In 1919 Latvia, a detachment of German Freikorps soldiers is stationed at a country château known as Kratovice, near Riga, with the mission of quelling Bolshevik guerrillas as part of the Latvian War of Independence—a slice of the broader turmoil that followed the Bolshevik Revolution. The unit is commanded by Erich von Lhomond, Matthias Habich, whose disciplined bearing masks a steady emotional distance that often sets him at odds with those around him. The chateau serves as the home base for their leader, Konrad von Reval, Rüdiger Kirschstein, and for Sophie de Reval, Margarethe von Trotta, his sister, whose presence adds a fragile personal tension to the military occupation. The household is completed by Sophie’s aunt, Tante Praskovia, Valeska Gert, a half-senile Jewish woman whose memories and warnings hover over the proceedings. The environment of dinners, social rites, and dwindling supplies creates a cramped stage where loyalties and desires rub against duty.
Sophie, at once free-spirited and wary, finds herself drawn to Erich even as he keeps a strict professional shell around his feelings. He scolds her for smoking and keeps the emotional distance that characterizes his approach to relationships, while Sophie’s flirtations and provocations test the boundaries of propriety within the fragile, borrowed hospitality of the château. Her attempts to attract him are met with resistance, though at times he relaxes the lines, revealing the complexity of their rapport in a life-and-death setting. The tension intensifies under the mistletoe during a Christmas moment, when Erich publicly rebukes or disciplines Sophie in a way that underscores the strain between desire and discipline.
Sophie’s allegiance to her own impulses does not erase her practical loyalties; she maintains contact with Bolshevik forces nearby and turns to a Bolshevik-aligned circle for reading materials, including those from Grigori Loew, Franz Morak. The dynamic between the Germans and the surrounding factions is fractured and fragile, as dwindling supplies press the women to find ways to endure, and as some of the men phase in and out of the front lines, returning with news or spoils of their forays toward Riga.
As the siege continues, a crucial revelation threads through the narrative: a childhood friend of Erich hints at a buried attraction between Erich and Konrad, suggesting a past moment on a Riga trip that unsettles Sophie and unsettles Erich’s own sense of loyalty. The uneasy anti-Bolshevik coalition begins to fracture, and the expectation of reinforcements diminishing—indeed, the news that no help is coming—casts a grim shadow over the residents of the château. An offensive is launched under Erich’s leadership, and the clash costs the unit its lone medic, a blow that sharpens the sense of isolation and peril.
Konrad is killed during the withdrawal, and as the German lines break under pressure, Grigori is slain in an ambush while Sophie is captured. In the wake of these losses, Erich offers to escort Sophie back to Germany, though she turns the moment into a last act of defiance by stealing his cigarettes. The train to Germany is delayed by further attacks, and dawn finds the group braced for the inevitable. When Sophie’s execution time arrives, she asks Erich to shoot her; he complies, killing her with a single pistol shot, a brutal culmination that defines the film’s unflinching close. The unit photographs a final group portrait, then boards the waiting troop train, the costs of loyalty and love etched into the faces of those who remain.
