Fragments of Antonin (Les fragments d'Antonin)

"Will I be able to say one day how many men I've killed?

"For I have killed,

"I, Antonin Verset, schoolmaster.

"I who refused to go hunting with my cousins.

"How many of these men will I be able to remember?

"How long does it take to make a man?

"How long does it take to destroy him?"

FRAGMENTS OF ANTONIN

It's perfect.

Simon.

He avoids your gaze.

He's ashamed of something.

When he was found, wandering along the tracks,

3 months after the war ended,

Antonin Verset could not say who he was

or hold anyone's gaze.

Only first names, five in all, made up his language.

Repeated tirelessly dozens of times a day.

Were they his loved ones?

Members of his family?

None of these names corresponds to his life in peacetime.

But Antonin Verset does not have amnesia.

His memories are very clear.

He experiences them as a physical reality.

He makes involuntary gestures,

bringing up images of the past.

The most troubling, in Antonin's case,

is that when he disappeared,

he was far from the fighting and trauma.

He was responsible for carrier pigeons.

Even now,

after 4 months of observation and work,

looking someone in the eye seems beyond him.

What did he see?

What did he do?

Like all the men I treat at this hospital,

he experienced the chaos of the world.

Rarely has wartime penetrated peacetime so deeply.

Rarely have the dead weighed down the living.

Never has warfare caused such terrible injuries.

Never has medicine known such challenges.

Say, Labrousse...

I wanted to say...

Your patients, or rather, the men you're treating,

it's best they don't go into the garden.

They're not contagious.

No, but it scares the convalescents and families.

- There are these fakers. - The war is over.

Why would they fake it?

For the war pension.

You want them granted disabled war veteran status?

An amputated arm, a disfigured face, is worth money,

but honestly, nightmares...

How many suicides and desertions during the war?

Very few.

Incredible resistance.

We owe victory to them.

On the battlefields and elsewhere,

you master fear, put on a brave face.

It all comes out afterwards.

How many men cannot speak?

How many shake uncontrollably?

How many cannot move?

Their injuries do not bleed.

They are not worn like medals.

Often, they are ashamed.

"I loved that day of summer 1914.

"The fervour, the communion.

"I loved being patriotic.

"I loved that moment when war is still just a sentiment.

"Something unreal."

Fredo.

Here.

I haven't seen you in quite a while.

There you go.

There, my little pigeon.

OK... OK. Everything's fine.

Everything's fine.

We'll go see her.

I've got good news!

Look.

He came back just for you.

MARCHING ORDERS

Camp Rancourt to Camp Fremont - Immediate departure

Can you fill these? I have to leave.

The water's rationed.

- The pigeons are parched. - Casualties first.

Have you seen Madeleine?

You mean the Hun?

Goodbye.

I have to go.

Now?

They need a carrier near Arras.

Your perfume, what is it?

It's violet, from the Black Forest.

It's what my mother wore.

I also wanted to give you my notebook.

I'd like you to read it.

Colonel wants you. Casualties.

Triage.

Your pigeons are needed for messages.

Shrapnel in the thighs and kidneys.

Picked up when?

At dawn. Like the others, colonel.

I'll take him.

Hit in the abdomen.

Four, at least.

Forget him.

Savelli, Pierre-Ange, 173rd Infantry Regiment.

He was holding a letter from his wife.

- So? - She's just given birth.

To save him, I need 4 hours.

To save him and him, an hour for each.

And him, 2 hours. Can you count?

I save 3 instead of 1.

Clear the end, there.

Open shoulder fracture.

The bleeding has stopped.

I'll take him.

Blown-off right leg.

No other injuries.

No.

Or rather, yes.

We'll cauterize it. It'll win us some time.

He has a perforated lung.

No.

Berjac, Guy, 129th.

Perforated internal carotid artery.

Forget him.

Several bayonet wounds.

How come he's still alive?

He's an officer.

No. He's a dying man.

Ferrou, Émile, 113th Infantry Regiment.

Lieutenant.

Jaw and tongue blown off.

Lieutenant.

Verset?

Antonin...

Help... Help me.

Help me.

Hey, pigeon handler, give us a hand!

I'll come back.

I'll stay with you.

Spot 802?

I'm still here, sir, yes.

Yes.

Don't forget, sir, that spot 802 is particularly dangerous

and we've already lost a lot of men there.

Of course.

Yes, sir.

We'll be there.

"129th Infantry Regiment.

"Ferrou, Émile."

"18th Infantry Regiment.

"Cayeux, François.

"Réboulais, Émile.

"Haporaux, Albert.

"Chenal, Tanguy.

"Verbier, Albert."

Am I going to die?

Yes.

I've noticed it for months:

the shaking, the blindness,

the patients' spasms have no organic cause.

The wounds, the cries were silent.

Internal shock hid in their bodies.

Their intact limbs twisted

as if under the effect of a tension of an incredible force

"118th Infantry Regiment."

How can I tear them from the past?

How can I free them from their suffering?

"Bérinet, Ignace."

Memories of hell.

"Berthou, Octave."

The hell of memories.

"Torrel, Albert.

"Garrot, Ferdinand.

"Vial, Fabien.

"Ribeiro, Roger.

"Richard Mondaret.

"Feuillère, Émile."

Not so fast.

I thought you were leaving.

"Feuillère, Émile."

I still have to find water for them.

"Vieuchot, Maxime.

"Ferrou, Émile."

Can you help me?

It won't take so long.

He's been waiting for weeks.

He'll see her again.

They were raised together.

He grew so fond of her that all he's interested in...

is seeing her again.

It keeps birds of prey away.

Right.

Open your hands...

There you go.

In 3 hours, he'll be in Paris.