Slow down!
You lack control, no style.
You're better at raking than skidding!
Hey, postman! I'll drop you off at the next letterbox.
And my bike?
Leave it to me. I fought in the war! I don't have a desk job.
It's not my fault. I'm asthmatic!
An asthmatic who rides a bike!
- By the sea. - Sure, by the sea!
Celestin, it's not a sidecar.
Those men, they never grow up.
As long as they don't play soldiers.
"Tell old Bernay... Settle up by March. His manure's too costly..."
He wouldn't write such trivialities. Don't you agree?
There must be a code.
Except lovers' codes can't be cracked with brains or divine intervention.
And Bastoche?
If he was seen with his German boots, he must have survived.
Not so, miss.
Gordes didn't let him go over the top with those boots.
If the Jerries see these, they'll know you've stripped one of their dead.
So Tina Lombardi's on the wrong track.
The one with the boots...
...wasn't Bastoche.
It was Gordes. That's right, miss.
He was with a boy from the class of ' 17, Desrochelles.
I'd met some stretcher-bearers who'd just passed them.
Are you from Bingo?
Might be.
Tell them Gordes is wounded. He's with a boy who's worse off.
Desrochelles.
- They're off to first aid. - With German boots!
Long live anarchy!
Anarchy.
What's happened, Matti?
What did I say?
Open up!
Be reasonable.
- What did you do? - Nothing.
You've known he's dead for three years.
I call that stubbornness.
No, I call that hope.
Poux has just killed it.
If I can do anything...
You can.
Take me to Bingo Crepuscule.
An Indian princess on her elephant.
With her hunters, on the trail of sorrow.
It was there.
Right there.
At a hundred yards, facing Bingo, was Erlangen, the Jerry trench.
Where's the burnt tree trunk?
All the stumps and debris...
...were used to fill in the trenches.
We found the five over there, under a tarpaulin...
...covered with earth.
- Not a pretty sight. - No doubt.
The youngest was only a boy.
Was he wearing a glove?
A red woolen glove?
They all had one bandaged hand, but nothing on the other.
I can't remember seeing a glove.
Athos!
I don't like him digging like that.
Around here, you never know what junk you might come across...
...that can blow off an arm or a leg.
It's the crypt.
There was a chapel between the two trenches.
It was in ruins.
Incredible. I don't recognize a thing.
Could Manech have lost the glove as he fell?
It was tightly knitted and tightly fitted.
I used the other one in the kitchens until the end of the war.
Maybe he took it off to carve?
I couldn't say.
But I don't think so.
What sort of red was it? Bright red?
A flashy red.
With white dots.
Looked like maggots on an apple.
Sorry to disturb you like this.
My husband's family suffered greatly in the war.
I didn't want to go over to a French soldier's table in front of him.
What can you tell me?
Before dying, my brother Gunther...
...saw your fiance carve those three letters on a tree.
He was wearing a red, spotted glove.
A comrade of Gunther's told me the story.
When our plane shot down your fiance, they were sick to the stomach.
After that...
...it was a nightmare.
God spared that French soldier twice.
Then your side attacked.
They killed my brother.
He was 23 years old.
I came to see his cross at the cemetery.
I'm sorry.
Time heals all. You'll see.
I'll get back, he'll be getting worried.
Seems I haven't killed it.
Pardon?
Hope.
What now?
Tina Lombardi. She's going to the guillotine.
They call her the Officer Killer.
She's killed Lavrouye and Thouvenel.
And planned to kill Marechal Petain.
When I think you sat in a wheelchair to soften me up...
I'll talk only to you...
...because I know we're very similar.
We'll leave them alone.
What I did, you could've done too.
I don't think so.
I'd be too scared.
I'm not scared.
And I regret nothing.
Except my hair.
I'll be treated to a bowl cut before the execution.
I'll look like Joan of Arc when I see my Angel.
Why did you want to kill Petain?
Throwing mutilated soldiers over the top was his idea.
Why not Poincare?
He refused them a pardon.
You don't know?
He did pardon them. All five.
It's just a leave.
Lavrouye kept the paper for himself.
Why did that dog Lavrouye do that?
Because dirty dogs play dirty. That's all.
Trust me on this. I took care of him.
You and I have been running the same investigation.
Each in our own way.
Looking for survivors from Bingo...
...I picked up a male nurse who'd treated Angel and the others.
This guy, Phillipot, was sure he'd seen one of them.
A big man, with a head wound.
He was a big man. Head wound, German boots.
He wore German boots and was carrying a thin-built soldier.
I think that's about right. I'm even sure of it.
A big man, head wound...
His superior told him to keep his mouth shut.
You can imagine how overwhelmed with hope I was.
And then I met the man who shattered my dreams.
Chief Sergeant Favart.
He told me how that pig Thouvenel had shot my Angel, just like that.
Like taking a leak.
I took care of him too.
It was an obsession.
Kill all those who hurt my man.
Your Angel left you this.
"Vengeance is pointless. Try to be happy and don't ruin your life for me.
Your Angel from hell."
Departure for Paris, platform two.
Gordes, the one who switched boots with Bastoche, was he big?
Biscuit? He was no athlete. Just a guy like you or me.
And you have no news of Desrochelles?
He didn't make friends easily. He lived alone with his mother.
I must go. I'm boarding in an hour for Venezuela.
Good luck, Celestin.
To you too.
When I think you hid Poincare's pardon...
I didn't want to throw salt on the wound.
I'd like one last favor.
I suppose it concerns Bingo-thingy?
Son of bookseller Desrochelles, Paul, born in Sarreguemines...
...died in February, 1897.
That's it. Desrochelles, Jean!
What?
In Saintes.
In the Charentes.
Tell me, Mr. Pire. Tina Lombardi, you had an inkling of what she was up to.
Luckily, your paths didn't cross.
He who pries flies when danger lurks?
He who pries, pries, but from a distance.
I've a new lead for you.
Jean Desrochelles. Evacuated from the front on the 7th of January ' 17.
His only next of kin was his mother, the widow Desrochelles.
She lives at 22, rue de I'Abbaye. Saintes, in the Charentes.
All the work's been done.
You've tried to reach me?
My brother's comrade, the one I told you about.
He remembered something that might interest you.
The two French soldiers escorting him that morning...
...wanted to go back through no man's land.
They saw the prisoners' bodies.
One was in a kind of small cellar.
The French soldiers seemed surprised.
I don't know if that can help you.
Thank you.
"Tell old Bernay I want to settle up by March.
His manure's too costly, watch out for him."
"His manure's too costly..."
There must be a code.
Your Mr. Pry called.
He's run into a dead end in Saintes.
I know.
Hello! Go ahead.
Yes, miss. I remember you.
Old Bernay? No, never heard of him.
Benoit Notre-Dame used the manure from his animals. He never bought it.
Thank you, Father.
I must decode this letter.
I feel we're getting warm.
"Will be... Bernay... March...
Sell... Everything...
Say... Nothing...
Listen... No one...
Benoit."
Excuse me, the End of the World farm?
The last house at the end of the road.
And if he doesn't come?
He'll come, don't worry. Come back in two hours.
Hello, Mathilde.
It's dangerous to want to bring back the dead.
When I saw your ad in the paper...
...I knew, in time, the gendarmes would come.
Don't worry.
I had the chance to do away with you. I let it go.
We knew you were a thief. But a pyromaniac?
I couldn't kill you.
Now, even the rabbits and chickens, my wife has to do it.
The war's taken it out of me.
You know what I want to hear.
Is he alive?
The last time I saw him, he wasn't doing well.
But he's stronger than he looks.
Don't stay together.
When things calmed down, I tried to get some sleep.
- Gaignard? - You think we're at the whorehouse?
- Bouquet! - What now?
Notre-Dame!
Then the pimp tried to surrender.
And the welder from Paris was killed.
Your fiance started carving on the tree.
Then the Jerries' Albatross arrived.
I came to when the ground started shaking.
I don't know what happened.
I just saw that trapdoor the shell had half-opened.
For France!
Charge!
They entered no man's land.
At the second German line, the machine guns got them.
A few hours later, a voice woke me.
My God! Bastoche is dead! We can't leave him here.
We'll come back. He's not going anywhere.
Bastoche is dead.
Look, this one's still moving.
It's the Cornflower. He's a goner as well.
A shell had ripped the door off.
One of the guys arrived, in bad shape.
Bastoche is dead...
We're all going to die.
I recognized Bastoche's friend, the one who'd taken his German boots.
After eating, I smoked his tobacco.
Then I heard more voices.
Let's go look over there.
Look here.
Damn it!
It's not the Cornflower.
What's he doing in there?
Where's the Dordogne farmer?
- I'm cold. - Don't worry.
He was really messed up...
...but your fiance wanted to live.
I saw it in his eyes.
I put him on my shoulders and set off through the trench.
He was burning with fever.
I felt the heat on my back.
And he was delirious.
Spoke of a heart beating in his hand.
Hey, corporal!
Only 500 yards to the hospital.
Want us to put your friend on the stretcher?
No, thanks.
If you see any officers from Bingo...
...tell them Corporal Gordes has gone to the hospital with Desrochelles.
Have it your way!
I arrived just before the explosion.
Headquarters had the good idea of setting up hospital...
...in a hangar containing a hydrogen-packed zeppelin.
The Cornflower has just been evacuated.
Will he make it?
His hip wound isn't too bad. But he has a severe case of pneumonia.
You're both registered according to your tag numbers.
I don't want to know anything else. But good luck anyway.
Block the pulley!
Please!
After that, I walked to Bernay.
I had no idea if my wife had received my letter...
...so each day I waited for her at the bus stop.
With the money from the sale, we bought a farm here.
The most isolated one we could find. They call it the End of the World.
That's it.
Goodbye.
How strange.
You shot a hole right through your life line.
Of course.
I died.
At Bingo Crepuscule, like your fiance.
If ever you find Jean Desrochelles alive somewhere, let me know.
You know where to find me.
Make yourself at home! At Christmas, come down the chimney!
For Miss Mathilde.
I'll give it to her later.
If I were you, I would wake her up.
What is it?
"He's alive.
Stay where you are, Mathilde. Just stay where you are.
I'm on my way. Germain Pire."
How silly I am!
Peerless on the prowl, faster than a whippet!
He's well and truly alive, but he's lost his memory.
Total amnesia. He even had to learn to read and write again.
The psychiatrists treating him since ' 17 aren't hopeful.
But who knows.
There are as many amnesias as amnesiacs.
Where is he?
In Milly-la-Foret.
Orphaned for the second time. He's just lost his adopted mother.
Pierre-Marie, do you know Mr. Pire?
By reputation.
An honor.
Mathilde, I'll believe it when I see it.
"With my own eyes!"
When Jean Desrochelles was born...
...his mother was 40 and had no other children.
When the gendarmes took him...
To replenish the troops in Ardennes.
She became depressed.
One day, a comrade of her son visited her.
Chardolot. Chardolot.
Unfortunately, it was Jean.
A shell had got him. He'd already been dead for a few hours.
I should also tell you...
...the youngest prisoner may have taken Jean's identity...
...exchanging tag numbers.
She went off her rocker the day the hospital rang her...
...asking her to come to her son's bedside.
He's sleeping. I'll leave you.
Who are you?
Your mother, my darling.
I'm your mother.
I ran my own little investigation.
Mrs. Desrochelles died two months ago.
Run over by a truck after a fight with a shopkeeper.
And I'm not guessing!
It's in the report.
We already knew that.
Don't get upset.
Mrs. Desrochelles didn't suffer, she died straightaway.
It's not that.
I feel so guilty.
I didn't believe you, my dear Mathilde.
I should have known.
I'm so sorry.
In what she would refer to as her Milly Expedition...
...the sun, the sky and nature are with her.
As a true lady, she made every effort to look her best.
Dressed in white for freshness...
...lipstick for the occasion, eyebrows shaped.
But none of that black which lengthens the eyelashes.
She knows that tears can make a mess of it.
He knows about your visit.
We said a young girl he'd dearly loved was coming here.
He asked your name and found it very beautiful.
He's in the garden. He's waiting for you.
Does it hurt when you walk?
Want to see what I'm doing?
I'll show you later, when it's finished.
But why are you crying?
Mathilde leans back against her chair...
...folds her hands in her lap and looks at him.
In the sweetness of the air, in the light of the garden...
...Mathilde looks at him.
She looks at him...
[ENGLISH]