Soft Beds, Hard Battles (Undercovers Hero)

My fellow Americans, let me make one thing perfectly clear.

I am not too familiar with the works of Voltaire.

I am all too familiar with the workings of Europe. It's history as I see,

is a tape, no true American would wish to erase or tamper with.

We are anxious only it's truths...

to learn it's lessons... And let me say this...

Before on way of the New World commit ourselves for the Europe support...

We must with unavoidable honest...

ask ourselves: why it takes war ...

rather then peace,

to restore the greatness...

and renew the vigour of the Old World...

Must you go?

I have to, my little one, I have to.

Have you put your undervest on?

Yes.

And your pills? You have them?

Yes, yes...

When you will be back?

It's terrible, this war.

For everyone.

- Will you miss me, Michèlle, my little one, eh? - Oh, stupid, you know, I always miss you. - Eh...

- You come back, ah? - Eh. - Quickly.

This morning's communication from Allied Quarters states that the French Army is maintaining it's ferocious offensive against the enemy by retiring to prepared positions in front of Paris.

In the north, the victorious advance of the British continues back to Dunkirk.

An army spokesman points out that a Supreme Commander is now in a position to throw in his reserves.

Ah! Back to the front line, eh, général?

If there still is one, yes.

Thank you, thank you.

- My dear General, I hope everything was to your satisfaction. - The young lady's devotion to duty, madam, did credit as always to the grand traditions of your house.

Not duty, General.

You stand very high with all my girls.

But could we hope to see you again?

- Who could know... - Traditionally, every French in crisis prepare for a last stand...

the British will be invariably reluctant to withdraw...

until the last possible moment. Cor, I'll miss a bloody boat.

Sod it.

- This war... it's going to kill our business. - Yes.

Would you like to know what the British say on the situation? A bad venture.

What is the British say?

Keep in touch.

- [This is what I think as what it is, to show that something is on.] - Keep in touch.

You British are alright...

but what will happen to us, when the Boche gets here? - Oh, don't worry, just try to hang on, give us a day or two and we shall be back...

And... I mean in the meantime... eh...

Yes,... "keep in touch".

In those early critical days of the Second World War...

Americans' self discipline was exemplar.

Listen, ladies, in this war we Americans are neutral. We'll not give a damn, who kills Hitler.

I have to go.

Excuse moi, mon General.

- Eh, pouvez-vous... me le prou... quick route for Dunkirk? - You will easily recognize it.

It's right next to the sea... Water... Allons.

Rude sod...

- Hi Major! - Hi!

- - Where's your? - American Embassy.

He, he, sorry, old gent, no.

It's the wrong direction. Anyway I'm a bit pushed this morning.

Off to seaside, if I get this bloody wick started.

- Good luck! - Good luck!

In military terms... free Europe had been brought to it's knees.

In every other sense...

it remained proudly... erect.

No, I can't help, madame.

If they'd not allow, your license has to be revoked for the moment.

- No bickering, because to regulate it... - I know. - She must have a very good business here.

...for me... Please do it for me.

Here you are.

Tonight, big man?

- But why not now? - Tonight.

We're not working the day shift. Even for you, monsieur préfet.

Anyhow, you have another little man to attend to for me.

Ah, madame, not so little...

I am not entirely in my hands any longer.

There will be more in your hands... if you succeed.

- I shall do my best, depend on it. - I do.

Ah, cousin Jacques, cousin Berthe!

- So you've managed to get here. - Left on Thursday. - Friday. - Thursday.

- They bombed the train 3 times on Friday. - I am afraid some of the eggs were broken.

Will you give your aunt a present you brought here?

- From the farm. - Oh, you shoudn't have troubled to bring them. Not all that way. Put it down, dear.

So this is Marie-Claude.

The last time I saw you, you were sleeping in a basket.

- She is a good girl. - Very willing. - And no trouble. - She'll put a hand to anything.

I am sure she will.

Your aunt is to take care of you.

And the first thing we'll do is buy her some nice new dress for París.

- She may find it a little strange to start with. - Madame!

- He left this. - Who?

- The old général... he forgot to put it on. - Oh, very well, I'll take it.

- And you show my niece place she will be sleeping. Will you? - Of course.

- Bye, maman. - Do what your aunt says now.

- And don't forget to wear the drawers when it gets cold. - You stay the night, cousin Berthe?

I don't see it be better.

You know how it is, er, no sons, seven daughters... farm to run... must get back.

Gentlemen, I'm going to give you a toast.

France's most famous soldier... a woman.

Well, she resists at our advances, gives us a scratch shot or two, as any lady should before she surrenders...

And now she is in our arms...

We must woo her and praise her...

and get her into bed with us.

- Pigs! - You exaggerate, child...

- Stay by German naked and what have you got? - A square headed pot-bellied pig.

A man, Simone, like any other, he client, who comes here with one purpose...

So your purpose in coming here to military headquarters...

is to renew the license for brothel, first class...

A matter of extreme urgency, you have said.

- For the... convenience of your officers, monsieur... - So?

A politesse tojours. I want no complaints about your behavior, gentlemen.

Respect we have imposed, love... we cannot...

- And the Führer has decided... in Paris we ought to be loved. - I don't care what they are like...

You were refusing client because he is old, bother, ugly or dirty, but not just because he is German. Not in this house.

- In this house we make love, not war. - You are making war, not love.

Your application is refused...

pending investigation.

Monsieur...

Will you permit me to ask? By whom? Me!

- But this house, monsieur, is inspected regularly. - So?

As prefect of the district, I... What?

- May I perhaps... tell Madame Grenier, who will be calling on her? - The head of the Gestapo in Paris.

- And who is that, monsieur? - Me.

You know that you French disgust me.

You lose the war, you lose your country, you lose your honor...

and what you worry about?... A whorehouse!

But I assure you, monsieur,

Madame Grenier, it's an institution. - I said whorehouse and I mean whorehouse. Do I make myself clear?

What's the trouble here?

No trouble here, General, no trouble.

- Our friend looks troubled. - It's just a small matter of license, mon général.

Madame Grenier?

Oh, extraordinary!

Anything against it?

We have had no time to find out, Herr General.

Ah, then we better keep you from temptations.

Anyway... the recreation of the warrior is not a matter for the Gestapo.

Deal with this, Ludwig.

And remember the Führer's orders...

"We are not here to interfere with the French way of life."

You should be in bed.

Not tonight, honey. Not with this cold.

, silly boy.

Oui,

- Come on! - Papa Felix!

- Quickly! Girls! - Wait!

You, you and you on the door. The rest, follow me.

All the doors, stairs, the landing, everywhere.

This one...

What's the hell's going on! What's happening here?

- I am American citizen, I have diplomatic immunity. - Yes, of course. - And you ring the Embassy and check.

Please, don't be disturbed. There is nothing personal.

- Gesundheit. - What can this mean?

An honour, Madame, a great honour.

Eighteen years is a long time, Madame.

You remember... your "petit lapin"?

But I you well! How could I forget?

It was winter in Paris, you recall, that's for the German officer, you made it into spring.

The weather was not that I remember...

Today the Führer has been visiting L'Arc de Triomphe, Le Panthéon, Les Invalides, everything.

To night... I am sure, an another great landmark: your house.

My Führer... may I present... Madame Grenier.

Will you play some music for the Führer.

Girls, up! Marie-Claude, champagne, quickly! Jean, cigars!

But Führer does not drink and does not smoke.

Then we must find something that Führer does enjoy.

must be...

It's alright, don't be scared, I am a friend - British.

- Now then, who is inside? - Anywhere Minerve?

That's a face I've seen before.

Herr Chancellor, may I introduce you to my girls?

Mademoiselle Michèlle...

Mademoiselle Simone...

Claudine...

Louise...

Madeleine...

Helene... and ...

Late... Last! But by no means least. Our versatile and accomplished African, Mademoiselle Tom-Tom.

- Eine Schwartze!... Come! - Schnell!

- Damn!... - Schnell! Schnell!

But what happened? But what did we do?

It's alright, come on, man, it wasn't the music.

- Ah, Schmidt, I think, I will go back to headquarters and get some fresh air. - Jawohl, Herr Feldmarschall.

- His shoes... - Madame! - His shoes...

There is a man outside, that wants to see you.

You have to wait.

Jean, cognac!

Here, Papa, seep this, make you feel better.

Papa... Papa... Papa... Are you better, Papa?

We must get a doctor.

Herr Maréchal?

I thought I would accept your kind invitation to some champagne... on the house.

At your service, Herr Maréchal.

So, if you would perhaps be good enough to bring the wine to the room.

Mam'selle...

Marie-Claude... champagne.

So you are very... versatile, a little one?

And you will show me everything... everything.

And you are very strong.

I am going to need to be untied, big man.

Give me the champagne.

Don't forget: I give you orders here.