A Generation Page #4

- Sergeant.

We'll discuss this in the office.

Better clean up this mess first.

And stop bothering me

with your talk of communists.

- Where's Janek?

- Not back yet.

Probably gave himself up

and is naming names now.

This is bad.

- You better get out of here.

- Glue!

If anything happens here,

I'll let you know.

Found an odd job in town?

Need a partner?

Forget it.

Don't you know what's going on?

There's something not right with that boy.

Something's a bit off.

Politics, Mr. Zelazowski.

They start them early these days!

Where are you off to?

My mother's ill.

What are the tools for?

You going to plane off her hump?

It's good you're here.

Jasio's dead.

Jesus.

We must go now.

What do you want from him?

Acting like you have a right

to bother people in their own homes.

Isn't it enough the Germans harass us?

Now our own people too?

This isn't right.

What's all this?

What do you want here?

You know damn well.

Stop playing dumb.

They barged in

and turned the place upside down.

Who are they? Germans, or what?

The police?

Rats looking for Jews to sell?

I don't know who they are.

Nowadays, scum breeds like rabbits.

- This is Ziarno, from our shop.

- Mr. Ziarno.

Mr. Ziarno.

I don't know the other one.

We're soldiers of

a Polish underground army.

You'd better tell me

where the pistol is that you stole.

What pistol?

Did you sell it?

What do you want from him?

Stach?

I don't know what they want.

A man breaks his back working

and lives on rations,

but even at home

they won't leave him in peace.

Go fight the Germans.

What do you want here?

Did you go into the storeroom?

I was sent in.

There.

There what?

Everyone goes in there.

You've spent hours there yourself.

The truth now. Did you sell it?

Who, me?

Some people trade in guns.

I don't.

He's in tight with the communists.

He used to be pals with Sekula

when he worked at our place.

I'm friends with those

who are kind to me.

I've never heard a civil word from you.

Now you want me to pay

for your own shady affairs.

Look for a scapegoat somewhere else.

That's all I can say.

Look here, friend -

Antoniowa, lend me -

Sorry.

Bad timing.

Call the neighbors.

These hooligans are bothering us!

I'm off!

Franek!

Kazio, quick!

Antoniowa's in trouble!

Men, come here! Bandits!

Well? Gonna start shooting?

Just try it.

You won't get out of here alive.

We're not the kind

to frighten easily down here.

Jesus!

Don't let those bastards off the hook!

Beat the crap out of 'em!

Well, Mr. Ziarno...

you've had it,

as far as I'm concerned.

I'm in trouble now.

Hopelessly in trouble.

Ziarno's gonna have his eye on me.

They know where I live.

You can't put other people in danger.

You've got to go underground.

You'll get false papers and go under cover.

But where?

What about here for now?

Comrades tell me

that after the recent arrests,

I ought to change address too,

but I'll wait a while.

I've gotten used to my little place.

Listen, Stach.

The group meets tomorrow

at the brickyard.

This is the sign.

The passwords are,

"Do you sell down feathers?"

"Yes, I sell down feathers. "

You'll meet our new boys

and take over as platoon leader.

Really?

You're a strange one.

Comrades say you're brave,

yet you're such a child.

Me brave? I get scared.

Very scared.

When I think how I too

may be shot before this is over

and never live to see my future...

And how, if I got killed...

I'd never see you again.

We've got a big job ahead of us.

When it's over, every holiday

will be like a fairground.

Bright lights and music,

and dancing all the way.

Could it be just our imagination?

Could it be it's easier to die

for the cause than to live for it?

My real name is Eve.

I'll be damned.

It is worth fighting for.

It is worth living.

It is worth living.

It's curfew time.

You can't go out in the street.

Good morning.

Yeah? What's so good about it?

You're an early bird.

What can I do for you?

Let me have a rye loaf.

Maniek, be quiet in there or else!

Oh, God. The milk!

What a life!

- Give me half a pound.

- Certainly.

It all started

when my husband got run in.

Business dealings, you know.

He wasn't careful enough.

You know how it is now.

I don't have enough to bail him out.

The police are all leeches.

Here you are.

It's no life without a man.

Let me have those sunflowers.

Here you are.

Hey, mister.

Gestapo!

Do you sell down feathers?

Yes.

I sell down feathers.

THE END:

SkyFury

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