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"They weren't looking forward to visitors, were they?"
This article contains spoilers for Amnesia: The Bunker. Proceed with caution.

This is a page containing all quotes for the French soldier and friend of Henri Clement, Augustin Lambert.

Real-time dialogue[]

This is for all of Lambert’s dialogue that takes place in real-time during Amnesia: The Bunker, entirely within the prologue scenes.


"Henri! Get into cover! Go, go!"
"Follow the trench, it’ll lead you to the rendezvous."
"You’re clear, Henri!"
"I’ll keep you covered from up here, now keep pushing forward!"
"Henri! Where are you!? Henri!?"
"Get this on, fast, fast! No dying on me Henri. We’ll make it out of this hell together. Now follow me, we’re nearly there."

The Crater[]

"Henri…? Is that you?"
"Here, drink this. Then I’m going to get you out of here."

No Man's Land[]

"I can’t walk… My leg… too weak."
*grunt* "I’ll get you back to safety. Just hold on to me."
"Henri… they found us."
"I’m weighing you down. Leave me behind."


This is for all Augustin's dialogue that is told through flashbacks.

"Hahahaha! Beat that roll, my friend!"
"There you have it, huh?"
"Ah, fate’s a bastard. I’m on patrol tonight then. C’est la vie."


Augustin's Journal Part I[]

"11 July 1916 – Dusk

I sit now at the bedside of my dear friend Henri Clément. The doctor has left but I remain.

I feel I must record the extraordinary twists of fate and fortune that have led me to be here, breathing, alive, strong and well, while Henri lies unconscious, fighting for his life.

It starts days ago, on a night patrol, I fell into some kind of pit. I was injured, unable to move, unable to escape.

By all rights, it should have been my tomb.

I cried for help, screamed myself hoarse. The effort left me parched, exhausted, and still alone.

As the next night fell, as I cried what might have been my last cry for help, I could see the stars high, high above. Beautiful, indifferent...

And then Clément's face appeared at the top of the pit!

He lowered himself to me, found a trickle of spring water there and had me drink from it. It was cool and crisp with a strange, sweet taste. Never has water felt more nourishing than that, administered by a dear friend's hand.

I was saved... but of course... that is not the last twist fate's blade would stab into my back.

11 July 1916 – Night

Later now. I continue my tale.

As Clément carried me across No Man's Land, fate struck again. A German outpost spotted us. Gunfire, explosions, desperation.

And as the air cleared, I pulled myself to my feet and saw that Henri was wounded. Blood pouring from his head, his eyes glassy. He was fading.

I do not know where I found the strength to carry him. But carry him I did, all the way back to our bunker.

12 July 1916 – Morning

Woke this morning and realized that the toy I purchased for my son is gone.

I promised him I'd bring him something home from the front so I bought him a stuffed rabbit from a local shop. A rabbit because he thinks he's so fast.

It must have fallen from my pack when I fell into the crater.

The thought of that stuffed rabbit lying in that crater, rain and weather matting its fur, unloved, forgotten, totally alone, lost forever, it fills me with a profound hopelessness...

12 July 1916 Afternoon

Spoke to the doctor. He told me Henri woke in the night and had no recollection of the events in the crater. Indeed he seemed even confused as to where he was.

Aside from this disturbing news, I am feeling rather good. Stronger and stronger. As if the whole ordeal has filled both my body and soul with new purpose."

Augustin's Journal Part II[]

"12 July 1916
Up again. In the chapel. Trying to pray but my mind is too alive with thoughts of the crater, the rabbit, and that water. Its taste.

And yet I don't feel tired. Instead I feel this itch. This sense that there are things I must do. Purpose. A bloody purpose higher than any of man's petty wars....

13 July 1916

Morning. Everyone's talking about hearing scratching at the walls. Tremblay even claims to have heard howls echoing through the barracks.

I feel strange myself. Can barely find the words to write. My hands feel so odd. Gnarled, bulbous. Like they don't belong to me.

I hesitate to write this but a thought keeps echoing in my head. A thought I must not act on. A bloody thought so seductive. It calls... it calls... it calls...

15 July 1916

Madness in the barracks this morning. Reynard's dead. They say murder but will not show us the body.

A dream rises in my mind - countless cruel eyes upon me.

Must check on Henri. Wish he would wake. Could use a friend. My prayers remain unanswered.

18 July 1916

Blood on my hands blood on my hands blood on my hands.

Their pain. I want more of it.

I can hear Tremblay now. Coming closer... closer... closer... I can get what I want from him..."