Julien Duvivier arguably made a star out of Jean Gabin via La Bandera in 1934 - they had worked together previously when Gabin appeared in a small role in Maria Chapeldaine and would do so again profitably in La Belle Epoque, Pepe Le Moko and Voice les temps des assassins - and in 1944 when both found themselves in America they teamed up yet again for this philosophical moralist entry in which Gabin is literally minutes away from the guillotine on June 14, 1940 when, in the wake of Paris falling to the German invaders, the prison is bombed by the Luftwaffe allowing Gabin to escape. Hitching a ride toward Bordeaux with a group of French soldiers he has further luck when the jeep is strafed and he emerges unharmed. At this point, discretion being the better part of valour, he steals the uniform and identity of a dead sergeant as a means to an end but as a result of various twists of fate he winds up as part of a company shipped to Africa where he rises through the ranks until he becomes a Lieutenant having acquired along the way the love, admiration and respect of the men in his outfit. The phrase 'motley crew' has seldom been better employed as Gabin finds himself in close proximity with people like John Qualen (in arguably his biggest role), Richard Whorf, Milburn Stone, Allen Joslyn, Peter Van Eyck and Charles McGraw. Digression: Large oaks from little acorns grow; in the fullness of time, the very next year, in fact, Richard Whorf turned from acting to directing with the Jerome Kern biopic Til The Clouds Roll By, and in the next decade he directed 18 episodes of Gunsmoke in which his old army buddy Milburn Stone had a featured role). In a mostly male cast Ellen Drew has a cameo as the fiancée of the dead man whose identity has been assumed by Gabin. In a time of war the morality must have been intriguing; Gabin is an orphan, a loner, a self-confessed murderer, who undergoes redemption after finding human warmth via his platoon; the real sergeant was a decorated hero but Gabin ultimately enhances the name of the dead man via his own valor, a point made by his defense counsel when he is exposed and stands trial. Two years later in England Basil Dearden would take the basic premise of one man stealing another's identity in the midst of a war and put spin on it in The Captive Heart, in which Michael Redgrave, having stolen an identity, is obliged to write letters to the dead man's wife back in England, the twist is that in this case the dead man WAS a bastard rather than a hero, and the wife who was initially bemused by his change of heart, falls in love with the man she thinks is her husband. This is a valuable movie in Duvivier's oeuvre and a DVD version is long overdue.