The Ogre Page #3

from going to prison.

Show up at 8:
00 tomorrow morning

at Coupevoir barracks.

We are hoping that you will atone

for your doings through

some brave actions

on the battlefield.

All right.

In the name of the French Republic,

I dismiss the case.

The outcome of the war

will largely depend on the quality

of the communications system.

I mean to say,

the telegraph is a fine invention,

but wires are easy to cut.

That's what saboteurs are so good at.

Whereas our little birds,

our brave feathered soldiers

are way beyond the enemy's reach.

It's mid-day. What about lunch?

I do feel a bit hungry.

Certainly, Captain.

Lunch is being served!

Perfect military order.

A pigeon carrier of good breeding

easily covers 500 miles a day.

Lunch is served!

Nothing can stop them.

Neither wind

nor a thunderstorm...

But what about banks of fog?

Oh, you've got a point.

Major fog might be a nuisance.

Oh, with carrier pigeons,

you'll be informed

prior to anybody else.

Mm-hmm.

And in a most secret way.

Hmm.

I mean, any movement of the enemy

- shall be at least...

- Hey.

What is it?

Hande hoch.

France was trampled.

Paris was humiliated.

Der triumphum.

Ein blick Auf Den eifeltum.

But I wasn't upset.

My country hadn't given me

much opportunity

to act like a hero.

So I was quite happy

to be taken far away

from the great nation.

You managed to save them!

This is fantastic, Abel.

Captain.

Captain, look at this.

Do you know the use

we could make of them?

From wherever we are,

they'll fly back to France

carrying our messages.

What messages?

About the place

where we're going, Captain.

Poland, Eastern Prussia.

While the others plotted their escape,

I looked out at the open fields.

The land seemed to be waiting,

quietly, to embrace me.

All the men of this country

have been called up, right?

So, we have to figure out how

to take advantage of that. Eh?

You mean, um...

I mean...

That women are running

the farms and the factories.

Hah? German women

are just like other women.

They need men. Hah?

Us, in other words. Am I right?

- Am I right?

- No.

Los, los. Arbeit.

All right, all right!

Say, what's the matter with him?

I have no idea.

You know, I think

we're building an airstrip.

Really? Here? That close to Russia?

Hey, Abel.

Years have gone by

since Nestor told me of the blizzard

howling among the black pines,

Of the icy gulf she went over,

crossing a frozen lake.

Of the monotonous

shhp-shhp of snowshoes.

And also of a log cabin,

where the trapper

takes refuge at night

and lights a big fire.

Nestor had told me, "One day, Abel,

you'll see. One day. "

"Slowly, they passed great lakes

"called Reindeer,

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