Fort Saganne Page #4

and the Sahara.

Do you feel up to it?

I don't, sir.

You'll learn to...

Saganne.

So?

I failed trigonometry.

I won't make warrant officer.

I'm not even close.

I'm sorry.

It's okay.

The rain, that smell...

I'd forgotten all about it.

So the house is almost ours.

Go spend your vacation there

and start furnishing it.

Charles...

- I want to get married.

- "Want" or "will"?

I'm getting married,

as soon as I get my assignment.

Her name's Marthe Vallin.

I met her at a friend's.

She's a school teacher.

You and Dad are going

to like her.

- Lucien, you're 20 years old.

- 21 in two months.

No sermons, please!

I've heard it all before.

You don't know how lucky

you are to be a cadet!

- I know I owe it all to you.

- It's not what I mean!

You're ruining it all! You don't study,

you want to get married...

a 20 year-old failure!

I'm sorry, Lucien.

I'll come by your hotel.

Nine times the size of France.

Everything is big there.

Wind, silence, space...

those words take on

a whole different meaning there.

For those who have the honor

to insure the French peace there,

the desert teaches energy

and abnegation.

In the Sahara,

men are just men...

stripped of all pretense.

They are truer to themselves.

That is why we mustn't jeopardize

France's work in the Sahara.

Mr. Minister,

Ladies and Gentlemen,

peace will be threatened

until the rebels beyond

the border are wiped out.

It is the only option.

And it can be done.

That is all.

I'm the Baron de Soucy,

head of the Catholic

Colonial Friendship.

I meant to ask,

what do you think of the theory

according to which the Berber nomads

descend from crusaders?

It is said that, on their trip

to the Holy Land,

they got lost in the desert.

What do I think?

Nothing.

- I got your note this morning.

- And I got yours.

I had to sneak out

to get here.

Charles...

Marthe is waiting downstairs.

I want you to meet her.

I have nothing to say to her.

- She has a child, but I don't care.

- I don't want to discuss this.

By marrying an unwed mother, you're

ruining your career and your life.

I am asking you not to marry her.

That's impossible.

I'm warning you,

I'll do everything I can

to put a stop to this madness.

- I was expecting better from you.

- So was I.

Mr. Minister will see you now.

Lieutenant, that operation beyond

the borders will not take place,

in spite of Dubreuilh, who's been

after his two stars for four years.

- Him?

- Like all of them.

But Dubreuilh is

out of touch with reality.

We may soon

be at war with Germany,

so forget about Sultan Omar.

The right time was last year.

It's too late now.

Leave Dubreuilh to his mirage.

You seem nice,

brave and energetic.

You know the locals.

You need a real job.

I have an offer for you.

The Franco-Algerian Alfa

needs a new director

to replace

the decrepit Saint-Ilette.

Think about it before

you give me your answer.

There's nothing to think about.

- "The Liberating Angel."

- Beg your pardon?

Didn't you read the paper?

"The Liberating Angel"...

that's the title.

"He's handsome, brave

and eloquent.

Lieutenant Charles Saganne

has it all

and managed to charm us with his warm

voice and thrilling adventures.

However, what has

the desert taught him?

Energy, abnegation,

so it seems.

But where does

Saganne's path really lead?

He is a magnificent

blind machine

rushing ahead unaware

of what makes it go."

- Who wrote that?

- Louise Tissot...

our contemporary

Georges Sand.

Sir, I accepted my mission in Paris

because I considered it useful.

It turned out to be grotesque.

Colonel Dubreuilh had

no right to be so mistaken!

And you just tried to corrupt me!

If I don't reply to these insults,

then I deserve to be called a puppet.

Here you are.

I had everything planned out

and I fell asleep.

Planned out?

Hand me my robe, please.

The newspaper

gave you my address.

That's why I wrote that article.

So you'd come here.

My robe, please.

This was planned too.

What was?

You coming close to me,

your hand in mine...

I wanted to see you.

I wanted you.

If you hadn't come,

I would have gone to your hotel.

Easy.

Easy.

Easy!

Kiss me.

Easy! Easy!

Wait. Not yet.

Wait. Wait.

Young man in a hurry.

- What are you doing?

- Working.

Don't put your clothes on.

Please.

I want to stay with you.

For how long?

Don't.

I'll do what you say.

Let go.

Let go!

- I am meeting someone.

- Don't go.

If I put my life on hold for you,

what will it look like in two days?

- What?

- My life.

- What about me?

- Your life is there.

But I'm not stuck there.

I can come and go.

Please don't go!

- I'm begging you!

- Louise.

What's wrong?

Stop it. Louise!

You represent everything

that I hate...

the uniform, power

and moral justifications.

All that seems too far now.

I've learned so much with you.

- In my bedroom?

- Indeed.

In your bedroom.

Sir?

There's a letter for you.

Your hotel sent it over.

Thanks.

What is it?

What's wrong?

Please leave me alone. I don't want

to look pathetic in front of you.

What's wrong?

I'll leave you alone.

Call me if you need me.

So I did what I thought

was right.

I went to the Ministry of War

and I asked them to prevent

Lucien from getting married.

After he was

officially informed,

he went to see

that young woman,

he told her...

and she drowned

two hours later.

You're all pale.

I turn yellow

in such situations.

You shouldn't have done that.

And you shouldn't have told me.

Go.

Vulpi!

Vulpi!

Get up! Arms drill!

You've been sleeping

for three months!

He's gone nuts.

Are you going out tonight?

Now that Dubreuilh's

been sent off,

how long do you think

we'll stay in this jolly place?

We'll be here awhile.

Wattignie's taking it out on me.

And you on them.

It makes sense.

That's the point of hierarchy.

Go wash up. You stink.

Sure, sure, sure.

It's a not a good sign

when they suddenly take off.

They left the old lady behind.

What's she saying?

She says Sultan Omar is coming back

to cut everybody's balls off. Bullshit.

Still, go check out

what's going on.

"Dear Madeleine,

I'm all alone.

This place is deserted,

completely empty,

just like me.

I think of you more and more,

and I wish I could have you

naked next to me,

my skin against your skin...

your legs, your belly..."

"Dear Madeleine,

how have you been?

I hope you

and your family are well.

Do you still play tennis

with my friend Hazan?

- My work here..."

- So you took my booze!

- You've had enough to drink!

- It's mine!

Give it back.

"Dear Madeleine..."

No kidding?

You're still hopeful?

It's too f***ing late!

You've been f***ed!

The peasant guy got f***ed!

I can't take this anymore.

I have no desire for anything.

Just leave.

Take a leave.

Go home. To Arige.

- So?

- Sir, they're all saying

many warriors are siding

with Sultan Omar.

Three different tribes!

- 30 came by yesterday.

- Did you see them?

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