Counterpoint

Our conductor got us full coverage, General.

AP, UP, Routers and the first string music critic from Le Monde.

You Special Service boys are giving this outfit the shaft.

General Patton gets Marlene Dietrich, Bradley gets Bob Hope,

we get culture in a bombed out Belgium opera house.

The 82nd Airborne has Scheduled a performance at the Royal Ballet.

- At least the ballet's got girls. - Don't worry, we've got girls.

All military personnel. Report to your units immediately.

Gentlemen, it seems we're involved in a mass exodus.

I trust it isn't entirely the result of your performance.

We've got to evacuate. German's have started a counter offensive.

Keep your places!

The enemy has cut off all roads to Baston. Head North to Huy.

Each of you is responsible for your instruments, music and yourselves.

Section leaders are responsible for their sections.

None will board the bus until all are ready.

For the first time, this orchestra will finish together.

- Lionel, hurry up! - Maestro!

Presto!

Come on, hurry up!

All right, Henry, get going!

If you're heading for Huy forget it. Could be a Berlin suburb by now.

You'd best go north to Stavelot. 3rd Army is in control there.

Thanks.

Hey USO, say hello to Betty Grable for me.

- Who's Betty Grable? - An American film-star.

Patrol 17.

Dorothy, put the Viola on the floor. Instruments aren't easy to replace.

But musicians are.

What is it?

Everyone stay where he is. I'll handle this.

Keep your high-school German to yourself and don't give me orders.

All right. I'm Lionel Evens, the conductor of this orchestra.

This man is our driver. We are all non-combatants.

- Non-combatants? - Yes.

And what are you? Spanish? Brazilian?

They're not Army. They're entertainers.

And you? What are you?

- Swedish? - Corporal. US Army. I'm a soldier.

Wrong.

You are nothing.

He was a prisoner, as you are.

You can't do this.

I have orders.

Every prisoner taken in this offensive shall be shot.

I don't care what your orders say. They don't apply to us.

- Do you read French? - No.

You better take a look at this!

We're not just a bunch of itinerate fiddlers,

we're a highly respected international symphony orchestra.

If you make the mistake of shooting us, you'll be a lieutenant forever.

I'll take you back to division headquarters and confirm the orders.

- Get back on the bus. - We should be allowed to go...

Enough! Get back on the bus.

The wheel must be changed. You two. Go and do it!

Hurry up!

Penguins.

Bravo.

Minor executive. I've dealt with that type all my life.

The thing they do best is pass the buck.

Panzer division.

Operating out of an authentic medieval castle.

That is where the buck stops.

Come Captain.

Send this message to Luetzdorf.

Without fuel, we'll be trapped here.

We're aware the Americans know of our whereabouts.

English, Captain, English.

I enjoy surprising Coronel Arndt occasionally.

There's only one pair of eyes.

But more than his usual accompaniment of ears.

Put it there.

Careful. It means a lot to me.

I've made our position obvious

so the Americans will suspect deception.

And anticipate a strike on their munitions dumps in Spa.

Therefore, we'll do the obvious and attack Namur.

But I need appropriate fuel from my reserve stores.

I'll send out three armored units at dusk.

We have to force the Americans to wasting their strength at Spa.

In Clausewitz's, "The Art of War", he warns against overuse of deception.

Captain Klingerman,

20th Century war cannot be solved by a 19th Century mind.

Clausewitz was never immobilized by the shortage of fuel for his tanks.

The Partisans have been executed.

At least Arndt has found an antidote to boredom.

Becker, quick. Take these men to the barracks.

Yes, sir. Come on. Let's go.

Stop.

A bus.

Lieutenant Heisse has captured a bus.

It probably will run out of fuel.

- Who are they? - An American symphony orchestra.

You took soldiers to the front to escort prisoners?

- I thought that as they're not... - You thought?

Keep to your orders!

Demand that we be released immediately. Tell him!

Do you understand?

With the others. Take him with the others. Quickly!

Hurry! Form a group with the others!

Are you sleeping?

More quickly.

All together!

It's not true, Alfred. This is a nightmare.

Prepare arms!

Load arms!

Stop this! Do you hear me! Stop this!

- Aim! - You can't do this!

Coronel Arndt!

Have you gone mad? Bring this man to me.

It's Lionel Evans!

Who is Lionel Evens?

Come with me. Hold on.

I want my people released immediately. You cannot do this.

- I want your commanding officer. - Silence!

I'm not a prisoner. I'm not a combatant.

- I remind you the Geneva Convention. - Coronel Arndt!

I should not like Mr. Evens shot before we've been introduced.

General Schiller, may I present Mr. Lionel Evans.

I am Captain Klingerman, a devoted admirer, Mr. Evans.

I possess a collection of your recordings I believe to be definitive.

I once had the privilege of attending one of your piano recitals. In Vienna.

Your only appearance there. You were superb.

- I was rotten. - No, you were superb.

I mean, technically.

But you were very young then, at the time.

General.

- My men are waiting. - Why don't you join them?

Fresh air! Essential to health.

Your body is a temple. Do not neglect it.

Heil Hitler.

Please forgive the intramural bickering of command.

- I wouldn't tolerate it - A refreshing attitude.

Please, come up. You may leave.

Especially from one in your position.

Please. Excuse me.

Yes.

Yes, yes. Go to Butzenback.

General Schiller...

They've all been told. No, to Butzenback.

Let us go.

- We have our orders. - We're no conceivable military threat.

Extra mouth to feed. Provision for shelter.

These things constitute a drain on our resources.

A small price for the lives of 70 uniquely skilled people.

Then your appeal is made for the privileged few.

Rather than in the name of humanity.

Not terribly American of you.

I'm trying to think German.

- You're not succeeding. - Then switch the appeal to threat.

- The execution of my musicians... - And their conductor.

...would be an act of atrocity. Not only a barbarian...

You Americans, so addicted to stereotypes.

It would be the act of an imbecile.

I am a soldier. And I have my orders.

It's nice, isn't it?

It traveled with me half way across North Africa and Western Europe.

Out of my favorite gear. Along with pictures of my favorite nieces.

Of course.

I'm an amateur.

Schadenfreude.

Only the German language could provide a word meaning

pleasure derived from someone else's pain.

May I remind you that the word sadism comes from the French.

- I'm trying to think American. - Excellent.

Then you'll be reasonable.

This division's offensive has been delayed by lack of fuel for tanks.

The boredom of inaction is the least supportable action of military life.

A performance, a concert for you and your orchestra

could serve to dispel that boredom.

No.

Mr. Evans, please.

You and I are men who have learned our skills.

There can be no reason not to practice one's skills.

You skills may be for sale to the first bidder, but

mine aren't.

Take an American stance. All men are created equally immortal.

Go to hell.

You're amusing.

That is part of the artist's cause. To amuse, to divert, dispel boredom.

But the artist like art, must also be functional.

Utilitarian. Don't you think?

Louis XVI, intrinsically priceless.

It's utilitarian value...

It can warm us.

I burn very slowly.

Colonel Arndt!

You will perform. You will play the concert.

I am not a whore.

- There are degrees of prostitution. - Like pregnancy.

Take the prisoners to the cellar and stand guard.

You'll need your musicians for the concert.

Captain Klingerman,

escort the prisoner.

Prostitution isn't the only profession ruined by amateurs.

Ladies and gentlemen, listen to me.

- Maestro, are they going to kill us? - No.

Don't lie to us. We're not children.

They're going to murder us all.

I made it perfectly clear to the general we are not soldiers.