The Cavalcade of America, sponsored by DuPont, maker of better things for better living through
chemistry, presents Dean Jagger in Nine Men Against the Arctic.
Before we begin our show, here's news of an invention from a DuPont research laboratory.
DuPont paint technicians have developed a new instrument called a profilograph, so delicate
that it will draw the outline of a film of paint only one-fiftieth the thickness of a
dime.
By pointing out the lows and highs in a film of paint, the profilograph helps DuPont paint
laboratories to supply better finishes to the Army and the Navy.
Tonight the Cavalcade of America presents Dean Jagger in an authentic documentary story
as starkly dramatic as the courage of the men who enacted it in real life.
You will hear from one of these men, Lieutenant W.F.
O'Hara, at the end of our play.
Our scene is the great ice cap of Greenland, a wilderness of ice as far as the eye can
see.
Our radio play was written by Paul Peters and in the role of Captain Armand L. Monteverdi
it stars Dean Jagger.
Over the ice cap of Greenland zoomed an American B-17 Flying Fortress, searching for an Army
transport plane long overdue.
It circled the ice cap in vain and started down the eastern coast.
As the weather closed in, Captain Armand L. Monteverdi anxiously turned to his co-pilot,
Lieutenant Harry E. Spencer.
You know, Spence, I don't like this place.
Sure is a long way from Texas.
Can't see anything.
All this whiteness everywhere.
No horizon.
How high are we, anyhow?
I reckon we're plenty high.
Can't be sure.
Like flying through milk.
Yeah, yeah it is, but I don't like it.
What exploded?
Sounds like supercharging me.
You know what I think, Spence?
I think we're...
Spence?
Huh?
Spence, are you hurt?
Well, let me think.
Let me feel my legs first.
How could we crash?
We had altitude, didn't we?
I just thought we had.
Well, let's see what happened to the crew.
Right.
Come on back to the bomb bay.
Great scuff.
Look at that fuselage.
It's busted smack in half.
Oh, Herra.
Lieutenant Herra, are you all right?
Yeah, I think so.
But everything back here has been smashed to pieces.
I call her old, Spence.
Terturone.
Yeah.
Now answer how you're hurt.
I'm just kind of bumped up, sir.
How is it?
Arms lame, sir.
Is it broken?
I know, sir.
There's a charley host, I guess.
Waddell?
Feels like I got a shiner on my left eye, sir.
Am I right?
Yeah, you're right.
Best, I think I cut my head a bit, sir.
Take a look at that.
Where are you?
That's a fiddle.
Spina?
Where's Spina?
There he is.
But he's knocked out.
Cold.
He's alive, though.
Looks like his arm's broken.
Get a blanket for him.
How are you feeling, Spina?
My hands.
Oh.
Here, let me see that arm.
Does this hurt?
A little.
Don't say a little.
If it hurts, I'll take it.
I'll take it.
Don't say a little.
If it hurts, holler.
It hurts.
It's a multiple fracture above the wrist.
Let me rig up a splint for him.
Yeah, all right.
Thanks, Vince.
Best.
Huh?
Hang up a tarpaulin to keep out the wind.
Yes, sir.
Howarth, collect the rations.
Yes, sir.
Now, look, fellas.
Now, being stranded on an ice cap in a 40-pillow blizzard is as new to me as it is to you.
So we'll just have to work out our problems together.
Can't we communicate with our base?
Oh, radio's smashed, but Howarth now start tinkering on it in the morning.
How long you think we'll be out here, sir?
Well, we can't be more than 25 or 30 miles from our weather station.
I'd say two or three days, five at the most.
Boy, when I get back to Waco, I'm gonna strip my backyard and just soak up that good Texas
sun.
You Texans in California, you don't have to go in the backyard for sun.
Well, I think we ought to turn in, Captain.
We can keep pretty warm if we wrap up in parachutes and huddle together.
Yeah, Howarth is right, man.
It's 3 o'clock and the sun's going down.
All right, find yourself a roost and perch.
Shut eye, everybody.
All right.
Out of mile, we'll look to join over.
Then if you've got to get up at night, don't step on the bodies.
We won't.
For three days, the Willow War wind held them locked like a jailer in that frozen plain.
Snow blew into their shelter and sifted into the seams of their clothing.
Hot and cold, they waited for the Arctic to relax its grip.
But the fourth day dawned bright and clear.
It's pretty all right.
Yeah, like living in a box of rock candy.
That time I get out of here, I reckon I'll have seen enough snow to last me the rest
of my life.
Let's take a walk around and see what we can see.
Take you up on that.
We'll be back soon, Marty.
All right, don't go far now.
But outside, men, everybody, outside.
The wind's gone down.
Hunt around on the snow and collect all supplies.
Well, sure, it takes you wind.
Yeah.
My feet are numb.
Like walking on stilts.
Yeah.
Where are you from, O'Hare?
Pennsylvania.
Scranton.
Married?
No.
Just got out of college.
You?
Yes, sir.
Three months.
Name's Patsy.
Cute as a bug.
Little, but oh, my, oh, my.
Mrs. Lieutenant Harry E. Spencer.
That's what the mailman calls her.
Mail for Mrs. Lieutenant Harry E. Spencer.
Oh!
Hey, Marty.
Marty, come here, quick.
What's the matter?
Well, Spence, he just disappeared.
A hole opened and he disappeared.
Hold the hole, everything.
I'll be right there.
Spence.
Hey, Spence, are you down there?
Yeah.
I found him in the dance.
Can you see me?
How far down are you?
About 100 feet.
Over here.
On his ledge.
Oh, OK.
I see you.
Hey, take it easy.
That ledge doesn't look too solid.
Don't worry.
I ain't breathing.
How far is it to the bottom?
Bottom?
Ain't no bottom.
There's the bottom.
Oh, my God.
There's a big black hole down the center of the earth.
Hurry up and get me out of here.
All right, Spence, just keep quiet.
Here comes Marty and the crew with a pile of rope.
I've got a hundred feet of parachute shroud line.
How far down is he?
Well, that ought to make it.
Here, bastard, you're from Texas.
Make a sling harness.
Give it here.
You don't have to watch these ice crevasses.
They're covered with snow.
You step on them and bang down you go like falling down an elevator shaft.
Right, sir.
I know it's good for steers.
All right, Spence.
Spence, slip this harness in.
All right, Spence.
All right, hold it a minute.
You all right, Spence?
Well, rope is slicing handwrapped off my ribs.
Just keep on pulling.
All right, then, once more.
Pull.
Oh, boy, oh, boy.
Don't let me down now.
We won't let you down.
Can you reach my hand?
Yeah.
I've got it.
All right.
Now.
Up.
All right.
Now.
Up.
Good boy, Spence.
Good boy.
You hurt anybody, Spence?
How does it feel, Lieutenant?
Feel?
It feels like falling in a cube compartment of a great big refrigerator.
Yowee!
Next time I go underground, I want to be deep in the heart of Texas.
Five days.
Six days.
Eight days.
Ten days.
With tireless patience, they thawed out their radio, patched it up, and sent their anxious
hands ringing over the frozen air to the nearest weather station.
Back came the reassuring answer.
Cheer up, men.
We're sending sleds and dog teams to save you.
We'll have you here in no time.
Out of a bomb site, they built a stove to thaw their rations.
With wires, they secured the tail of their plane to the forward part when they discovered
their shelter slipping into a crevasse that yawned at their very door.
O'Hara's feet were now frozen, and he had to be put to bed beside the injured spinner.
Filled with hope, beset by problems, they fought the elements.
And then came Thanksgiving.
Another helping of that turkey, please.
You'll have half a ration, Kay, and lichen.
Would you consider me a hog if I asked for just a little more of that chestnut dressing?
Oh, Lieutenant, cut it out.
What's the matter, Waco?
Stomach weak?
When I think of the way Patsy used to cook those...
Keep quiet a minute.
Excuse me, Lieutenant, but I...
I keep hearing a motor.
Ah, go on, Howard.
That's just the electric fan in the parlor.
You mean the oil furnace in the basement, don't you?
Don and I do hear a motor.
It's an airplane.
Listen, I tell you!
Hey!
Hey, he's right.
Hey!
Hey, look out, Wadalya.
You're stepping on a harrow.
Hey, Tucciarone, take your mittens.
Want to freeze your hands?
It's a C-54.
Boy, oh, boy, ain't that pretty.
Look!
Look, he's wagging his wings at us.
I think he's dropping something.
Yeah, it's...
It's fallen on the other side of the crevasse.
Inside, Howard, get that radio going.
Now, wait, I'll go with you.
C-54.
C-54, come in.
Come in, C-54.
C-54.
This is C-54.
B-17 on the ice cap.
Do you hear me?
We hear you, C-54.
Go ahead.
This is Colonel Bernd Bolshan speaking.
Is Captain Monteverdi there?
It's Bernd Bolshan, the Arctic explorer.
Here's the mic.
Thanks.
This is Captain Monteverdi.
Be careful, Colonel.
We're surrounded on all sides by deep crevasses.
Can't land anyhow.
Wind's too high.
I've dropped rations, Arctic clothes, and a primus stove.
Can you reach them, Captain?
No, they fell on the other side of the crevasses.
All right.
I'll circle back and drop some more.
Well, fly low.
You'll have to do precision bombing.
Right.
I'll come down to 200 feet.
How are your two injured men?
Ospina's wrist is healing, Colonel, but O'Hara, I'm afraid...
Tell him I'm all right.
I'm afraid O'Hara's feet are frozen.
We've got to get him out of here.
We have your precise location now.
The dock teams couldn't make it,
but we are sending out a motor sled
and there's a coast guard cut ahead
for the nearest shore with a grum and amphibian aboard.
We'll get there, but you've got to be patient.
That's all... that's all we've got, Colonel, patience.
But don't make it too long, please.
Right.
I'm signing off now.
Fog rolling in.
So long and good luck.
Cheers.
They fished round in the snow for those precious rations.
Canned chicken, sausage, soup,
and a carton of candy bars.
The tea and sugar were scrambled,
but they strained them apart with mosquito netting
from a jungle kit.
American ingenuity found use for even a jungle kit
in the Arctic.
November 29th, a hopeful day.
By sled, by boat, by plane,
rescuers approaching.
Try again. We've got to reach them, Howarth.
We've got to.
B-17 calling grum and amphibian.
Come in, please.
Grumman, come in.
This is Lieutenant John A. Pritchard
on the grum and amphibian from Coast Guard Cutter Clinton.
Can we come down, B-17?
B-17, can we come down?
Captain, he wants to know if we can come down.
Tell him no.
Don't land, Lieutenant.
Ice crevasses all around.
How about further up? Is it safe there?
No.
You can't come down, Lieutenant.
Not even using plane floats for skis?
No.
Captain Monteverdi says no, Lieutenant.
He's going away, sir.
Yes, he's going away.
As our play continues, nine Army fliers
marooned on the Greenland ice cap
with their plane crashed
have just watched a rescue plane turn back
after Captain Monteverdi advised them
that a landing would be sheer suicide.
But one hour later...
Hello!
Say, did you hear what I hear?
Hey, somebody's calling.
They're here. They're here.
Boy, is this going to be a welcome.
Captain Monteverdi.
Yes, I'm Monteverdi.
I'm from Amphibia.
I came down a mile away. It took an hour to walk it.
You shouldn't have landed, Lieutenant.
You may not be able to take off again.
I'll have to move fast before the floats freeze in.
Two are all I can carry, Captain.
You? Only two?
I'll be back again.
Besides, a couple of motor sleds are coming over the ice cap for you.
They ought to be here by midnight.
Well, are you ready, Captain?
No, not me. I...
I want to get my sick men out.
Can they walk it in this wind?
I'll have to test for crevasses every inch of the way.
Yes, yeah, I...
I guess you're right at that.
Tutcherone.
Yes, sir.
Do you feel strong enough to walk that mile?
Captain, I never felt strong in my life.
All right.
Per year, how about you?
Captain, I'm a born walker.
All right, Lieutenant.
There are your men. You better get going.
Goodbye, Captain.
I'll be back soon.
Hey, Tutcherone.
Send a wire to my folks in La Crosse.
Don't forget for a year...
Mrs. Lieutenant Harry E. Spencer in Dallas.
November 30th.
Pritchard came back in the grumman...
when Monteverde saw a fog rolling in...
and sent Howarth, the farm boy...
to warn them to take off at once.
Howarth was to fly back with Pritchard.
They wagged their wings merrily...
as they soared over the camp...
and crashed to instant death...
five minutes later.
Now only the sleds remain.
But they did arrive.
At 1 a.m., manned by Lieutenant Demarest...
of the weather station...
and Staff Sergeant Don Tetley.
Next morning...
O'Hara and Spinner ready to go?
Yeah. I got them bundled up like papooses.
Spence, do you see something?
No, what?
Say, there's only one sled now.
Hey! Hey, fellas, quit!
Everybody, step on it.
Best, Maddow, bring some rope.
Tetley, what happened?
Where's Demarest? Gone, huh?
Just like that, he's disappeared.
No! Hang on to me, I'll look over the edge.
Look out, Monty, you go in. Hang on to my legs.
You see anything, Captain?
Just the tail end of the tow sled.
How far down?
About 200 feet.
Oh! She will never get him out.
Demarest!
Can you answer, Demarest?
He's gone.
Just a minute ago.
Keep quiet.
Demarest!
It's no use.
No.
Let me down on a rope, sir.
We've been out here three weeks, man.
We haven't the strength.
Can't we do something, sir?
A rope ladder, maybe.
Well, we get enough rope.
We can't just leave him here.
Here we...
He gave up a good job to come out here.
He knew Greenland.
He loved it.
Now Greenland's taken his life.
Come on, boy.
Come back to camp.
Storms and blizzards.
Not even Pappy Turner, the veteran Greenland pilot who dropped the marations, could fly.
Food ran low.
Ohara, sickened with gangrene feet,
began to waste away.
Still the blizzard hemmed them in.
Silently, each by himself,
they fought despair.
December, January.
January 7th.
At last, a still clear day.
With Ohara snogging a sleeping bag on the motor sled,
Spencer, Tetley and Waddell were trudging by the road.
Taking him out to safety.
You know, I've been thinking.
When this war's over, I'm gonna buy me a farm.
The farm's nice if you like it, Waddell.
I like it.
Wife's gonna have a baby sometime this month.
He'll like it, too.
Yeah.
Warm enough for Ohara?
Yeah.
Warm enough for Ohara?
Yeah, I'm warm.
How far did you say we've gone?
A mile, maybe.
Hey!
Look out! Grab a sled!
Wait! I can't!
Hold it! I'm sleeping! I can't!
Ah!
Tetley, quick! Got a sled ahead!
I think the sled's safe here.
Let's go back and look for him.
Hey.
See anything?
Not a chance.
Fritchett and Howarth and Demarest,
and now Waddell.
Greenland.
He's eating us up one by one.
Wife's gonna have a baby sometime this month.
Yeah.
He was gonna buy a farm when he got back.
Howrah's fast asleep.
Hey, what's this brown stuff on the snow?
It looks like oil to me.
What do you know about that?
Feed line's busted.
How can't we fix it?
I doubt it.
You ask me, the sled's finished.
What do we do now?
Dig in.
Make a snow house.
Wait, wait, wait, wait.
That's all we do. Wait.
How much can a human being endure?
January passed in an agony of blizzards.
February and wind drifts and nights of ruthless cold.
March, spring equinox,
and the days going out.
The
Ohara Delirious.
Monteverde suffering from frostbite.
The
Spina's arm healed, but he was weak and helpless.
How much suffering can that bundle of muscle, nerve, and brain we call a man endure?
April 5th.
A Catalina flying boat dropped out of the sky.
Her wheels retracted.
Her wing floats lowered.
Captain Monteverde.
Colonel Balchon.
It took us a long time, Captain, but we got here.
Well, that's the main thing, Colonel.
You got here.
We want you and your men to drop everything now, Captain.
We'll tuck you in and take care of you.
I guess we won't object to that, Colonel.
We're just so darn tired of fighting.
Thank you, Dean Jagger.
A little later, our star will return to introduce Lieutenant Ohara,
one of the real-life heroes of tonight's dramatization.
Meanwhile, we want to tell you how chemical rubber is helping to defend American cities
and war industry centers from hostile aircraft attack.
For the first time, barrage balloons now float in the sky over vital points in American cities.
They call them rubber cows, and they do look a bit like cows,
but they aren't made of natural rubber.
And in that fact, there's a story we think will interest you.
Two years ago, the task of training men to handle barrage balloons
was handed to the Coast Artillery.
A training center was established, balloons were tested,
and specifications given to manufacturers.
When the Army was reorganized in March a year ago,
the anti-aircraft troops were given the barrage balloons as one of their anti-aircraft weapons.
That's what they are, a defensive weapon.
Their cables form a sky-riding net through which an enemy bombing plane
flies at the risk of having its wings torn away and its propeller entangled.
They force the enemy bombers to fly high where the bomber's aim is poor.
That's why, although it comes as news to many people,
American anti-aircraft units have flown barrage balloons for more than two years,
and they're flying over more than one American city tonight.
Barrage balloons are sausage-shaped,
with fins that keep them pointing into the wind like weather vanes.
They're made of fabric treated with neoprene, DuPont's chemical rubber.
Neoprene is used not merely to save rubber,
but because neoprene, a man-made rubber, is much more resistant to sunlight,
weather, grease, and oil than the rubber made from the sap of trees.
In this particular case, man's chemistry is better than nature's.
Or as the War Department says,
quote, in many respects the neoprene balloon appears to have definite advantages
over the rubberized balloon.
It is believed that neoprene fabric will stand up better in the tropics than will rubber.
The diffusion rate of neoprene fabric is generally more favorable
than that of rubberized fabric, unquote.
We of DuPont are glad the Army has found still another wartime job
for one of our peacetime better things for better living through chemistry.
And here is Dean Jagger, star on tonight's cavalcade.
APPLAUSE
The real star, the real stars of tonight's cavalcade
are those brave men whose story we have reenacted for you tonight.
And not all of those nine men came back from the Arctic.
Those who did will carry the marks and scars of those harrowing months all their lives.
Such a man is Lieutenant W.F. O'Hara of Scranton, Pennsylvania.
In order to save his life, it was necessary to amputate both legs.
Lieutenant O'Hara has left Walter Reed Hospital in Washington tonight
to speak to the cavalcade audience.
It's my honor now to present Lieutenant W.F. O'Hara of the United States Army Air Force.
APPLAUSE
Hearing cavalcade's reenactment of those days on the ice cap
has compressed an eternity of waiting into less than half an hour.
Of the seven men who came back, three, Lieutenant Spencer, Sergeant Spina, and Tucciarone,
are still serving on the fairly command from our old base near Wilmington, Delaware.
Captain Monteverdi is on duty on the West Coast.
Staff Sergeant Tetley is an officer's candidate school,
while Best and Purier are on active duty. I don't know just where.
And Colonel Balchon, who brought us out, is still in the Arctic.
With the passage of time, I have regained some of the 100 pounds I lost in weight,
and the experience grows more and more unreal.
A bad dream that one wants to forget.
The only reality now is a reality of the day-by-day winning of the war.
Each of us has to help in his own way, and there are money ways,
being blood donors, buying bonds, doing a good day's work on the production line.
There isn't much one can do in a wheelchair in a hospital,
and yet if I can make this one point, the need for everyone to do is utmost.
That is something.
Thank you, Lieutenant O'Hara.
There are many roads which lead right to Tokyo.
We shall neglect none of them.
This is the promise of our Commander-in-Chief,
a promise which recent victories in the Aleutians are bearing out.
Next week, Cavalcade takes you on a shortcut to Tokyo,
a vivid eyewitness account of the Battle of the Aleutians,
based on Corey Ford's bestseller of the same title, starring Ralph Bellamy.
Don't forget, be with us next week when Cavalcade brings you Ralph Bellamy
in Shortcut to Tokyo.
Cavalcade is pleased to announce that Dean Jagger,
star of this evening's performance, is shortly to be seen
in the new Samuel Goldwyn production, North Star.
The orchestra and musical score tonight were under the direction of Donald Burys.
This is Clayton Collier sending best wishes from Cavalcade sponsor,
the DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware.
This program came to you from New York.
This is the National Broadcasting Company.