In 1919, Mathilde become 19 years vintage. Two years in advance, her fiancé Manech left for the the front at the Somme. Like hundreds of thousands of others he turned into "killed on the sector of battle." It's written in black and white on the reputable note. But Mathilde refuses to trust it. If Manech had died, she would understand. She hangs directly to her intuition as tightly as she might onto the ultimate thread of hope linking her to her lover. A former sergeant tells her in useless that Manech died in the no guy's land of a trench named Bingo Crepescule, inside the business enterprise of four other guys condemned to die for self-inflicted wounds. Her course ahead is full of barriers but Mathilde isn't always worried. Anything is possible to someone who is willing to undertaking destiny...