Waterloo Page #4

Those men on grey horses

are terrifying.

They are the noblest cavalry

in Europe. And the worst led.

That may be. That may be.

But we'll match them

with our lancers.

We're the hard boys!

Charge for the guns!

Sound the recall!

Stop that useless noise.

You'll hurt yourself.

Get back! Sound the recall!

Lancers on your left!

Look out on the left!

Give these to my son.

Ride on. Save yourself.

By God, sir, the cannons are calling us.

March to the sound of the guns.

- Our duty is to...

- Do not teach me my duty, General.

My orders from the Emperor were precise.

To keep my sword in Blucher's back.

If you will not march to the sound

of the guns, allow me to go.

And divide my force?

France would hang me.

And maybe France would be right.

- La Bedoyere!

- Yes, Sire.

What's moving there?

I see men marching in column.

Maybe five or six thousand.

He's right.

I see horses now.

Horses, but whose?

The French or the Prussians?

I think it's Grouchy's blue, sir.

It's what we feared, sir.

Grouchy has come across.

Damn it,

it could be Prussian black.

Hay, your eyes are young.

Tell me the colour.

I think they're...

Prussians.

That's not necessary.

It's the Prussians.

But as far as we are concerned,

they're on the moon.

- Is that understood?

- Yes, Sire.

Wellington wages war in a new way.

He fights sitting on his arse.

We'll have to move him off it.

Where's Grouchy?

La Haye Sainte. The one who wins

the farmhouse wins the battle.

Where is Grouchy?

I need those men. Where is Grouchy?

Why must I do everything myself?

Sire, are you wounded?

As your doctor I advise you to come

off the field. You must lie down.

I'm all right.

It's just my stomach.

After Austerlitz -

- I said I would have

six more good years.

Now it's ten years

and nine campaigns later.

- Listening?

- Every word.

After I am dead and gone,

what will the world say of me?

It will say you extended

the limits of glory.

Is that all I'll leave my son?

The limits of glory?

He's concentrating his cavalry.

The infantry is still sitting.

Smoke without fire.

What's he at?

- A hard pounding, gentlemen.

- Yes, sir.

Lord Hay,

take yourself for a run.

General Lambert

will retire a hundred paces.

- But, Your Grace...

- Do as you're told, sir!

General order.

The army will retire a hundred paces.

The army retires 100 paces!

The 27th will take position

behind the Gordons!

It's bad policy to stay near a tree

in a thunderstorm. It attracts bolts.

I'll take your impudent advice.

Wellington's retreating!

Nillion, follow me!

Trumpeter, sound the advance!

- Le Fevre, are you with me?

- Yes, Sire!

Fire!

Withdraw to square!

Shoot at the horses!

What's Ney doing?

Can't I leave the field for a minute?

What's he doing there?

How can the cavalry go forward

without infantry support?

Remember your wives, your sweethearts,

your homes! Think of England, men!

Think of England!

Come on, you bastards!

Let me go! For God's sake,

leave me alone!

- Let me go.

- Stop him, someone!

We've never seen each other.

How can we kill one another?

How can we? How can we?

How can we kill one another?

How can we? How can we?

Why do we? Why?

Ney requests infantry, Sire.

- General Lambert needs reinforcements.

- I can only give him my best wishes.

De Lancey, move that battery down

towards Hougoumont.

Get the surgeon over here!

The farm house is ours!

Long live France!

Soult, write a letter to Paris

right now and tell them...

- What time do you think it is?

- About six o'clock, Sire.

Tell them that at six o'clock

we broke Wellington's forces -

- And won the battle. No.

Tell them that we won the war.

The farm house has fallen, sir.

We can't hold them.

It appears, Uxbridge,

that we're losing the battle.

Give me night.

Or give me Blucher.

Wellington's beaten.

He's bled to death.

Now move the Old Guard forward.

Then, on to Brussels.

Sire, if you go any further,

you will be killed.

- A general should die on the field.

- Sire, you must go back. Please.

I abandon my position on the left.

I want all remaining men here!

Here. Every brigade,

every battalion, here!

Put every gun to them, sir.

Every gun.

Very good, sir.

The lads are down to

five rounds a man, Wellington.

But they'll stand.

If Blucher doesn't come through now,

they'll break every bone in my body.

Good beans, Wellington.

If there's anything I know

nothing about it is agriculture.

Sire, the Prussians are in the woods!

Blucher is in the woods!

I should have burned Berlin.

Raise the black flags, children.

No pity. No prisoners.

I'll shoot any man I see

with pity in him.

Onward!

On, my children!

Now, Maitland! Now's your time!

To the guard!

- It's Grouchy!

- It's Blucher, look!

Run! All is lost! Run!

Why do you stand there

like frightened children?

What are you afraid of?

You call yourselves soldiers!

Soult, remember you're a general.

La Bedoyere, the Prussians are too late.

Too late. Wellington is beaten.

Don't you understand? Wellington

is beaten! Where's your faith?

I was in this position at Marengo.

I lost the battle at five o'clock,

but I won it back again at seven!

Is it Prussians?

Up to them! Up to them!

Am I to fight alone?

Stand with me!

Are you French? Stand with me!

Are you the Guard?

One more hour

and we have them beaten!

Don't you know me?

I'm Ney, Marshal of France!

Sir, the Prussians are here!

The Old Guard has broken!

Damn me, Uxbridge, if I ever saw

- The whole line will advance.

- In which direction, Your Grace?

Straight ahead, to be sure.

Stand firm on the right!

Form square!

Form square!

By God, sir, I've lost my leg.

By God, sir, so you have.

Get forward with him!

Stand by the flag! Stand!

Sire, you must get out!

You must escape!

If I die, it will be here

in the field, with my men.

Please, Sire.

The enemy must not touch you.

France must not lose you, Sire.

- Sire, the battle is lost.

- Where is Grouchy?

Where is Grouchy?

Vive la France!

You must stay alive, Sire.

Stand and form square!

We're doing murder, Your Grace.

I hope to God -

- I've fought my last battle.

Brave Frenchmen!

You have done all

that the honour of war requires.

His Grace, the Duke of Wellington,

invites you to save your lives.

Will you agree to surrender?

Merde!

Fire!

Why do we? Why? Why?

Next to a battle lost,

the saddest thing is a battle won.

You must leave

this place of dead flesh.

They will chain you -

- Like Prometheus to a rock.

Where the memory of your

own greatness will gnaw you.

English SubRip by

=DS= 2006

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