The Night of the Generals Page #5

he doesn't mean that.

What he means is...

What do you mean?

I mean, I don't want

to become an officer. That's all, sir.

I'm shattered.

My world is toppling.

What is the point of being

a general when corporals

prefer to be corporals?

He's still a bit shaky,

after the hospital.

Yes, apparently.

Now, your cousin suggested

that you join us here at headquarters,

but I should think you'd be anxious

to get back to the fighting.

No?

No, sir.

General, what he really means is...

Leave us, sergeant.

I, um...

I don't seem

to understand you, corporal.

I want to survive, sir.

I want to live through the war.

Well, naturally. We all do.

But we are soldiers, we must fight.

Yes, sir. And I have.

And you don't want to go back.

Is this the "reincarnation

of Siegfried"?

I'm sorry, sir,

but I have a horror of death.

Even in a good cause?

Let me see now...

According to your papers,

in civilian life you were

a student at Dresden?

Music conservatory,

yes, sir. I studied piano.

Music, piano, yes. Yes.

Yes. I think I have

an assignment for you.

But one which requires great courage.

Only a man who has killed...

How many was it? Let me see.

Yes, 40 Russians single-handed,

would be equal to the task.

Now, what about Chopin,

wasn't he Polish?

Didn't he write the Polonaises?

Can you play them?

Yes, madam.

You don't sound

very enthusiastic.

Well, madam,

they were patriotic pieces,

celebrating the glory

of Poland.

Well, the glory of Poland

isn't precisely what

we're here to celebrate.

No, madam. So I thought

that perhaps we might play...

Wagner.

I remember the Fuhrer saying to me

after a performance of Parsifal,

"There's no such thing

as too much Wagner."

After Parsifal?

I must say, it's unusual

to find a fighting man

who also knows about music.

Thank you, madam.

Oh, no, don't thank me,

wait until I've thanked you.

And I won't until

after the soiree.

I dislike being a bore, major.

You never bore me, Engel.

But I can't help wondering

what you're trying to prove.

Just what do you think you're doing?

My job.

But if you say anything to

any of them, he'll know...

The murderer will know

that you're after him.

That's the point of the exercise.

Good evening, sergeant.

Sir.

But look, sir, why do you care

who killed that b*tch?

She's better off dead anyway.

Have you ever heard

of the Eumenides?

The what?

Greek mythology.

A number of disagreeable ladies,

sometimes known as the Furies.

They believe that spilled blood

calls out for vengeance.

That's how justice began.

Well, we don't want it to end,

do we, just because there's a war on?

Wait for me here.

I'm afraid I won't be long.

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