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While we wait for it to strike
the heroic hour of battle,
let's sing and drink, ''short and sweet''!
Let's sing and drink, ''short and sweet''!
That's the soldier's motto.
Let's sing and drink,
have fun and dance!
While we wait for it to strike
the heroic hour of battle,
let's sing and drink, ''short and sweet''!
That's the soldier's motto.
Let's sing and dance!
Oh, my Fritz,
how sad you make me
by telling me you are leaving.
Oh, go on ; I'll do miracles
to get back
without delay.
Come on, girls, dance and whirl,
with your families you'll be staying ;
but we, poor men, will soon be going
for measly pay to brave the cannon!
If there's no escaping a sorry fate,
let's make the most of the time we have left.
Let's empty our glass
like brave warriors,
and it's just too bad, my dear, if it's our last.
O pretty girls, O brave lads,
let's whirl and waltz, waltz and whirl!
Let's waltz, let's waltz!
Let's whirl and waltz, waltz and whirl
like tops, like spinning dice!
Let's whirl and waltz
like tops, like spinning dice!
As we take up our arms and get on our way,
what cries, what tears and what swooning!
Have no fear, my lovelies, we shall write to you,
and give you our news.
Your hearts, I'm sure, will remain constant,
despite our absence; but in the meantime
let's empty our glasses and steal a kiss,
and it's just too bad, my dear, if it's our last!
O pretty girls, O brave lads,
let's whirl and waltz, waltz and whirl!
Let's whirl and waltz, waltz and whirl
like tops, like spinning dice!
Let's whirl and waltz like tops, like spinning dice!
Women in our camp?
What frightful effrontery!
Great! Here comes the spoilsport!
Men, have you lost
your senses?
If we are soldiers, must we be heartless?
You there, you, still talking. . .
But General. . .
Silence, silence!
When I'm angry you'd better be quiet,
for you know how severe I am!
When he's angry you'd better be quiet,
for you know how severe he is!
A stickler for discipline,
through valleys I ride straight ahead ; I wipe out whole battalions!
The boldest enemy hides, trembling like a coward,
when he sees the plume I'm wearing up on top, yes!
With pif, paf, pouf, and tara papa poum! That's me, General Boum Boum!
With pif, paf, pouf, and tara papa poum! That's him, General Boum Boum!
In drawing rooms after the war,
there I am once more,
and to please me the prettiest lady goes out of her way.
She strokes my moustache, and smiles. . .
At such a time my plume gets in the way, yes!
With pif, paf, pouf,
and tara papa poum!
That's me, General Boum Boum!
With pif, paf, pouf, and tara papa poum!
That's him, General Boum Boum!
Long live General Boum!
Long live me! Hurrah!
And glory to the Grand Duchess's soldiers!
- Long live the Grand Duchess! - Cheers!
Infantryman Fritz, forward!
Here we go! That's me!
- General! - You are a poor soldier!
- But General. . . - Quiet!
- But. . . - When I'm angry, you shut up!
Have you been courting Wanda again?
- But of course not! - And has she turned you down, Wanda?
They've such bad taste, women ; they prefer young foot soldiers
- to old commanders. - I'll stick you in the dungeons.
- That won't change a thing. - Oh, fury!
- General! - The enemy! It must be! ! !
- Where are they? - Nowhere, General!
Get ready. Her Highness the Grand Duchess
will be coming to review her regiment.
You hear that, soldiers?
Infantryman Fritz, stand over there.
You will mount guard.
And what am I guarding? The land?
You are guarding the sacred place which the Duchess will be honouring!
- All right? - But it's right out in the sun!
Soldiers! Slope arms! By the left! Forward! March!
With pif, paf, pouf, and tara papa poum! That's him, General Boum Boum!
But where are you going?
That's none of your business!
Soldiers! By the left! March!
Ugh! What a rotten soldier!
Ah, how unfair to make faces
at a poor soldier who can't move.
And all because of a woman. . .
Here I am! Here I am!
Fritz, I've run so much that I swear I'm out of breath!
But since I see you looking so cross,
it wasn't worth the effort.
Tell me why. Why?
Why?
What's the meaning of this scowling?
I come running and here you are, all frosty!
Are you dumb, my fine grenadier?
Can you only love me in sign language?
It must be so, for my orders,
yes, my orders, alas and alack, forbid me to speak.
Stop this fooling!
When someone sees his girlfriend,
sir, he should forget all else.
Quick, a word, or I'll scratch you. . .
I cannot, for my orders,
yes, my orders, alas and alack, forbid me to move. . .
How is it that when I beckon you with a look
which says: ''Come here near your girl and kneel down for a while,''
ah, you tell me ''No''?
Yes, my orders forbid me to move, alas!
- What, you tell me ''No''? Alas! - Indeed, I tell you ''No''. Alas!
And if, madly in love with you, I said : ''Come, you great silly,''
''quickly, come here and give me a kiss,''
- would you still insult me so gravely? - Ah, indeed not,
for my orders don't forbid me to kiss.
I was sure your orders didn't forbid you to kiss.
To the devil with orders!
To the devil with orders,
and here's to love!
Never mind, we'll defy orders
and obey the call of love!
To the devil with orders,
and here's to love!
To my mind, once you've started,
to my mind you have to carry on. . .
One kiss is quite enough, I think,
but two, that might get too serious.
- Just a little one. . . - No, behave yourself!
- Just one. . . - No, no!
- One kiss. . . - What about orders?
Only one kiss. . .
No, orders forbid me to kiss you.
Ah, stop pushing me away. Come and kiss me.
- What about orders? - Wanda. . .
One kiss. . .
To the devil with orders,
and here's to love!
Never mind, we'll defy orders and obey the call of love!
- Ah, got you! - Ah, my Fritz!
That fine troop movement was done just to catch you out.
- General! - And I've caught you. . .
- What's that? - An attack!
It's the enemy! Inflate the zeppelins!
- Ah, Boum! - What has happened to you?
They asked for the password ; being preoccupied as I am
with affairs of high politics,
- I didn't reply, so. . . - Pif, paf, pouf.
- They fired. - It was their duty. - They missed me.
- They will be punished. - What!
You would rather they had. . .?
As a general, certainly. . . not as a friend.
Right, thanks, just as well.
Listen. . .
I wanted to say. . . You know. . .
Just before they leave for war
we usually do something to rouse the soldiers.
Unfortunately!
We've thought of something. . . er. . .
- brief. . . The Grand Duchess will come. - I know.
When she's among the soldiers, you will ask her
- if we may have the regimental song sung. - And then?
Her Highness will reply : ''But I know that song myself,''
and she will sing it.
- Herself? - To encourage the soldiers.
And she'll be singing it. . . with you.
With me? What a horr. . . What an honour! Does she know about it?
We worked on it for two hours this morning.
- Oh, well, agreed then. - Right.
Now, to business.
You know why we are going to war?
- Not the least idea. - Oh, come on!
The Grand Duchess, as you know, is no spring chicken.
Until now, she has left power in our hands,
but I've noticed that for some time
she's been glum, anxious, peevish.
I decided I had to find something to amuse her.
So I declared war. . .
and here we are!
Ah, what a good idea!
I've always found it so. But let's not rely on the past.
Since something else was required. . .
- I looked for a husband for her. - Yes, Prince Paul.
But the prince didn't have any effect. . .
The Grand Duchess doesn't want to marry him. She's dragging her feet.
Eight days ago Prince Paul's father
sent Baron Grog here to get a decision out of her.
Only the princess won't receive him,
she's getting more depressed, she's smoking!
- Let's hope the war will amuse her. - Trust me.
Unfortunately, that diversion will only work for a while.
Fighting, destruction, that's all very well,
but she's going to want other pleasures.
Her heart has not yet spoken,
but it will speak, and then, woe for us!
- You're frightening me. - Good!
Have you thought: what if the princess suddenly wanted a favourite?
We'd be done for.
She mustn't have one! She mustn't. The enemy!
- Is it the enemy? - Of course not, General, it's Her Highness.
Line up the troops!
- Bring out the tanks! - And power to the two of us!
To the two of us!
Slope arms!
Present arms!
Slope arms! Steady, stand up straight, eyes forward!
You revel in danger,
perils appeal to you
and you will do your duty.
You will leave tomorrow,
and I have come to say,
not goodbye, not goodbye
but au revoir!
Ah, how I love soldiers,
with their flattering uniforms, their moustaches and their plumes!
Ah, how I love soldiers,
with their masterful air, their soldiers' ways, I like everything about them.
When I see my soldiers there, ready to leave for war,
stock-still, upright, staring straight ahead, good God, how proud I am of them!
Will they be conquerors or be defeated?
I've no idea ; all I know is. . .
All she knows is. . .
Ah, how I love soldiers!
Yes, I love soldiers!
I know what I would like:
I'd like to be a camp follower,
then I'd always be near them
and I'd give them a nip.
Just like them, valiant and debonair,
I'd throw myself into the battle!
Would I like it, war?
I've no idea ; all I know is. . .
- All she knows. . . - Ah, how I love soldiers!
With their masterful air, their soldiers' ways, I like everything about them.
Ah, how I love soldiers!
With their masterful air, their soldiers' ways, I like everything about them.
Long live the Grand Duchess!
Superb! Ah, marvellous!
- Ah, I'm content, General! - Highness. . .
Long live the Grand Duchess!
General, a moment. Ask that soldier to step forward.
No, not that one.
Not him. The other one. . .
There. . . there!
Private Second Class Fritz, forward!
Well then. . . and your name is?
- Fritz. - Fritz, very nice.
Your battles, your wounds?
- Zero battles, zero wounds. - Bravo!
You are promoted to corporal.
Shiver me timbers!
- Where are you going? - To tell Wanda I'm a corporal.
Right, you can tell her you're a sergeant, then.
Have them fall out, General.
Fall out
- and get out. - Get out! Why?
These are my children, my soldiers!
Did you notice how Her Highness
looked at that man?
- I wouldn't have thought. . . - You can think what you like!
You there, just come over here.
- Highness. . . - You see! - Yes, I see!
You. . . Are you. . .
- Are you happy? - You know how it is, Highness -
you're happy and you're not. . .
- Did I tell you you were a lieutenant? - No, Highness.
- I'm telling you now. - Thank you. . .
It's warm here. I'm thirsty.
I'll send for some sorbets.
Eh? Sorbets! I want to drink what my soldiers drink.
- But they drink. . . - I want a glass, filled right up.
I drink to your victory, soldiers. I drink to your return.
Long live the Grand Duchess.
Oops!
- Isn't it time for the song? - Yes, I think so.
Would you like, Highness. . . Would it please Your Highness
to hear the regimental song?
Ah, yes! But General, I know that song!
- Highness! - I shall sing it myself.
O Highness! What a joy!
- Begin! - Yes.
Come, you, you'll sing with me.
You can't think of it. A lieutenant, singing. . .
So I'll make him a captain, will that do?
Come here, Captain, and sing.
Ah, it's a famous regiment, the Grand Duchess's regiment.
When the enemy gets frisky
you should see how quickly we take cover!
It's true the hussars are good fellows, and it's a good outfit.
With his horsetail down his back, the dragoon's well turned out.
We know that the Artillery Corps
only takes men of valour.
But despite all that, there's none so fine as this great regiment here.
- Ah, zooks! - Ah, zounds!
So sound the trumpet and beat the drums,
in honour of war, in honour of lovemaking.
So sound the trumpet and beat the drums,
in honour of war, in honour of lovemaking.
Ah, it's a famous regiment, the Grand Duchess's regiment.
It has honour for its beloved,
and victory, oh yes, for its mistress!
With its superb standard, when it arrives somewhere. . .
The women are delighted but the men look glum.
When the regiment leaves town it's quite another matter.
Then it's the men who are delighted but the women look glum.
- Ah, zooks! - Ah, zounds!
So sound the trumpet and beat the drums,
in honour of war, in honour of lovemaking!
Madame. . .
What do you want?
This time, here they are, it's the enemy! Throw the gas!
No, it's Prince Paul.
They've stopped him, and he wants to know the password.
Prince Paul - still here?
- What should I tell him? - What a bore!
Well, go and get him.
You, go and put your uniform on.
I just long to see how it suits you.
Oh, it will suit me well enough!
Leave us, gentlemen. I will see you just before the battle.
Highness!
So sound the trumpet and beat the drums,
in honour of war, in honour of lovemaking!
My God!
Look at this! It's my bridegroom's outfit.
I put it on in the hope it would make your mind up.
Again! But today of all days! It's impossible.
I have too much to do - a plan of campaign,
an army leaving, imagine!
Anyway, go on. . . I won't have time. . .
- You always have reasons. - But what can I do?
Moreover, this morning Baron Grog has had a call from papa.
And what did your father have to say?
He says, since I'm not marrying you,
he'll pack me off to another Grand Duchess.
My marriage has been announced to all the courts in the universe.
- I'm a laughing stock! - Oh, no. . .
Oh, yes! And there's something else.
- Even worse. - What's this?
- They're writing about me. - In this rag?
Yes! They dare to refer to me,
they dare to intrude into our private life!
Off to marry a princess
Prince Paul has gone;
but she seems to be in no hurry,
and the marriage has been put off.
Every day as dawn appears,
Prince Paul puts on white gloves.
Will it be today? No, not yet.
So the prince takes off his gloves.
Prince Paul is a lofty soul;
he suffers, but in silence.
That's what they're saying about me.
That's what they're saying about me in the ''Holland Gazette''. Yes!
We must believe everything they say,
we must believe all they say in the ''Holland Gazette''.
If you think that's funny. . .
The prince was all on fire, red hot,
when he arrived at court.
The prince was burning with love when he arrived at his lady's side.
He must have burned so much, we imagine, that after six months of it
there can't be much left
of that fire he was burning with!
Put your proposal in your pocket,
Prince Paul, and go back home.
That's what they're saying about me.
That's what they're saying about me in the ''Holland Gazette''. Yes!
We must believe everything they say,
we must believe all they say in the ''Holland Gazette''.
I shall subscribe.
Don't be nasty!
There!
Ah, he's the one! No, but look!
- Tell me what you think of that. - A fine lad.
Isn't he?
Captain, go and tell the General and the Baron we are waiting for them.
Ho hum! Madame!
- He's the one! - You haven't given me an answer.
Listen, as soon as ever the affairs of state
leave me one minute to attend to my own happiness,
I shall take advantage of that minute to marry you. Is that agreed?
Till then, it will have to wait.
Finally we shall have a look at General Boum's plan of campaign.
Gentlemen.
Go on, Captain.
No fear.
Go on, General.
- In front of him? - Go on, I tell you!
It's very simple. I divide my army into three bodies of men.
One will go to the right, another to the left,
- and another down the middle. - Superb!
Thus, my army will advance by three different routes
towards the single point where I have resolved to concentrate my efforts.
That's where I shall fight them. There! It's. . .
- Calm down! - I'm telling you it's there. . .
You'll do yourself an injury.
It's for my country! The enemy! Take me to the enemy!
You will get there by three routes.
Shut up, you.
But it's a silly idea, your three routes.
- Watch your mouth! - You forget yourself, Baron!
And why, Captain,
are General Boum's three routes ''silly''?
This man has no right to speak.
He needs to be a higher ranking officer.
- He needs to be an aristocrat. - He has no right. . .
Silence, gentlemen, or I'll have your heads chopped off.
Very well! Agreed!
I'm making him a general, like you and, in addition,
I'm creating him Baron Vermouth-von-Bock-Beer,
and Count Avall-vitt-Katt-Schopp- Vergissmeinnicht. That should do it.
Over to you, General.
Madame. . . Instead of going at the enemy by three routes. . .
It's just the collar that's a bit too high.
It needs to be ten centimetres less, to free up the neck. . .
Go on. . .
We go straight at the enemy. There's only one route.
And all together we strike. . . We strike as hard as one can strike.
We strike; that's all there is to it.
There. That's fine. There's your plan, Baron.
- I won't follow it! - Ah, no? And why not?
With my plan, there would be no battle. . .
With his. . . I shan't follow it!
Baron Vermouth-von-Bock-Beer! May heaven be with you!
From now on, you are General-in-Chief of my army.
- He'*** the jackpot! - Calm down ; we'll get our own back.
They'll all be leaving for the war, with drum in front, with drum beating!
One last look back, then onwards!
They'll all be leaving for the war,
leaving with drums beating!
Listen, one and all,
to the voice of your sovereign :
there is the new General!
Him, our new General!
Yes, soldiers, and I am certain
he won't make a bad job of it.
Let's unite for vengeance, and let's be clever!
He is on his own and we, luckily, are three! Ah!
He's on his own, and we are three!
- You, General-in-Chief! - Well, my goodness, yes! As you see!
- Ah, you will forget me. - Sweetheart, ah, don't be afraid!
- Will you love me for ever? - For ever! Never doubt it.
- Say it again. - As often as you like!
When you've finished talking over there,
perhaps you'd recall that I'm waiting!
She's looking daggers at them!
What's the matter with her, then?
Seeing them,
my heart goes wild ;
why does it beat
all out of time?
And why
does this little girl
get on my nerves so?
Ah, I've got an attack of my nerves!
The Grand Duchess is shaking ; she's got an attack of her nerves.
Let's unite for vengeance, and let's be clever!
He is on his own and we, luckily, are three!
Ah, my nerves, ah, she gets on my nerves!
- Seeing them, - Let's unite
- my heart goes wild ; - for vengeance,
- why does it beat - and let's be clever!
all out of time?
- When she looks at us - He is on his own
- her heart beats wildly, - and we are three!
and I get on her nerves,
she's got her nerves.
But I rule here,
and my duty obliges me to keep face;
it obliges me to show nothing.
Go, sir, and get me
immediately the you-know-what.
What on earth can that be?
The sabre!
Here is my father's sabre.
You will wear it at your side!
Your arm is strong, your heart is proud,
this sword will be worn with style!
When papa went to war,
at least so I've been told,
from the hands of my august mother,
he took this fearsome steel.
Here is the sabre,
here is my father's sabre!
Here is the sabre.
You will wear it at your side!
Here is my father's sabre.
You will wear it at your side!
After the victory,
I hope to see you again, in good health.
For, if you were to die in the war,
I don't know, really,
if I. . .
in the name of my mother!
I was about to say something terrible!
Here is the sabre,
here is my father's sabre!
Here is the sabre.
You will wear it at your side!
You can entrust to my arm without fear
your esteemed father's venerable sabre.
I shall return victorious or not at all.
- You will return victorious! - He won't come back at all!
- I shall return victorious! - He won't come back at all!
He will return victorious!
He won't come back!
No, no, no!
I shall be victorious because of my bravery, my artillery, my cavalry ;
quickly triumphant, the enemy will be crushed, wiped out, broken, scattered!
Let's be off, with music at the helm,
forward, as if to a party, singing!
Be off, with music at the helm,
forward, as if to a party, singing!
We will attack: the enemy will flee.
The enemy will flee, they will be hunted down,
scattered, and sunk.
Merrily we shall go, we'll launch an attack ;
we'll burn all around, we'll plunder all around.
- I shall be victorious. - He will be victorious.
They'll burn all around, they'll plunder all around.
He will be victorious.
He will be beaten.
I shall be victorious thanks to my valour, my artillery, my cavalry!
He will be victorious thanks to his valour, his artillery, his cavalry!
His infantry, all of them will be triumphant!
To horse, gentlemen! My artillery, my cavalry will be triumphant!
Let's be off, let's go!
Forward, forward,
singing!
Be off now, be off,
with music at the helm!
Yes, off you go, as if to a party!
Singing off you go!
You are forgetting my father's sabre!
You are forgetting her father's sabre!
The sabre! The sabre!
Here's the sabre,
here's her father's sabre!
Here's the sabre.
You will wear it at your side!
Go and wipe out the enemy!
Go and save our country!