Atlantic Wall (Le Mur de l’Atlantique)

So Mary makes delicious pineapple jam?

- Delicious. - But the sugar?

We drink our daily tea ration without sugar.

- And the pineapple? - Mary replaces it with pickles.

Stop. A German plane.

Quick.

Unfortunately the color is not the same.

And because pickles are so sour, much more sugar has to be added. Quite a hassle.

Why not call it pickle jam?

Because Mary and I prefer to eat pineapple jam.

Oh yes, come along.

Number two, from the field.

Are you here for Lieutenant Jeff Pitchum?

Escort the gentlemen.

Please follow me.

- That eye looks bad. War wound? - No, rugby.

- Does he play scrum? - No, referee.

And does Jeff have... Yes. Excuse me.

Hardings, keep that ball moving.

Keep going. Damn.

Make sure you cover number 12. Cover.

- What? - Visitors for you.

I’m coming.

- Good to see you, Jeff. - Cover.

Excuse us.

- Get in, Jeff. - Hurry up.

Watch out, children. Jeff, monsignor is waiting for us.

- Monsignor? - There you are. Leave us alone.

Come in.

Let me handle it.

- Satisfied? - Yes, I made three attempts.

And sent another referee to the hospital.

- That try was valid. Really. - Correct, it wasn’t a knock-on.

- The referee is your superior. - Not on the field.

You will apologize to him tonight.

Tonight I hope to bomb the Germans over Normandy.

Oh yes. Go say goodbye to your mother.

But behave yourself on the field this Saturday.

I’ll take care of the referee.

Thank you.

Promise? No matter what happens, you’ll be on the field Saturday?

This coming Saturday.

See you then, father.

Target in sight.

Maintain tight formation.

Target in sight. Maintain tight formation.

Attention.

Target in sight.

Sorry sir, there was nothing wrong with that try.

- Throw it in. - Okay, goal.

Is anyone there?

Poor Black-and-White. Did they leave you alone?

Is anyone there? Dad?

Aunt Maria?

Are you upstairs?

- Come here, Black-and-White. - Have you gone mad?

Turn off the light.

Come on, Maria. It’s Juliette.

- Dad and Maria, what are you doing there? - And you?

You’ve been away two weeks and come back right during an air raid alarm.

I was with Grandpa. He nags just like you. I’ll leave again.

Always bickering, those two. Give your father a kiss.

- If only they’d shoot one down. - Shame on you, Dad.

- Wonderful. - Dive.

Damn, what happened here?

- Are there any wounded? - No, but I’d like to keep eating.

Come out. Customers.

Come on, Dad.

The British got you, Léon.

That lamp was a wedding gift.

Your wife left 25 years ago. Stop complaining.

You always... What do you want?

The Germans were after us. But we have work to do.

- A tough job. - At this hour?

When collaborators sleep, the resistance acts.

- Is that about me? - Shut up.

The Germans. Maria, lights out. Get out. I don’t want trouble.

- Just wait, coward. - Collaborator.

It’s the resistance. Tell everyone.

- How was I supposed to know? - Good night, I’m going to sleep.

You can’t use the washroom. I stored something there.

I moved the wardrobe in front of it. Understand?

Finished.

- Maybe a piece of chimney fell? - Turn the light back on?

We have to kill him now.

- Come on, what’s done is done. - Is it very bloody?

- Damn, a German. - To the gendarmerie.

Wait, I’ll untie you.

Run.

Gédéon, there's a car in the shop.

- A car? - The display window.

Barbarians. There’s one upside down too.

- On our roof? - No, just in the street.

Armand and his German.

Steinbichler?

Nothing broken?

I’ve never seen anything like it.

- Why did you suddenly turn left? - Because of that calf.

- Which calf? - There was a calf in the street.

- Why were you driving so fast? - Because of that Englishman.

- Which Englishman? - I only saw a calf.

We are looking for an English pilot, a terrorist.

When they are drunk, they see cows and Englishmen everywhere.

Thank you. Now it's every man for himself again.

Take the car immediately to Mr. Armand's house.

Are you okay? Not too painful?

Put that car upright, I said.

Luckily, back home again.

What emotions. I’ll sleep like a log.

My head...

What a mess.

My head...

Armand, look...

Yes, a terrorist. Come along, you.

You to the left, you to the right.

Look for that man. And if you find him, don’t shoot.

This way, he went in here.

Search everything.

Search.

No one? Then keep searching.

A cat. We continue.

Gather at the monument.

- Thank you very much. - Black-and-white?

Black-and-white?

Are you finally coming in?

Are you hungry, rascal?

Come on. It’ll be a feast.

If Dad saw us...

I am English, not German. Look.

RAF. Do you understand? Plane, boom.

England, Churchill.

Hey, Black-and-white.

I don’t like sardines, I prefer cognac.

What a bunch of barbarians.

Don’t break anything. It’s already broken.

- Are you hiding an English terrorist? - No, I want nothing more to do with those people.

- Where is he? - You explain it.

- Englishman not here. - Search.

- Hey, my friend. - The calf?

They’re coming upstairs.

Black market? That’s forbidden.

- They’ll shoot you for a calf. - I nothing with that animal.

Or my son is now in heaven...

- Poor Jeff. - Or...

he’ll simply be on the field on Saturday.

- They are tense. - At the station...

- I was searched three times. - Well, I’m off.

- Boys, it’s dangerous. - I don’t care.

Found anything? He hasn’t just vanished into thin air, has he?

- This is already the fourth time. - Shut up.

An English pilot really doesn’t fit in here.

- Paris. - Dirty pig.

This is pig too. And forbidden.

- Our sausage. - Where is the calf?

- Yesterday it was roaming free. - Maybe at Léon’s?

Not now. Look, Armand and his Germans.

- My head. - Let's go have a drink at Léon’s.

Heavens, are you hurt?

Both, when they wanted to pick my four-leaf clover for you.

Pour them something.

- Where is Léon? - Busy with his affairs.

I’m going to play a trick. I know where Léon hides his things.

This will do you good.

German police. Open up.

Black marketeer that you are. Here is your friend Friedrich.

Did you eat all that?

Miss Juliette?

Are you back?

- Open up. - No.

- Why not? - I’m naked.

- Who is that? - A German friend of Dad’s.

A German?

- What is he doing? - I don’t know.

- Away. - Maybe a trap.

No, wait.

Careful.

All clear.

- I thought you were upstairs. - Quiet, Juliette is back.

She must have hardly slept, with everything that happened last night.

- Did you see my ceiling? - And their head?

- What’s wrong with you? - The Englishman...

The pilot was hiding in my house.

- You don’t mean it. - Just look.

He knocked Steinbichler and me out from behind.

- With a Hottentot club. - That can hurt.

It hurt. I have three stitches, he has twelve.

Twelve stitches?

Luckily, he has a hard head.

I haven’t seen such a blow since 1933. That was in Africa.

- To your health. - Cheers.

See you tonight, Léon.

There you are. Where is Charlus, your boss?

He was supposed to start at eight. This way my facade will never be finished. Where is he?

- In bed, with jaundice. - Fool someone else.

He looks like a Chinese man. In fact, he's yellower than this wallpaper.

Unbelievable, a painter with jaundice.

- Who will finish my facade? - And mine then?

A woman alone... Yes, easy.

It's been like this since last night. At the slightest thing he gets upset.

Angèle?