congratulated.
- I'm notjoking!
Come on, dear, what is it with you?
Can't you see? We're either officers
serving our Czar and Fatherland,
rejoicing over our common success
or mourning our common failure,
or we're lackeys who don't give
a damn about the master's affairs.
Forty thousand people have died,
our ally's army has been destroyed,
and you are able to joke about it.
Only silly kids can amuse
themselves in this way.
Isn't it charming how the Gascons
show what they're made of? Well?
Three of them go
and seize a bridge.
The French cross the bridge and
their army gets across the Danube.
But if the French have crossed
the Thabor Bridge,
that means Kutuzov's army is
cut off, it is doomed!
That's what it looks like.
Wait, I have some plans for you
for this evening.
She is delightful, isn't she?
Happy is the man
who will possess her.
With her, the most unworldly
husband would automatically take
a prominent position in society,
don't you think so?
- I wanted to know your opinion.
- Yes, yes, she's beautiful.
Well, goodbye, Prince.
And God protect you.
May your great endeavor succeed.
You have my blessing.
Get in with me.
Permit me to stay in
General Bagration's detachment.
Get in. I also need good officers
on my staff.
I also need them.
There's still much to be done.
Much to be gone through.
Should just one tenth of Bagration's
soldiers return tomorrow,
I'll be grateful to Almighty God.
That's why I'd like to be assigned
to this detachment.
With 4,000 exhausted men,
Bagration had been entrusted
to delay the entire enemy army
for twenty-four hours.
This respite was
indispensable to Kutuzov
in order for him to get his
transport-burdened army
out of reach of the French troops,
outnumbering his own three to one.
Gentlemen, what does this mean?
You can't leave your posts!
Take you, Captain.
You should be ashamed of
yourself, Captain Tushin.
An officer should set a good
example, and where're your boots?
If the alarm were sounded,
you'd be in your stocking feet!
Wouldn't that be a pretty sight?
So return to your posts,
gentlemen.
The soldiers say you go faster
without boots on.
Will you return to your posts?
It was getting closer and closer,
that special moment,
for which so much work had been
done and so much hardship endured,
for which soldiers had been drilled
for fifteen years,
homes and families left,
and a peasant turned
into a warrior,
for which 80,000 men lived in the
field, without wives and children,
without participation
in the affairs of civil life,
moving through
a strange, unknown country.
They lived in the fields,
on the roads, in the woods,
neglecting all the amenities
of a habitual human life.
For all those men, a road was
not the way to their family,
pleasures or work,
but a way of bypassing or attacking,
a house was not the hearth and home,
but the ambush position,
people were not their brothers,
but the tools
and the necessary victims of death.
No, my friend,
if a man could know
what would be after his death,
none of us would fear death.
That's how it is, my friend.
Fear it or not,
you won't escape it.
But you fear it anyway...
There, you smart people.
You artillerymen are so smart
because you can take everything
with you, both vodka and snacks.
And still you fear.
Uncertainty, that's what one fears
most.
Though they say that your soul
will go to Heaven...
We know there's no Heaven,
it's all just the atmosphere.
Come on, give us a taste of
your herbal vodka, Tushin.
With my pleasure.
And yet, to fathom your future
life...
It has begun! Here it is!
It has begun! The battle!
It's terrible, but glorious!
It has begun! That's it!
It has begun! That's it!
Two points up should do it.
Load, Medvedev!
Schoengraben is burning!
Please, Your Highness,
come away from here.
Please, Your Highness!
For God's sake!
Can't you see what's happening?
The French!
Fine looking soldiers.
Left, left...