The Grand Illusion Page #6

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- Honestly!

Lieutenant Demolder,

three attempts...

Gentlemen,

I respect your patriotism

and courage.

But here the situation

is completely different.

No one can escape from this fortress.

You understand me, don't you?

So there can be no accusations

of German barbarism,

I decided to apply

French regulations.

Read it.

It makes good night-time reading.

And now, gentlemen,

if you will follow me...

Oswald, my coat!

My men are not young,

but they enjoy playing soldiers.

We have 25 like that.

I suppose you know

the Maxim's gun?

Very well, Sir.

I prefer the restaurant.

Is that a dig at me?

Twelfth century.

Excuse me, Sir, but...

was this villa built specially

for Captain de Boeldieu and myself?

Sorry?

Are we your only guests?

No.

Your comrades are behind there.

Thirteenth...

A drop of 120 feet.

Very kind of you

to show us round your place.

A very handsome castle...

So old...

And so cheerful...

So sorry I can't give you

a room to yourself.

Thank you, but I would not have

accepted in any case.

I trust the walk did not tire you.

Not at all, Sir, we're fine.

- Fourteenth...

- It's pure Gothic.

Excuse me. We have to search you.

Your friend Lieutenant Rosenthal

from Heilbard Camp is here.

- Good old Rosenthal!

- We've the same bad luck!

You are to share the same room.

That way you will have better food.

That's nice. Really nice.

A mere formality.

I'll tell the Commander anyway.

Look at that!

- In my case, it was a brunette.

- Who can you trust?

A friend of my mother's.

She did a lot for charity.

Bad luck, it's not a very common

disease in high society.

Eh, Boeldieu?

Yes...

but it's a vanishing privilege.

Like so much else,

it's become popularized.

Cancer and gout are not

working-class diseases, but...

they will be, believe me.

How about intellectuals?

In our case, it's tuberculosis.

Here's Mr Pindar!

And the middle-class?

Liver ulcers... they eat too much.

We'd each die

of our own class ailment,

if war didn't make all germs equal.

Your dictionaries are in my way.

Forgive me,

but Pindar has always been

so badly translated...

A sad oversight.

I am broken-hearted.

Not that I care

but who is Pindar?

Joke away! But he means more to me

than your life,

the war, or my own life!

Pindar is the greatest Greek poet.

The greatest Greek poet?

Well, I'm blowed...

There! My map's

as near as dammit complete.

See... this is where we are.

To enter Switzerland

above Lake Constance

and bypass the Rhine,

we'll have to cover...

- 200 miles.

- No kidding?

Reckon 15 nights forced march,

on 6 lumps of sugar

and 2 biscuits a day.

You're as crazy as he is

with his Pindar!

To get out of this place...

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