Five years later
German Occupied Paris 1943
A man in grey uniform, 43 years of age, sits behind a desk. A wounded
soldier is escorted inside his office. The wounded soldier snaps his heels and
praises Hitler. The man, faces him. The soldier comes face to face with the
head of the political police, the Gestapo, Heinrich Müller. Heinrich raises his
hand, shoulder level in authority.
Heinrich Müller: Name and Rank?
Soldat: Karl Pohl, Feldwebel, 18. Infanterie-Division.
Heinrich Müller: Gut, gut. Now tell me what happened?
4 days earlier
It was a cold and dark evening in the french country side. A speeding
German Sd.Kfz. 11 half-track carries eight well-equiped German soldiers,
including the driver. Along the road, a convoy of a supply truck and two
towed 75mm infantry guns lay burning and destroyed, approximately 13
soldiers lay dead or dying.
Near the apparently ambushed convoy is an abandoned farm house. Inside
are 5 people.
Jean-Pierre Audiard: That sure was one hell of an ambush.
François Fourcade: Ha ha! The best one yet!
Jean-Pierre Audiard: 13 soldiers and 2 artillery.
Henri Muracciole: No, 3 trucks, 13 German soldiers, and 2 German-turned
French artillery.
Jean-Pierre Audiard: Whatever Henri.
One of them notices a half-truck nearing and nearing fast.
Maurice Azéma: Jean-Pierre, a half-truck, looks like we got a handful of
germans again.
Andre Sartre: They'll all die by this panzerfaust of theirs.
The convoy they just ambushed was carrying 5 crates of anti-tank
warheads, commonly known as "Faustpatrone," (there's 4 of these in one
crate) and a whole lot of munitions. The convoy probably came from a
weapons factory.
Jean-Pierre: Excellent idea, Andre. All of you seen the movie "l'Bombe Boys?"
Henri: No.
François: Never heard of it, captain.
Andre: Oui, I think I understand...
Jean-Pierre: Oui, we blow them up. I'm sure they'll inspect this perfect
ambush spot. And once they go in...
Henri: Boom.
The french men laugh. They line all the Faustpatrone, 19 to be exact, along
the walls of the house as if making a palisade wall of RPG's. All of them exit
the house and run towards hedgerows. Andre Sartre carries with him the last
remaining faustpatrone. They can't help it but chuckle in their hiding. The
german half-track stops it's tracks behind one of the destroyed artillery.
Hauptmann: Damned french. Heinz, Karl Pohl, Karl Glücks, you guys look for
survivors and check the supply truck. The rest of you come with me.
Soldaten: Jawohl.
Heinz and the two Karls check their comrades on the ground, hoping
somebody survived and one who could share some information. Behind them,
with flashlights leading their way, the Hauptmann and four other soldiers
carefully advance towards the abandoned house. While the rest take cover
around the house, two soldiers check the front windows and, aside from
dusty basic household stuff, they see an empty room. As they are about to
remove their light from the room, one soldier notices a faustpatrone, fixed
well against the wall, and sees a second, and third more or less equally
distant from each other.
Soldat: Hauptmann! Check this out...
The Hauptmann, sharp as a knife, suspects this as an ambush.
Behind the hedgerows.
Jean-Pierre: Andre?
Andre: Should I wait for them to go in?
Jean-Pierre: The officer is smart, he won't go in.
Just as the Hauptmann turns around to check on Heinz and the two Karls,
Andre releases his rocket propelled grenade.
Heinrich Müller: So you heard the sound of a rocket, that of a panzerfaust?
Karl Pohl: Ja...
Andre: Auf Wiedersehen Klaus!
The house oblitarates like half a thousand pound bomb going into one side
and exiting the other. The Hauptmann and his soldiers are blown away dead.
Heinz gets hit by a couple of sharp wood in his face and around his body.
The two Karls are also hit by wooden debris. The French couldn't take it any
longer, they laughed. They checked their weapons and slowly went out of
their hiding place and approached the Germans.
From the side, the crawling Hauptmann grabs his pistol.
Maurice Azéma, the french group's look out, leads the team towards the
chaos. He does not notice the Hauptmann.
Hauptmann: Die fucking french!
He shoots his pistol and hits Maurice in his ass. Maurice hits the ground.
Maurice: God damn!
Jean-Pierre, just a couple of feet behind him, sees the Hauptmann and
releases a fury of bullets, killing the Hauptmann. The group of somewhat
psychotic french men, laughs at Maurice.
Henri: Shot in the ass again, are we? I'm sure we can find morphine in one of
the german's pockets.
They let Maurice sit on the side.
The two Karls on the ground look at each other, they know they're going to
die. Jean-Pierre, François, and Andre locks their weapons above the two
Karls. They are helped up, ordered to put their hands on their heads, and are
frisked. Karl Glücks knows French, he tries to beg for their life.
Karl Glücks: Please, don't shoot us.
Jean-Pierre: What makes you think we'd want to shoot you?
Karl Glücks: Please, don't.
Jean-Pierre: Ok, here's the deal. You guys recently rounded up some of our
men, good men that at that, a few days ago...
He takes out a map.
Jean-Pierre: I want to know where they are and who's guarding them.
Karl Pohl answers in German.
Karl Pohl: Fuck you! For the good of Germany, we're not telling you.
Jean-Pierre is pissed by the other Karl and aims his gun to his head.
Jean-Pierre: I wasn't asking you Klaus. Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Our men,
where are they and who's guarding them?
Karl Glücks instantaneously points at the map. Karl Pohl looks at the other
Karl.
Karl Glücks: If I were you, I won't even think of going there, a whole batailon
is forming there.
Jean-Pierre: Well, now I'm not sure if that was true or not. One thing is for
sure though. Both of you are going to live... You're gonna live only so that
you're going to tell your superiors that "Maurice" did this...
Heinrich Müller: Maurice, eh?
Karl Pohl: Ja.
Heinrich Müller: What happened to Karl Glücks?
Karl Pohl: Sir, to the extent of my knowledge and belief, he was a traitor to
Germany. I shot him.
Heinrich Müller: You are a blessing to his state Sgt. Pohl. You may leave.
Karl Pohl snaps his heels again and leaves.