Taxi for Tobruk (Un Taxi pour Tobrouk)

CHRISTMAS 1941

Midnight.

In his castle of Stargard, Pomerania,

Captain von Stegel of the 15th armoured division,

is about to leave once again his mother, wife and son.

It's his third war Christmas. What is his destination?

He doesn't know it yet.

At the same time in London,

a British family introduces the Christmas pudding

to corporal Théo Dumas, from the 1st Free French Division.

Corporal Théo Dumas is distracted.

He thinks about his bistro in Montmartre,

with his European champion's gloves hanged behind the bar.

In Ablis, west of Paris.

A grandmother says goodbye to her grandson.

He's off to England.

Franlkois Gensac isn't a warrior.

He's 30 and he's always gotten bored.

He's hoping for a change.

A small boat is taking eight men out of France.

They have different reasons for leaving occupied France.

This medical extern got only one but it's good enough:

His name is Samuel Goldmann.

At Bayonne's prison, people are thinking.

There's a lot of thinking going on in prison on Christmas Eve.

This man is mostly thinking about his escape,

or else he'll be executed in two days.

TAXI FOR TOBRUK

10 months later, in Libya,

inside Tobruk

occupied by Rommel's troops.

What the fuck are they doing?

Come on, let's go.

Everybody down!

Come on, quickly!

It's as if the lieutenant knew he wouldn't make it.

Was he bashed up a lot?

You know what funeral oration he wanted:

Muscatel in Pleurnel, but we're not there yet.

I know, I strayed from the road,

but I got us out of the mess, though.

And I guarantee we'll be in El Alamein tonight!

If you keep going, corporal, and if my notes are right...

we're not heading to El Alamein.

And he's got stripes on his jacket!

Do you want them?

How far did we stray?

We're actually rushing to the South Pole.

Come on, slow down with that!

We just have to change direction.

We've got petrol, water and meat.

We're 700 km from our lines and we can do 1000.

Yes, if we forget planes, tanks, land mines and other trifles!

If a superior invites you for a ride, my friend, just enjoy it

or you'll end up under arrest.

And don't look surprised if you ever get your ass kicked.

Hey...

Is that thing over there on the map?

No, it's not.

Morons.

And what about that one?

It's maybe a friend.

- Don't touch that. - You bet!

Don't touch that, God dammit!

If it's a Kraut, let him think we're Krauts too.

They've got British cars too. Cool it, take it easy!

- We've got a brain with us! - That's for sure.

Don't screw it.

- Messersmith 109. - It doesn't turn left

and apparently has messy machine-guns.

I got him! - I got my Kraut, guys!

Jesus, everybody out!

The radio and water!

The Kraut won't make it to Tobruk.

I'd rather not answer to you.

Dumb people like you should wear a sign.

You'd deserve the council of war.

- I hear people. - Try to catch the base.

And you, get our position.

In three hours, a plane could be here,

if Mr. Idiot doesn't shoot him.

We can copy but not transmit.

The oscillator's burnt and we don't have a spare.

- How's that? - We didn't bring one.

Christ! What's wrong with you?

So we're gonna croak because you didn't bring a spare one?

That's a bit rich! That really is!

- What's wrong with your leg? - It's nothing, just a burn.

It looks bad.

Put your hanky on it to keep it away from the flies.

You know, flies...

Now or later...

You're not trying any more?

You don't give a shit, do you?

- What were you saying? - We were talking about flies.

What?

Do you know how it is to die of thirst, general?

I studied it, it's really neat.

First, your tongue will swell.

Swallowing will become painful.

Then will come hearing troubles and vision troubles.

It's the standard progression.

Spasms will come later, just before agony.

That's when flies attack.

How about changing the subject?

Why? It's appropriate and I'm a doctor.

That's funny.

I often thought about death. Mine, of course.

I used to picture it around 70,

with an add in the medical magazine.

Doctor Samuel Goldmann died of a heart failure.

And I'm gonna die here of thirst, like a geranium.

Is that it? Get up!

If you forgot something, you'll tell us on the way.

Don't you think it's the end of the road?

We've got no car and no water.

- We'll make it. - How?

Walking!

Your feet will be big like this!

Feet, tongue, spasms... Spare us!

- You'll see! - If I can't walk, I'll crawl!

I'll get through those 700 km!

- Will you? - I will!

And even if I don't, we can only find help by walking!

Then walk, but without me!

We'll both give up, you'll see. We're all gonna give up.

Go ahead: give up!

I heard that so many times: "Give up, Dudu."

And the other guy always lost.

- Boxing is not the same. - It is!

We've got two options: croak here or walk.

- I'm walking, so will you! - No.

Sorry, corporal, I wasn't a hussar for 11 months

-to end up a foot soldier. - Meaning?

Just this:

I accept to die but with the least effort possible.

I'm gonna stay here,

smoke my last cigarettes and wait.

I'll let you crawl on the sand, your tongue panting.

The flies will find me seated.

Come on, my brave men!

I'd rather die for the desert's fertilization.

"Tomorrow on the tombs, the wheat will look better,"

like the poet said.

Gensac was a name and now it's gonna be a brand,

a fertilizer brand.

Colonialism is changing.

And they call that a commando! The orators commando!

Let's go, they're pissing me off.

- Dudu! - Shit!

Dudu!

Doctor, I think the Neanderthal man is screwing us.

A walking brute goes further than two seated highbrows.

Dudu...

Are we stopping because of me?

Him?

It's not because of someone.

Théo...

I can't any more.

Do as I do: think about something else.

Do you think those tracks lead somewhere?

Yes.

That's the only thing we should think of.

I've got hearing troubles: I hear music.

Me too.

Don't you?

I've got lazy ears.

But if you both hear music, that means there is!

Leave that!

Guys, that's the last metro.

We either go back with it or we don't go back at all.

- Which one do you pick? - The one facing us.

I'm taking the one that...

- And you? - I don't care.

- The one on the right. - Fine with me.

- You take the one in the middle. - Yes.

Don't screw it up, guys, there will be no second sitting.

- Ready? - Ready.

No!

Hurry up, scumbag!

They'd piss less if they weren't drinking so much.

Wait, I lost mine.

Now, for Christ's sake!

There's one more, guys!

You'd better hurry up!

Come on, cool it!

-"Hauptmann" means "captain"? - Ja.

Ludwig von Stegel, 1912...

Hey guys...

He's terrific!

Do you think they'll let me take him home?

You hurt?

He wanted to play with his radio.

It was to be expected.

Ask him who he was speaking with.

Don't mind us, Her Hauptmann.

Are we bothering you?

Because La Haye's agreements are protecting you...

Ask him if he has friends around.

I had those ones.