Lines of Wellington

PAULO BRANCO:

presents

An Alfama Films France

After the failed attempts of Junot

and Soult in 1807 and 1809,

Napoleon Bonaparte sent a mighty

army led by Marechal Massena,

to invade Portugal in 1810.

The French had no difficulty

reaching the centre of the country

where the Anglo-Portuguese army, led

by General Wellington, awaited them.

For RAL RUIZ

who prepared this film

Director

Original Screenplay and Dialogues

Director of Photography

Art Director

Production Manager

Original Music

LINES OF WELLINGTON

Leave that crap alone, you imbecile!

It's covered in blood!

On the slopes of Buaco,

despite the many natural obstacles

that favoured the defence of Alcoba,

our valiant men of the Second battalion

battled to the summit,

after one hour

of extraordinary efforts.

They arrived, breathless,

at the ridge of the mountain,

only to be met by the full force

of the English artillery.

Marechal Massena

made a terrible mistake,

sending the Second battalion into action

before the Sixth were ready to intervene.

Our men greeted the French

with a musket volley at fifteen paces.

Five hundred Jacobins

stopped dead in their tracks.

General Wellington

advanced heavy reinforcements,

forcing the French to fall back...

We chased them down the slopes

with our musket fire,

which they could ill return,

and scythed them down

like ripened wheat...

If I had my way, they wouldn't

even bury their whoring mothers.

Don't be so harsh, Chico!

They're Christians after all...

Christians, my foot!

They're all Jews, Z.

Sergeant?

They can't all be.

Those who're not,

are freemasons or the like.

Bunch of Jacobins!

If they want a decent burial,

they should've stayed

in their own damned country!

Right, lads!

Come on!

Let's get back to the English

encampment, we've earned it.

The Jacobins lost

above five thousand men.

A general

and two hundred and fifty officers

among the dead,

wounded or captured.

Come on!

Halt, halt!

D. Pedro!

Lieutenant, Sir!

It's no use, Sergeant.

He can't hear you.

- What's wrong with him?

- Two musket balls to the head.

He's more dead than alive,

we should have left him.

- Are you a doctor?

- No, Sergeant.

Then hold your tongue.

What's your name?

Eusbio, Sergeant.

Noted, Eusbio.

I never forget a name.

If he dies before he sees the doctor,

I'll cut your throat. Off you go!

- Who was that?

- Lieutenant Alencar.

Well?

He's not yet twenty...

Sergeant!

Damn, Sergeant, you!

I saw it.

You shot him, didn't you?

The French General!

It was you, I saw it you rogue!

I couldn't swear it was me, Major.

I had him in my sights.

And took the shot.

You didn't kill him though, you ninny.

We took him alive.

A bit buggered, but alive.

Want to see him?

I'd better not,

if you'll pardon me, sir.

The devil might tempt me

to finish him off...

You can't forgive them, eh?

Not in this world, or the next.

Tell me, Chico,

have you seen Corporal Percy about?

No, nor will I, Major.

He fell at my side.

He's still down there.

Careful what you say.

His wife's waiting for him.

They've not been married a year...

Damned Jacobins!

Tell her. Go on.

Me, Major?

Yes, you.

You saw him last, didn't you?

Well? Tell her.

Poor girl has a right to know

what happened.

- In what language, sir?

- You choose.

She'll understand, don't worry.

Go!

That's an order, Sergeant.

Percy?

Come. Come with me.

I'm... I'm a friend!

Friend of Percy.

Corporal Percy, today...

Corporal Percy!

To see, him.

It's not a good idea.

He not pretty.

To see...

not good...

Yes.

But not today.

Tomorrow.

I'll take you.

Yes?

Tomorrow...

Yes. Tomorrow.

I'm Francisco Xavier. Chico.

I'll see you tomorrow.

Who's that?

Martrio! Leave me be...

Go on, shoo.

What're you doing here?

The Major sent me...

There's a girl asleep next door.

Don't make a noise, go away.

Stop it, you'll wake the girl.

I won't wake anyone

if you'd shut up, you dolt.

All right.

Quietly, quietly.

Come here.

Quietly.

Oh damn!

What is it?

I left my purse in my cloak.

Don't worry, the Major paid.

Thank you.

I had to explain to that fool Z Maria

why we had to retreat although we'd won.

It was hard to grasp that the

bastard French, even in defeat,

far outnumbered the English and us.

We could only beat them again

on favourable ground,

like in Buaco...

That's what I think

our General Wellington will do

farther to the south where I come from,

where it's more hilly...

Meanwhile, I can't stop thinking

about Corporal Percy's death

and his poor wife, Maureen,

alone without solace

in a foreign land

where she doesn't speak the language.

Fewer dead! More heroes!

As if today's dead

weren't tomorrow's heroes.

Our troops reached Coimbra

on October 1st.

The wretched inhabitants

of that great and beautiful city

of one hundred

and twenty thousand souls

were told of the enemy's

imminent arrival,

and ordered to abandon their homes.

It's path blocked

by the sheer volume of refugees,

Wellington's army fell back in disarray

on the road to Pombal.

Get these flea traps out of here!

Come on, hurry up!

To our amazement, rather than seizing

the advantage to rout the enemy,

General Massena decided

to stay in Coimbra

to "regroup"and "treat the wounded"...

What's going on?

Where are we?

In Hades, my friend...

The French. They're here.

The French?! Already?

They'll garrote us all.

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