I'll tell you a story.
During the winter of 1944 to 1945,
the US army broke through the Siegfried line.
Two years later, a French mine-clearing crew
was demolishing the remains of the blockhouses.
Suddenly, through a hole in the ground, there appeared...
a group of thin, blind, ghostly figures with great long beards.
There were six of them -
the sole survivors of a German Army division.
Two years before, the US bombardments
had flattened their bunker, trapping them inside.
They had food.
They drank moisture from the walls.
They lost all sense of time.
They survived from habit,
living like vegetables, mushrooms or moss.
The war passed over their heads and they were forgotten.
The point of this story is that, within a few days of being rescued,
all six of them died.
The cause of their death was a mystery.
Was it a virus? A new disease?
I know why they died.
They could no longer face real life. That's all.
I think I'm the same.
I never could face up to real life.
Someone once said, "The best lives are invented. "
I think it was me.
A SELF-MADE HERO
Were the Dehousses a local family?
Yes, they were here for generations.
Until 1945, there was a street named after one of them.
I'm talking about the early 1900s.
In Albert's time, the money had long since run out.
"Tennis.
"T-E-N-N-I-S.
"An outdoor game
"for two or four people
"playing on two opposing sides, with racquets... "
"'Captain!
"'I think we're being followed! '
"Cried Miss Edith, peering through the blizzard.
"'By Jove, yes! ' said Corcoran. 'I do believe it's a polar bear! '
"'My God! ' screamed Edith... "
Get down!
Is everybody all right?
You have performed a remarkable deed.
You're a hero.
No, sir, I only did my duty.
Raise the flag!
Have you got a light?
Thanks, old man.
Albert, dinner's ready!
I'm coming!
Lambersart, 1930.
Albert was 12 years old.
His father was a picture on the wall, a soldier killed in action,
a family hero.
At dinner, a place was always set for him -
knife on the left, fork on the right as he was left-handed.
I've done my best.
He said I was a saint and he was right.
He died for you. One day you'll understand.
Why am I all alone?
Why can't I have a life, like everybody else?
Your father died for his country,
but those town hall officials want you to starve!
By rights, I should have a pension
and you should be a ward of the state.
What a fine country!
If we were Jews or Freemasons, things would be different!
"Jew. J-E-W.
"A member of the Jewish race, an Israelite.
"A Polish Jew," spelt with a capital J.
"They pitched camp on a hilltop, their gaudy tents in full view.
"They were glad to be seen for miles around.
" 'Soldiers! I'm proud of you.
" 'You're fine men.
" 'This battle will be decisive. Victory cannot escape us.
" 'The enemy quakes. Have no mercy! ' "
Sod your dad!
He was no hero. He was an alcoholic like mine.
He wasn't killed in action. He dropped dead in Toquet's bar.
That's not true! He was gassed.
What are you talking about?
Your mum says that because she wants a pension,
but the town hall blokes aren't stupid.
They know your dad had a nickname at Toquet's bar.
- Do you know what it was? - No, I don't know.
Do you want to know?
Don't you want to know?
Do you want to know or not?
I'll tell you if you give me your bag.
School bags don't just get lost.
Did someone steal it?
Did they?
That school of yours is the bane of my life!
Mum?
Not "Mum", "Mummy".
Mummy, what does "cirrhosis" mean?
What does it mean?
Nothing. It's a rude word.
Look at me, dear. Look at me!
Whatever anyone has told you, it's a lie.
Look at me! Who would you rather believe?
Riff-raff who soil your father's memory,
or your mother who loves you and cares for you?
Who would you rather believe?
My mummy.
Stop crying.
If your father could see you now!
This was Albert's first contact with deceit.
It was also how he found his vocation - he would be a hero.
Years went by.
Albert went to primary school, and then to a local convent school.
Times changed.
He learned new words - front-wheel drive, Popular Front, paid holidays -
and exotic names - Hitler, Mussolini, Franco, Stalin.
In 1939, war broke out.
As a war widow's only child, Albert wasn't called up.
He missed a chance to be a hero.
The Germans entered Lambersart in June 1940.
Albert was 22.
In. It was in.
No, that's... no.
15... Game.
Coming!
The Allies began bombing the north of France in 1942.
The Dehousses' cellar was a shelter.
Mind my clean floor! At least wipe your feet!
Be careful!
Wipe your feet!
- Can't you give me any warning? - The RAF don't give us any!
- Stop pushing! - Come and help me.
Is that everyone?
- Where are you going? - Oh, I know...
- Aren't you coming? - I've had enough. I'm off to bed.
Why are you holding that?
Remember to bolt the door after they've gone.
- Good night, Mummy. - Good night.
Excuse me.
- Sorry. It was my fault. - Don't worry.
I was looking for the toilet.
This way.
Follow me.
Mind the table.
- Do you know this house? - I live here.
You're the Dehousse boy?
- I'm Yvette Caron. - Mind the step.
His name is Jean.
- What's yours? - Albert.
Wait. My poor feet. These shoes are killing me.
Can you hold this?
That's better.
What?
I said it's better without my shoes.
This way.
Watch out!
- It's strange we haven't met before. - Why?
I work at Martel's textile company.
I'm in accounts. My father works there too, in sales.
What do you do?
- Who, me? - Not the air raid warden, silly!
What's your occupation?
I write.
Really? Are you a journalist?
No, I write novels. I'm currently writing a novel.
How interesting!
Yes, it is.
"At sunrise, the forest filled with animal cries.
"He seized her wrists and forced her backwards. "
- " 'Repeat that! ' - " 'I can't. '
"'You're lying again! '
"Boris stopped himself. He felt ashamed.
"He knew he was a violent man, but why was he so brutal?
"Why this sudden anger?
"Why could he not trust his wife?
"Was he not dishonouring his wife?
"His heart filled with love and counselled him wisely.
"He saw that courtesy and kindness
"were the only way to win over the headstrong Sheeba. "
This is London.
Here are some personal messages - Grandfather is eating...
Wait...
- It is time to pick tomatoes. - "I'm scared you'll leave by ship. "
- "Sheeba, don't worry... " - Titian was a painter.
"You'll see me again soon. "
It's super, Albert. Really!
Where do you get it all from?
I have no imagination. Really, none.
I can barely write a postcard.
Who was that other man?
George, a cousin from Brittany.
So what happens to Sheeba?
I haven't decided yet.
- Haven't you? - I haven't made up my mind.
I misjudged you, Albert.
I thought you were shy and a bit stuck-up.
I didn't know you were like this.
So here we are.
Goodbye, Albert.
Goodbye, Yvette.
Will you read me the rest?
Promise?
I promise.
"Boris took a breath.
"'I'm listening, Selina. '
"She lay at his feet and gazed at him
"with her strange, small eyes.
"'Never doubt me... '"
Adopted by the Caron family, Albert discovered a new world.
He learned new words - Sunday, family, aperitif, boules...
For once in his life, he felt he belonged, he felt alive.
You can't possibly marry her.
She's beneath you. You can't!
They're working-class communists!
They go to church.
What?
They go to church on Sundays.
They're the worst kind!
The worst, you hear?
They were married two weeks later. Mrs Dehousse stayed at home.
The local band serenaded the newlyweds.
Yvette's parents lent them their bedroom.
"Breast. B-R-E-A-S-T.
"From Old English"breost", udder. "
- Was it nice? - Yes.
It was the first time for me.
How about you?
For me, too.
Give me a cuddle.
Can I ask you something?
Put your dress back on.
I'm not dressing up again.
Please.
In Marseilles, Mr Lacombe, the Deputy Governor,
saw the 2,000th volunteer worker off to Germany.
In Paris, Pétain's boys also reported for duty.
They leave for Germany today to begin their apprenticeships.
What did I say about writers?
- They're shirkers. - Exactly.
The Krauts will say the same.
Do you want to go to Germany?
Nor do we, especially Yvette.
You need a proper, steady job.
Go study next door, Jean.
In sales representation, the key word is "presentation". Got that?
So pull up your trousers.
Stand up straight. You look like a tramp.
Now, in sales repping there's an element of cheekiness.
Not lying, cheekiness.
Persuasion, if you prefer.
Do you see the difference?
Act smooth and they're wary. Act stupid and they switch off. Got that?
Ring the bell and then start.
...and then I start.
Come in.
Good morning, madam.
Martel & Co.
Stop. You have to smile.
Start again.
Do I ring?
Come in.
Good morning, madam. Martel & Co.
We sell household linen and babywear.
Good morning, madam! Martel & Co!
Smile. Stand up straight.
We'd like to show you some samples.
Good morning, madam. Martel & Co. We sell linen and babywear.
Could you spare a few minutes?
I tracked Albert Dehousse down in the Martel & Co records -
household linen manufacturers,
where his father-in-law had worked
as a salesman for 20 years.
He got Dehousse the job
to save him from being sent to work in Germany.
Extracts from the Martel company records, from July 1943 to June 1944.
"Albert Dehousse - Good presentation. Excellent results. "
Albert had a wife, a job and Sunday lunch with Mother.
He almost forgot there was a war on.
What are you looking at?
Get out of here! You didn't see anything.
Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with Thee...
Blessed art Thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of Thy womb...
No, let me go!
Don't kill me! I have three children!
Didn't you hear me? Get out of here!
The first English soldier rode through Lambersart
on 6th September, 1944.
What happened to Mrs Dehousse?
She had never had a job.
Then one day,
she was seen at the town hall,
organising ration cards.
People didn't want to talk to her.
Because of the ration cards?
Amongst other things.
What other things?
Mrs Dehousse collaborated throughout the war.
In 1943, she was rewarded with a war widow's pension.
- What happened at the Liberation? - Oh, well...
You must have heard something?
Does the camera bother you?
Please don't! No!
Please!
Come and help me, Albert!
What's going on here? What the hell are you doing?
Are you out of your minds?
This is a Resistance home!
I'm Caron's daughter. The Germinal network, get it?
What's your problem? Is something bothering you?
Shall I get my father? He loves dealing with bullies.
Get the hell out of here!
Help me, Albert.
Help me.
What was the "network" story?
It's not a story. We helped some English pilots who were shot down.
Daddy hid them in barns.
Get me a towel and some water.
Your father?
Yes.
Get me a towel and some water!
What are you doing?
Hurry up!
Why didn't you tell me?
Daddy told us not to. It was too dangerous.
I thought you knew. You did your sales calls together.
And you have so much imagination.
Cheer up.
Come on, cheer up.
It's no big deal.
You know that I love you.
I've had happier times in my life.
You're always searching for reasons.
Well, there you have the reason for one thing - my leaving.
Frankly, what else could I do?
What would you have done?
Could you have walked right in,
said hello, kissed your wife and joined the party?
Of course not.
Do you know why?
Because you would have been devastated.
Devastated.
What's up with you?
You can't stay there all night!
Do you want a lift?
Hop in, then.
Come on, hop in!
Mummy, it's a lady.
When did your husband disappear?
6th September.
The day Lambersart was liberated.
He went to his mother's house and then he didn't come home.
We've searched everywhere.
It's been two months.
I don't understand it.
They found his bike.
- Did you go to the police? - Yes.
They said that, in the circumstances, they can't help.
All we can do is wait.
But I can't wait any longer.
I'm sorry to insist,
but how do you know that your husband is still alive?
I just know.
I can feel it.
I just feel it, that's all.
Good evening, sir.
Can you spare any change?
Good night, sir.
Excuse me, could you spare any change? Sorry.
Have a good evening.
You've got it all wrong.
What?
You're doing it wrongly.
You put your hand out as if you're apologising.
That coat makes you look like a sack of potatoes.
Does a sack apologise? Of course not.
You scare them. Take it off.
- What? - Take that thing off!
And the jacket.
- But I'll be cold. - Take it off!
- I'll be cold! - Cold but dignified.
They'll love it.
A man in a shirt in the rain melts their hearts.
And you can see it in the dark.
Go on. Remember to smile!
Good evening. Can you spare any change?
Thank you!
Thank you, sir. Thank you, madam. Enjoy your evening!
You're not really a tramp, are you? Tramps gobble their food.
You don't.
You use your knife and fork and wipe your mouth.
You're well-bred, right?
Do you mind my asking?
No, it's OK.
You don't have to answer.
No, no... Yes.
You look like the "no-yes" type.
What's your name?
Dehousse, Albert.
Albert Dehousse.
What can I get you next?
- What is there? - Tripe and potatoes.
Tripe it is. It reminds me of London.
What will Albert Dehousse have?
The same, please.
Why London?
Tripe reminds you of London.
A little French restaurant in Soho with checked curtains
and a red-haired waitress dressed to match.
Chez Roger, on the corner of Hanway Street.
We met the BBC boys there - Marin, Nervoix and the others.
They did tripe on Tuesdays.
You were in London during the war?
It would seem so.
How fantastic!
Fantastic? What a word!
The Citroen 15 is fantastic. Charles Trenet is fantastic.
But war, quite honestly...
Here's something fantastic for you.
If he was in London, I was in Lourdes!
And then?
I was parachuted into France.
After being in London?
What for?
Why would I be parachuted into France in 1942? To learn German?
Shall we order another?
Yes, no?
I met the Captain in 1956 when his book Bad Memory came out.
I was a young publisher.
It was only my second novel.
He used the pen name "Jean Dionnet"?
Yes, but it's not significant.
I knew him by several names.
He loved that.
He said he loved three things -
the past subjunctive tense, big trees, and deceit in every form.
Why did the name "Captain" come from?
He was in a Free French Unit in England.
Thank you, sir.
Goodbye.
One question, Albert. Do you like men?
That depends. What kind of men?
The kind you embrace in the dark.
Don't stare.
Just say yes or no. Yes, no?
No need to get upset. I heard you.
Have you got somewhere to sleep?
I didn't say "have sex". I said "sleep".
Have you got somewhere to sleep?
Go to the Royal Lepic. Tell them the Captain sent you.
I can't keep up with what you're saying.
Hello, Albert.
Hello, Odette.
- Keep behind me, my love. - I'm here.
We haven't got time to mess around!
- Not today. - Come on.
- Is it busy tonight? - Yes.
Thank you. Have a good evening!
LET'S NOT GRUMBLE...
August had been bliss.
We know the pictures -
girls on tanks, people kissing and dancing in the street...
We thought now Paris was liberated, the war was over.
But months went by,
winter came, and there was still no coal nor enough food.
People began to have second thoughts.
I remember an elderly lady telling me innocently,
"When the Germans were here,
"we were hungry and cold but at least it was well organised!"
Between the occupied and free zones I had six different identities.
One wrong answer, you're dead!
- How did you do it? - I made it all up.
If you mix your life in with your story,
they'll check up and you've had it.
The past always drags you down. Invent the whole story from A to Z.
Empty hands, empty pockets, everything filed away.
Did you kill many Germans?
On occasion.
How many?
Numbers don't count. What counts is the pleasure you get.
That's the danger.
War is good in that way. You get to kill lots of Germans.
Peace is the problem.
I'm re-enlisting. I'm going to Berlin.
Plenty of warmth and human contact there!
Do you know what I mean?
Do you believe me, you fool?
Happy New Year, sir.
I wished you a Happy and Prosperous New Year.
Happy New Year, young man.
Excuse me.
I'm not used to kindness. It seems strange.
Do you know me?
No, sir.
Don't you know my name?
Call me Jo. Have you never seen Mr Jo?
Are you sure?
Not even pictures in crappy magazines?
No, sir.
So you said "Happy New Year", free of charge?
This is the German embassy in 1943.
The one in uniform is Otto Abetz, the German ambassador.
Next to him is Mr Jo.
This is August, 1944.
Not the day before or the day after, but the day of Liberation.
Exit collaborating scrap merchant. Enter resistance hero.
Mind-blowing!
Do you see all this?
Mr Jo earned it by one thing only - doing favours.
I've always done favours.
The Germans want bronze? No problem. Mr Jo delivers bronze.
The Gestapo want information? No problem.
Mr Jo delivers information.
The Resistance wants Gestapo men? No problem.
Mr Jo delivers the Gestapo men to the Resistance.
Doing favours.
That's the secret.
Now copy addresses from the machine
and send Mr Jo's wishes to his friends.
When the bell rings, show in Mr Jo's friends.
Always ask Mr Jo's friends to wait.
When I say so, show the friends into Mr Jo's office.
In the first two weeks of February, Albert wrote 2,575 cards.
Mr Jo had many friends.
Albert showed in many important men.
He made them all wait,
and instinctively filed away their names and faces,
as the Captain had told him to.
Dear friend, come in.
It's open.
Hello, are you busy?
I'm reading.
- Do you feel like doing something? - Like what?
We could go out for a drink or see a movie, or just stay in.
You do everything too fast, Albert. It's a shame.
Hasn't anyone ever told you?
Never?
No, why?
It's like you want to get it over with.
Don't you like sex?
- Yes, I do. - So make it last!
You're as quick as a flash...
- Bedbugs! - Who cares? Listen!
- Am I hurting your feelings? - No, not at all.
Timid types are all the same.
If we don't cry for joy, they panic and - whoops, it's over!
But Albert, I can't do that. It's my job, you see.
Did you ever see a factory worker cry for joy? It's the same for me.
When you feel like you can't last, think about something else.
Have you ever tried that?
- Like what? - Something nice which takes time.
Imagine you're in a restaurant.
Think about it. What do you do in a restaurant?
- I sit down. - Exactly, you sit down.
You sit down and you look at the menu.
The starters, main courses, desserts...
Come back to the starters.
Ask for a little explanation... hesitate.
When the food arrives, don't wolf it down.
Savour it, eat it slowly...
and then, then, then, you come back for more.
"With his day job at Mr Jo's,
"night school with Odette and the Captain's tuition, Valentin... "
Valentin, that's what Dionnet calls Dehousse in his novel.
"Valentin came on in leaps and bounds.
"He thought about his home town less and less. "
Savour it!
I am!
Good! Now think about dessert. Are you thinking about it?
You've got it made! Nice little job, nice little woman...
You asked for nothing and got it all. Success!
You've still got straw for brains but something tells me...
Listen carefully, you won't understand all of this now,
maybe you never will.
Are you listening?
Great times like this happen only once in a century.
Losers posing as winners, cowards as heroes, devils as saints.
With talent and imagination, the sky's the limit.
You bet I have!
Magic, Albert. Magic!
"What's the matter, Beast?"
"Nothing, Beauty. Nothing. "
Let go! You're hurting me!
I'm a friend of General de Gaulle!
You're hurting me, idiot!
- Bastards... - Put him in here.
- Have you seen the Captain? - No, but he left this for you.
"Itchy feet, stop. Need air, stop.
"PS. His name's Marlon.
"Age 20, from Virginia. As handsome as a tank.
"I'm discovering jazz and the beauty of the winning army. "
"Ah, Albert! Love! Love!"
What will you have?
What is there?
Tripe and potatoes.
Tripe it is.
"I'm discovering jazz and the beauty of the winning army.
"Ah, Albert!"
Soubeyran! Aren't you coming in?
Sorry, I thought you were someone else.
- Where's home? - Near the Army School.
- For the Ministry? - Yes, it's handy.
- Have you got an invitation? - No.
- Are you on the list? - I must be in the wrong place.
What's going on?
A Resistance veterans' reunion.
Thank you.
Nervoix!
- Henri! - Bauchamps!
Good old Bauchamps!
Good to see you!
- Where's Auberly? - He couldn't make it.
"Henri Nervoix, the voice of London. "
Dehousse! Albert!
Good old Nervoix! How have you been all this time?
I've got so much to tell you.
It's me. Let's go out.
I'm working.
150 for food, 300 for rent, 100 for newspapers.
Enough for three months. Then I'll see.
Shit!
The advertisement that Albert saw
said, "Near Army School. Single room to let. Reasonable rent. "
Will it do?
300 francs a month. Two months' deposit.
Rent on the 10th of the month.
- Who else lives here? - People of quality.
Civil servants, retired teachers, a Navy widow...
The previous tenant left those books. I'll take them if you want.
No, thank you.
Where do you live, Mr Dehousse? Near the Army School. It's handy.
The lieutenant's papers, please.
Here you are, dear.
- Goodbye. - See you tomorrow.
The same ones, please.
France Libre, Combat, Résistance and Franc-Tireur.
1943. The fight against the Resistance intensifies.
Pierre Brossolette throws himself from a fifth floor window,
22nd March, 1944.
The French based in London are in two groups -
those in America and those who plan to go there.
Georges Mandel, deported to Germany to be executed,
was killed on 7th July, 1944.
Auberley, Mopez, Nervoix, Morvan.
Louis Vaquier.
Deputy Director of the Museum of Mankind...
Anti-Fascist League...
One by one,
those who collaborated with the enemy answer for their crimes,
while we await the trial of Pétain, leader of them all.
Today, the Supreme Court passed the death sentence on General Dentz,
the Vichy Governor of Syria and Lebanon,
for turning French guns on the Anglo-French forces.
This was taken at the trial of Debocq
and this at the trial of Ballurin,
the Vichy minister.
Both trials were held in early 1945,
only days apart.
Albert Dehousse attended Debocq's trial.
There he is at the back.
He also attended Ballurin's trial, but this time he's at the front.
His strategy of infiltration.
Stand back!
I have no comment before the verdict.
I have faith in French justice.
You dropped this.
It's not mine.
Come in.
Today is the 20th.
Already?
You're a week late. Pay the rent tomorrow or else!
It's cold in here. Don't you light the fire?
It's too expensive.
Tomorrow without fail, all right?
Without fail.
There was something delicious in the air that morning.
The cool breeze, the sounds of the city,
the smell of morning coffee
and the Louvier family.
They watched me with beady eyes like the pigeons in the street.
I had money.
I could pay the rent, but somehow it seemed too easy.
That morning I resolved to use the Louviers as guinea pigs.
Hello, Mrs Louvier. Any post?
Yes, a final demand for your rent.
It's the 23rd. You're over a week late.
- I know. I'm waiting for my pension. - What pension?
From the Ministry.
- What's up? - My Ministry pension hasn't arrived.
The officials are sitting pretty. They're in no hurry.
I'll say they're not!
Your rent's still overdue.
Are you still here? Get going!
Wait a second, lad. Can you do me a favour?
Get my papers. Keep the change.
Which papers, sir?
Just ask for the lieutenant's papers.
Lieutenant? Why didn't you say so?
Corporal Louvier. Verdun. Three times mentioned in dispatches.
At ease.
- What about the rent? - We'll discuss it.
I said we'll discuss it later!
You still don't heat your room?
I've got a ton of coal in the cellar. It's yours.
No, Louvier. Thank you, but no.
- Come on, between soldiers! - I said no and I mean it.
On 24th March, Albert read in the Franc-Tireur...
..."Servier network veterans' reunion at 4:30pm,
"in the Red Room of the Hotel Lutetia.
"By invitation only. "
- You're inefficient, miss. - Pardon?
I said you're inefficient, miss.
Where was I just now?
- The Red Room? - Yes.
I walked right in with my friends. You didn't check my invitation.
- What's your job? - To ask for invitations.
I see.
It's lucky you didn't ask for mine.
- Do you know why? - No.
Because I wasn't sent one. So you're doubly inefficient.
Please make sure my name is listed. Dehousse, Albert. Under "D".
Between Debard and Denoy...
Stop! In ink, please.
This must not happen again.
Dehousse. D-E-H-O-U-S-S-E.
Slow down, please.
- A cigarette? - No, only English ones.
An acquired taste.
No, only English ones. An acquired taste.
How do you do? Albert Dehousse.
Only English ones. An acquired taste.
Dehousse. How do you do?
Only English ones. An acquired taste.
De Gaulle stepped out of the BBC into the history books.
Change at Euston...
They invented rugby.
Military action committee...
Smile. You're on camera!
The lieutenant! Wake up, Dad!
It's the lieutenant!
Shit!
Our reunions are pretty uneventful.
It's just nice to meet again and talk about old times.
Oh, yes. Sometimes things happen.
The other day we were chatting away when suddenly... Dead silence.
You could hear a pin drop.
I looked around...
It was De Gaulle. As large as life!
Don't forget your washing.
I've turned the cuffs and collars
but those trousers won't last long without a patch.
- Would you? - Sure, and I've got your post.
You have enough post for a minister! What are they all?
Invitations, paperwork...
Did you ask him about Etienne?
Etienne? The lieutenant has better things to do.
- What's the problem? - His school work.
He's a lazy bastard. She thought perhaps you could help.
I'm afraid I missed out on school.
In 1940, we had two options - a soft life at school or...
Well, need I say more?
- Listen to him! - But if I can help...
Speaking of help, about this month's rent...
Don't worry, sir. Leave it to me.
Here, have the head. It's the best part.
If the landlords kick up a fuss,
I'll remind them of the Rozinskys, eh?
The Rozinskys were Yids... I mean Jews.
They threw them out in 1942.
What does De Gaulle say about communists?
I'm not in his inner circle.
Could I please have a leg?
"... Indifferent to dreams of yore,
"harks, unstirring in the depths of nights serene... "
- Have you got that? - Yes.
"... in the depths of nights serene, the mournful sea. "
- Have you started English? - This year, sir.
"Voler"?
Fly, flew, flown.
"Voler"?
I know... Don't tell me.
Take, rob... steal...
How are you?
I knew you would be here.
Hello, Henri.
Hello, Henri!
Please don't pretend. It's embarrassing.
You don't recognise me, do you?
Of course I do, but...
I can see you don't. I had a beard, but still!
You don't.
Chez Roger?
The restaurant in Soho?
Tripe on Tuesdays? Set menu?
Little red-haired waitress?
It's coming back to me.
Dehousse!
Albert Dehousse.
- Sorry, old man. - How are you?
- Fine, and you? - Fine.
Our friend Dehousse. From London. Remember?
Good to see you again after all this time.
Remember the tripe?
Thus, on 16th May, 1945, nine months after the Liberation
and two weeks ahead of his plan, Albert joined the French Resistance.
At the same time,
he joined the small group of Nervoix's friends
who dined together,
at the Petit Versailles on Boulevard Magenta.
Excuse me.
Your name...
It rings a bell.
My name?
Don't you have family up north?
I'm sure I met some Dehousses up north.
Somewhere near Cateau-Cambresis...
...or Hazebrouck?
No, I have no family there.
Or was it a file on my desk at Lille Town Hall?
You worked at Lille Town Hall?
Yes, before the war.
Oh, that's it. An application for a war widow's pension.
Don't try to remember it. "Dehousse" is a pseudonym.
I opened the phone book at "D" and picked "Dehousse".
You know how it is at times like that.
My real name's Rozinsky.
My grandfather, a Polish Jew...
Good God. I'm sorry.
- Don't worry. - Forgive me.
Forget it.
- How do we pay? - It's on me.
Please, I insist.
If he were in London,
I would have met him.
Even if I didn't, it's easy to verify.
There weren't many of us.
I met him in London
in late 1942 or early 1943.
He worked in broadcasting with Nervoix.
We didn't stay in touch.
I heard he was parachuted into France.
I think he invented the expression,
"There are those who discuss the war
"and those who fought it. "
Not bad, eh?
Where do you live, Dehousse?
Near the Army School.
- It's handy. - Of course.
Remember that clerk at Seymour Place?
"Double-spacing for the General"?
Theeten.
- Thank you! - Good night.
Lieutenant!
It's for you!
Look! They've sent for you!
It's the Ministry.
- What ministry? - The Ministry!
They've sent a car for you.
- Mr Dehousse? - Yes.
A summons for you.
Can I pack a bag?
You won't need it.
Come quick! Bring Etienne!
Wait there.
You meet in a restaurant, the Petit Versailles?
I go there sometimes.
It's decent. The food, I mean.
I've heard a lot about you.
My friend De Vaincourt spoke of you recently.
Do you know him?
He likes you. Others do, too.
You're popular in Resistance circles.
I can explain.
Discretion is good.
Let's get to the facts. I have three names here.
The Provisional Government needs men for high positions.
Reliable men, of course.
I need to have your opinion.
Is that why you sent for me?
It's not like informing on someone. It's for the good of the country.
I give you my word nobody else will ever know.
- May I? - Go ahead, please.
Wheiler.
Royer.
Ronsin.
I didn't catch the last two.
Pierre-Andr?Royer?
A very good man. Very able.
But he's a little too close to Mr Jo, perhaps.
I don't mind scrap merchants but others might.
Thank you. You've confirmed our suspicions.
Sorry. Cigarette?
Only acquired ones. English taste.
Only English ones.
What about him?
- Excellent. - Political?
- Nervoix recommends him. - Isn't Nervoix political?
Yes, but Dehousse isn't.
He's not with any group.
If Nervoix recommends someone who's not in his clique,
he must have quite a record.
Not a communist, not a Gaullist... He must have one flaw!
Is he queer? A morphine addict? An actor?
They started by asking his opinion and picking his brains.
He was an expert on Resistance groups.
He knew each member's politics, the internal rivalries, and so on.
It wasn't always a bed of roses!
The anti-Gaullists traded on every disagreement, every dirty trick.
So Dehousse went through the newspapers
and reported everything that might be seized on as a weakness.
How did he end up at the Ministry?
Eventually, the department head, Major Ballin, gave him an office.
- An office? - Here at the Ministry.
All right.
Naturally, within our means, we'll pay you for your time.
Money?
You're joking. It's enough to be working for the cause.
But I'd like an office on the courtyard.
The street side is awfully noisy.
Come to dinner on Thursday. General Boquillon will be there.
I won't name the station, but it was in the occupied zone.
It was as cold as ice. It was bitterly cold.
It was very cold. One of those bad winters.
I'm at the station. No train in sight. They're coming.
I'm stuck there with the suitcase.
What was in it?
Explosives. It's stuffed with explosives.
They'll never believe me.
Let me introduce you.
Captain Malbert...
My cousin, Servane de Lheminiére...
General Boquillon has been delayed. We won't wait for him.
He'll join us for coffee.
What's your story, Dehousse?
When did you first go underground?
I think he prefers not to talk about it.
Aren't we too young to play at being war veterans?
No, Mr Dehousse. You won't get off so lightly. Tell us.
There must have been a crucial day, a turning point.
Actually, it was an evening.
On a station platform.
You're going to be disappointed!
Anyway...
I can't name the station for obvious reasons.
It was in the occupied zone.
Bitterly cold. One of those bad winters.
We had our share of those.
There I was on the platform with my suitcase...
What was in it?
I'll let you guess.
In the trade we called it "household linen," or "babywear".
So I was waiting...
...no sign of the train, these people coming,
when suddenly, out of the blue, this huge locomotive appears...
So there you have my story.
Not too disappointed?
Can I ask you a question?
Do you ever make the first move?
I beg your pardon?
You looked at me all evening. I smiled and you smiled back.
Don't a man and a woman who are strangers
smile like that for a reason?
It didn't occur to me.
I thought you were with...
So? I don't have to tell him that we're going to bed.
Which excuse do you think he'd prefer?
I have a headache or I'm tired?
A headache, I think.
Dehousse, there you are.
- General Boquillon's here. Come on. - Now?
I know it's late.
General de Lattre is to be recalled and replaced by General Koenig.
He needs someone
to run the intelligence and propaganda service,
somebody reliable and beyond reproach.
I gather that you're not part of any group.
You're discreet and efficient.
The High Command has chosen you.
- Me? - Yes, you.
Civilians serving in Germany rank as army personnel.
You will wear an officer's uniform.
What rank?
Lieutenant Colonel.
Germans don't understand anything lower.
This is it.
GERMANY 1945
"Disillusioned with love and jazz,
"which was only African music in disguise,
"the Captain returned to his roots - Mozart and the French army.
"One day in the summer of 1945,
"while travelling back to France, he thought he was having a vision. "
Magic, Albert! Magic.
Apart from his sales route on his bike,
and his train ride to Paris,
Albert had never travelled.
Now he was travelling, in uniform, amid the ruins of war.
Not a picture-book war, but a real one with real armies, real ruins,
a real defeat, real corpses.
He couldn't help being thrilled.
Faster, faster!
Look at them. The master race!
To Albert's delight,
it was all there -
tree-lined streets, rococo architecture
and thermal waters.
But his guide book omitted the main thing -
the French occupation.
Roughly, what this meant was,
"They occupied us for four years. Now it's our turn. "
Welcome, Colonel. My name is Ernst.
At your service.
This is mine, all mine.
Do you need the car, sir?
No, thank you. Dismissed.
Attention!
At ease, gentlemen.
Major Leguen, acting unit commander.
His face didn't fit.
Didn't fit? In what way?
All the rest of us
had served in Syria, Africa, Italy...
Meyer had flown bombers from England,
Boutin had been at Narvik in 1939.
We didn't know anything about him. He just turned up.
We were idle and wanted to remain so.
He was a fly in the ointment.
What did your work consist of?
Psychological Operations, of all things!
Meaning what?
Some propaganda,
but mostly flushing out collaborators who had fled to Germany
and were posing as former POWs or work camp inmates.
Check again.
Always double-check every detail.
Would you like a game, sir?
I haven't played for so long...
Come on, sir. Just for fun.
I don't have the right shoes.
I'll lend you mine!
40-love.
No need to score.
I like to.
That was out!
I thought it was in.
Have you had enough, sir?
It's OK.
I'm sorry.
I'm giving you a poor game. I miss every shot.
I know someone who didn't!
Sorry. That was stupid.
What did he say?
He's playing with a bullet in his chest.
Poor fellow!
Where did Dehousse serve in the war?
Not in the 1st Free French, for sure.
And a bullet in the chest doesn't make you wince like that.
I know because I had one.
Stop being so hard on Dehousse, will you?
If you like being tricked, go ahead.
- Do you have an opinion? - About what?
About me.
I'm a soldier.
Soldiers don't think.
When this is over, maybe, but now I go by the book.
Who lives here?
The General's wife.
She has a party every Thursday from 5:00pm.
- The most famous in Baden-Baden. - Famous for what?
Port, music and women, all guaranteed clean.
The best food too, for the lucky ones who stay to dinner.
Are you coming in?
I haven't been invited.
Besides, I have work to do.
See you tomorrow, sir.
Yes, Meyer.
Like the feet of a skater on the ice!
Head up... waist supple...
You learn very fast.
May I have the pleasure, miss?
Lesson number one. Invitation to waltz.
Don't hold her too tight.
- Isn't this a bit silly? - We must suffer to be beautiful!
Are you releasing them?
We found nothing.
- I'll interrogate them. - It's pointless!
What?
Their statements match. Two years in work camp.
- They're clean. - I'll question them anyway.
Suit yourself... you bloody fool.
Was there something else?
- No. - Thank you.
I don't understand. Their story was rock solid!
Too solid.
What do you mean?
They can read. Can you?
Read this. It's all here.
Places, names... They recited it for three hours.
Even the story about the boy who taught piano.
So?
They simply memorised it all.
Any idiot can do that.
They weren't in any work camp.
If they were in Würzburg, then I was in Lourdes!
Do you have a light?
Oh, yes. Sorry.
So, is it true what I hear about you?
What is that, madam?
Uncovering that militia network!
It was hardly a network.
Just a few petty crooks. Small fry.
Without Major Leguen's help I'd have been fooled.
Evening, Boutin.
I would like to...
I can't say how much...
- What you just said... - If you can't say it, don't.
Congratulations, sir.
Nice work on Leguen. I mean it.
You were good. But it won't work on me.
I'm the original rotten bastard.
Did you say something, Boutin?
Good evening, Boutin.
She's had a dozen lovers here in Baden.
Tempestuous affairs for them, at least,
judging by the state she left them in.
They say a general's wife had a crush on her.
A bit lesbian, the Military Cross...
She's perfect!
The best thing since mustard gas. It makes you think...
Meyer, you know soldiers never think.
True. Sorry, sir.
You took your time.
To do what?
To say hello to me.
- In Paris you weren't in uniform. - Of course I was.
You must have been distracted.
Since I arrived here,
your accomplishments are the talk of the town.
- I've heard a lot about you, too. - People exaggerate.
Do you really have to?
What?
"Oom-pah-pah". There's already a band.
Oh, yes. Sorry.
I didn't realise.
Shall I drive?
Drive?
The dance.
Please do.
You're right, it's better.
What do you do here?
I drive... cars. I drive officers around.
Officers love being driven by women.
It's long and boring and I don't give a damn about it.
You know, Albert...
...we haven't got a million choices.
You and I can see only two.
We can go on discussing trivia
and say good night before we know what's happened,
or we can pick up where we left off in Paris.
- Remember? - I do.
But we must do it properly.
- Do you agree? - I agree.
What should I do?
What you should have done that night.
Gently...
Through August and September, 1945,
the Psychological Operations Unit was so successful
that the Paris High Command congratulated its leader and staff.
Colonel Dehousse had been a good choice!
His style set a precedent.
Soon, people started talking about the "Dehousse manner".
If you can't say it, don't.
Sir?
Weren't you hit in the chest?
Yes. So what?
I can't see your scar.
Couldn't it have entered through my armpit?
You want me to raise my arms?
I've never done that in my life. I'm not starting now.
Why do some people have it all and others, nothing?
I have to work for everything, including women.
It's so unfair.
I'm going to die in 1953 in Indo-China,
ambushed at Col des Nuages.
I've never had any luck.
They slipped through the net, unseen by anyone.
When they came back two weeks later, they had vanished.
That's what happened. So I heard.
- Have you heard from him since? - Never.
Are you all right?
Do you want to go home?
Albert, do you like being with me?
Why do you ask?
Because... you never say so.
- I do sometimes. - Never.
Shall I say it now?
I like being with you. All right?
I like being with you.
So do I.
So that's good.
I want it to go on, but I feel one of us is doing it wrongly.
Which one?
See what I mean?
Some things can always be learned -
education, good manners, useful facts,
what to say, what not to say.
Then there's the rest.
What it feels like to be burned, to be hurt,
to fall in love with a woman,
especially when you can't confide in the woman you love
because your whole life is a lie.
It's complicated.
My father was a Pétainist.
He had a way with words.
One day he announced to us all,
"The people who join de Gaulle are the ones who fail their exams. "
He should have kept quiet.
I left school and joined the Free French in Algiers.
Does that tickle?
Tell me, little Albert... where's your scar?
You have a bullet wound. Don't you?
No.
All those other stories about you - about the Resistance, London...
Did any of it happen?
Is it all untrue?
Yes, it's all untrue.
How long have you known?
Since the beginning, I think.
Why didn't you say so?
I liked it.
I never asked for anything.
It just came.
I never stole anything.
I'm not a thief.
I worked hard to catch up.
"Speak, spoke, spoken. "
Tottenham Court Road, change at Leicester Square,
Piccadilly Circus...
General knowledge, Latin quotations...
"Credo quia absurdum... "
What do they do to impostors like me?
12 bullets.
12, minus one for the coup de grâce.
Then it's all over. Lights out.
My son.
He's young like you.
- "The red badge of courage. " - Your son Adolf?
Rudolph.
What's all this?
Your crappy life?
Is this your wife? Mother?
I have one, too.
This is shit.
Shit!
Anybody there? Is anyone there?
Colonel, it's for you.
Wake up.
Meyer?
We have a problem, sir.
Do you need me?
You'd better come.
It's better if you come with me.
We received a complaint this morning about some stolen geese.
I thought maybe our boys did it.
I asked for specifics.
The guy went on about "mit deutschen Soldatenmantel" -
German soldiers.
I got a full description from the farmer.
Sounds like they're SS.
Lieutenant Delavelle, sir.
- Where from? - Dordogne.
Shit.
What's this?
Charlemagne Division, sir. Volunteered 27 th June, 1944.
630th German Army regiment.
How many of you?
Seven, sir.
What the hell do we do?
Can I talk to you, sir?
What will you do with us?
I'll send you to France.
What will they do?
Put us on trial?
Will we be shot?
I don't want to go to France.
How about them?
They don't.
What do we do?
I am Lieutenant Colonel Dehousse.
You chose to join the German Army. You know the consequences.
For the sake of your families and France's honour,
to avoid a public trial I'm going to have you shot.
Your families will be told that you died in action.
Attention!
Form a firing squad.
- Take aim. - Vive la France!
"I, Albert Dehousse, confess that I never belonged
"to any Resistance movement at home or abroad.
"I obtained my rank by false pretences.
"I am a coward and an impostor.
"I give myself up to the law. "
Where were you?
Everything all right?
Lt Colonel Dehousse's life was over. Another life began.
The Army, the Ministry and Resistance associations
agreed not to add scandal to ridicule.
The case was handled very quietly.
Servane visited Albert every day. One day he got a surprise.
Yvette had finally tracked him down.
When she came to Paris to witness the trial,
she naturally stayed with Servane.
Their budding friendship intrigued Albert.
He had some questions on his mind
but he remembered Servane telling him
"You're like a child, Albert. Everything amazes you. "
He kept his questions to himself.
I don't understand. Weren't you sentenced?
Yes, for bigamy.
For bigamy?
I married Servane in Baden-Baden in 1946.
As I hadn't divorced Yvette, they threw the book at me.
Three years.
Feel this light. This warmth.
I've always loved it.
That's what we should keep inventing.
When Death comes, we'll lie to it.
We'll say it's too early. It's got the wrong guy.
You know what?
We'll give it the address of some evil bastard.
That's what.
In the end, only real human beings will be left.
Good people like you and me.
What do you think? Was it good?
Did I look natural?
I met Albert Dehousse in 1961
when he became Minister for Planning.
He would have preferred the Arts but the job was already taken.
Mr Albert Dehousse did great work
for African independence.
...a nursing home racket in Nice.
A property swindle,
unlicensed medical practice.
I am convinced that Dehousse was a Soviet agent.