The Cabalcade of America, sponsored by DuPont, maker of better things for better living through
chemistry, presents Francis Langford, June Lockhart, and Tony Romano in GI Valentine.
Most of the products recently developed by chemists are doing more jobs now. There is
one new discovery, however, that is available to help you keep your home bright and cheerful.
It is Speed Easy, the new DuPont wall finish that so many people are using to paint over
faded soiled wallpaper. DuPont Speed Easy covers in one coat. It dries in an hour. It
comes in eight attractive colors. And DuPont Speed Easy is inexpensive, too. You can do
over an average room for less than three dollars. Tonight, February 14th, Cavalcade delivers
a valentine to the home front from the hearts of our servicemen and women overseas. The
bearer of this valentine is Francis Langford, who has recently returned from a 50,000 mile
entertainment tour through the theaters of war. Francis Langford, with Bob Hope, Tony
Romano, and other great troopers, carried song and laughter to more than five million
of our men and women on fighting fronts from the Aleutians to Sicily. Assisted by Tony
Romano and his indispensable guitar, and with June Lockhart as a pilot sweetheart, Ms. Langford
gives us an account written by Frank Gabrielson, the highlights of those 50,000 miles of singing
through the war, telling us particularly of American women at war, of the WACs, the Red
Cross workers, and the Gallant Army nurses. DuPont presents GI Valentine, starring Francis
Langford with Tony Romano and June Lockhart on the Cavalcade of America.
I will come back, dry those blue eyes. I will come back someday. You will be in my
memory every hour that I'm away. I will come back someday. You will be in my memory every
hour that I'm away.
Dear, just a little girl, dear, just a little girl, dear, just a little girl, dear, just
remember you shouldn't feel so blue. There are so many others who feel the way you do.
I won't say when, but we'll meet again. Honey, try and please don't forget me. I'll be there
for you. Don't cry.
Now let's go back to the summer of 1942 and a phone call. Hello?
Miss Langford? Yes.
This is the USO Camp Shows. We'd like you and Bob Hope to make a tour of bases in Alaska
and the Aleutians. What do you say?
What would any woman say? I'd love it, but what do I wear?
On your forthcoming trip for the purpose of building morale in the armed forces, you are
advised to take a fur coat, slacks, heavy sweaters, woolen socks, and woolen underwear.
If desired, one heavy, practical, warm wool dress may be taken. So that was the wardrobe
I took. And the first night we were in Alaska, we were asked to a party at the officer's
club in Fairbanks. They wore their uniforms and I was the glamour girl who was supposed
to uplift morale. I felt like Cinderella at five after twelve. Seriously though, it was
wonderful to see those girls in their neat dress uniforms. That same afternoon I'd seen
them working endlessly in their wards. But tonight...
You see, Frances, we work quite hard and we don't get much chance to remember life like
it was. And we hope it's going to be again. So when we get an excuse like this dance,
well we go all out feminine. Personally, I'm in this war so I can call my lipstick as well
as my soul my own.
That nurse was up before light the next morning and worked all day at the hospital. Besides
her regular duties, she assisted at an emergency operation. She wrote four letters home for
wounded men. She kitted constantly with the men in the convalescent ward and lighted several
cigarettes for a bombardier from the Aleutians who had lost both arms. She went to bed that
night dead tired, considering it an average day. I don't think anybody's going to get
her lipstick and I know nobody will ever get her soul.
We went to Alaska about a week, flying to as many camps as we could. We played to audiences
of thousands and we played to little groups of bearded men at out of the way landing fields
hacked out of the forest. In some of these places the men hadn't seen a woman in over
a year. From Alaska we flew to the Aleutians, to Nak-Nak, Cold Bay, past Dutch Harbor, on
out to Umnak. At Umnak they told me I was the first white woman ever on the island and
everyone began calling me the Virginia Dare of Umnak. There wasn't a building large enough
to hold all the men so we gave our show outdoors in the pouring rain. They had built a kind
of stage for us but naturally there were no seats. The men in the offices just squatted
down in the mud to watch us. And what an audience they were.
You made me sigh for I didn't want to tell you, I didn't want to tell you. I want some
love, that's true, yes I do, indeed I do, you know I do. Give me, give me, give me what
I cry for. You know you've got the brand of kisses that I die for. You know you made me
love you.
Tony, that kid there, he's crying so. Homesick probably. Bring him around afterwards,
huh Tony? Okay, let's take it again. A one, a two. You made me.
Well, congratulations Miss Langford, a great show. Thanks Colonel, I hope the boys liked
it. Liked it, they loved it. Francis, Francis, can I see you a minute? Yes Tony, will you
excuse me a minute gentlemen? Why certainly Miss Langford. I found the kid you wanted
to see Francis. Oh good. Fanny, this is Eddie Riggs. Hello Eddie. How do ma'am? You better
call me Francis, ma'am really makes me feel like Virginia Dare. Yes ma'am. You're in
the Air Force I see. Well, meteorology, we take care of the weather. You must have your
hands full up here. This rain. Two hundred sixty one six tenths inches a year. Is it
interesting work? Yes ma'am. Francis. Say where are you from Eddie? Chute, Kansas. You
know I'll probably be in Kansas this winter. We play camps all over the country at home
you know. Say would you like me to call up your folks and tell them I saw you? That'd
be a bother for you. Oh no, I'm making calls for a lot of the boys. Well if you really
could be fine. Just look in the chute phone book, numbers under Dr. George Riggs and ask
for ma'am. Mrs. Riggs I mean. I certainly will Eddie. I'm sorry my song upset you.
I liked your song honestly. What were you crying about? Sorry you noticed. Didn't think
anybody would in the rain. Anything wrong at home Eddie? No, everybody's fine. Otherwise
I'd have got a letter from Ma. She's pretty busy so she doesn't write much unless something
special's happened. Of course Pa hasn't got time to write his prescriptions hardly. When
I call your mother Eddie, shall I tell her you might like a letter even if there isn't
much to say? Just say you saw me. I think a lot about home. That wasn't why I was crying.
Why then? I guess it's just the idea you folks come on all this way to make us laugh and
feel better. It's great to know people at home haven't forgotten all about us. Last
June we started out again, this time for England. Bob and Tony and I. We were there six or seven
weeks giving shows at American camps all over the British Isles. For the first time I had
the sense of seeing a whole country at war. For every shortage we have at home, the English
have a dozen. It's pretty hard to be complacent about a war when you've had it in your own
backyard and the English have. What I remember most vividly about England is the day we spent
at one of the American air bases there. Before sunrise we stood on the field and watched
45 fortresses take off on an undisclosed mission. We counted them out one by one as they moved
down the runways and took the air. Forty-five went out. How many would come back? That afternoon
we again stood beside the runways to wait for the returning planes and count them in.
We weren't the only ones that waited. There were the ground crews. There were officers
anxious to learn the results of the mission. There were a few wives and sweethearts waiting.
And there was a row of ambulances, all waiting. Just before the scheduled time of return,
the suspense gets almost unbearable. Everyone on the field gets it too. Next to me was a
girl in a red cross workers outfit. She lit a cigarette and I could see her hands shake.
This waiting can be tough, huh? Every time I come here I swear it's the last time. I saw
all 45 go out this morning. And you know, I have a hunch they're all 45 coming back.
Well, figure on a 5% loss and you'll be about right. Two or three planes probably. Say,
you connected with this base? Only unofficially. I'm engaged to the navigator on the fortress
Popeye. And the Popeye sounds unbeatable. If they don't run out of spinach, meaning luck.
Why is everybody so quiet all of a sudden? Well, they're just about due back, if nothing
went wrong. Listen. And they were coming back. Fortress after fortress. One, two, then five,
then ten of them. Are any of those the Popeye? No. Then it was 20 of them, and 25 and 30.
Is the Popeye here yet? Not yet. Then it was 32, 35, 37, 38. Are you positive the Popeye
hasn't landed? Positive. Oh look, look here comes 39 and 40. But that's not him. How can
you tell from this distance? I know his plane. After number 40 hit the field they seemed to
stop coming. Oh, they can't have lost five. No, no, here's another and one more behind
it. That's 42. That's three lost. Well, that's not too bad. Is his plane one of those two?
I can't tell yet. Oh wait, there are another two back of them. That's 44. Out of four,
then it's bound to be the Popeye. Well, it looks like they finally ran out of spinach.
Oh come on, I'm sure they'll make it. They'd have been here long ago. Anyway, they all
don't come back. Well, thanks for waiting with me. I'm sorry. Well, every trip somebody's
left looking at the empty sky. Why, why one out of 45 is a very good percentage of...
Listen, do you hear something? Oh, it's the Popeye. They found their spinach. The cavalcade
of America sponsored by DuPont, maker of better things for better living through chemistry,
is bringing you Frances Langford with Tony Romano and June Lockhart in GI Valentine,
a firsthand account of Miss Langford's travels on three continents to sing for our fighting
men and women. She has told us how with Bob Hope and Tony Romano, she visited our forces
in Alaska, the Aleutians, and the British Isles. From England they headed for North
Africa where Frances resumes her story. Africa was everything I expected, but more so. More
heat, more sand, more strangeness. At our first show there, the temperature was something
over 130 in the shade, but there wasn't any shade. After the show, we had about two hours
before we left. I was tired and wanted to rest, so some wax station there took me to
their barracks so I could have a nap. A nice long nap. How long are dresses now? How about
these ration points? Can you or can't you get nail polish? Dresses are about to...
here. Can you get nail polish? Well, that's not too tough. But face tissue is murder,
huh? Murder is right. You know, when I get out of this girl's army, I'm just going to
a beauty parlor and stay. Who's the big star of entertainment now, Frances? President Company
accepted. Well, I'd say Sinatra. Who? Frank Sinatra. What does he do? Why, he's a singer.
I never even heard of him. Me neither. Shows you. Time goes by. Frances, why aren't more girls
at home joining the wax? Oh, do we have to talk sharp? Well, I want to know. Why aren't
they, Frances? Oh, pay no attention to Ryan Frances. She thinks it's smart to gripe. She's
only the best soldier in the outfit. What's tough about that? Well, last month she could
have had to leave home. She wouldn't take it. Why should I go where I can't get face tissue
or bobby pins? That's too tough. Don't let her kid you, Frances. She's crazy about the
outfit. Say, Frances, you got a picture of yourself you can spare? Sure, Ryan. I'll autograph
one for you. Oh, no, no. Don't sign it. I'll do that. You'll sign my name on the picture?
No, my own. I want to send it to a guy I'm corresponding with. Then it's somebody you've
never met. Yeah. His lodge writes to wax. But what'll happen when you meet him? How is
he going to like you signing my picture? Oh, he won't have any kid coming. You know what
he sent me with his name on? A picture of your husband, John Hall. Say, what time you got?
Ten past. Holy cow, I got to write my letter. I'll see you after you had your nap, Frances.
You bet, soldier. A real GI Josephine, that gal. Is she really going to write to that man?
Oh, that's just for laughs. She's going to write her brother now. He's got a bum lung
or something so the Army wouldn't take him. He feels kind of bad about it, so Ryan is always
writing him. Her brother is why she joined up. She figured if he couldn't fight, that
she should. Then Ryan really likes the ranks, huh? She loves it. And if only they'd let
us use guns, she'd be the happiest girl in the world.
These three are strong, healthy women. Any war plant in America would pay them almost
as much for a week as the Army pays them for a month. In this country, of course, they
would have to face point rationing, gas rationing, shortages of non-essential goods, and the
income tax. But they would be home and they would be safe. Instead, these girls, on their
own free will, chose a job that brought them to blistering Africa and air raids and no
extra pay for overtime. Private Ryan, even before you get to that beauty shop, you look
mighty good to me.
From Berserda, we flew to Sicily, where in a single show we performed to 19,000 men.
Our stage was a captured Nazi tank. One day in Sicily, we played a hospital show. I'm
walking down the corridor. On our way to the ward, we heard Latin coming from one of the
small rooms. It was a Catholic chaplain administering the last rites. But we went on to the ward
and did our show, and the wounded men enjoyed it very much. In this same hospital the next
day, a nurse walked by me carrying a tray. Here, let me help you.
I'm all right.
Sit over here.
Thanks.
I'll get a doctor.
No, don't. Don't. I'll be all right in a minute.
I'm going to get a doctor.
No, please. Please. I just need to rest a minute.
You need to lie down, and you need a doctor.
No, wait. Please. I don't want a doctor.
What do you mean?
I mean, they might send me home.
Maybe they should send you home.
No, no. It's nothing serious. Just that I'm, I guess, I'm getting older.
Please let me get a doctor.
No, no. Look, Miss Langford, I'm a nurse. I've been a nurse for 25 years. I know what
I need and what I don't. Thanks for being worried, but nothing's going to happen to me.
Give me a hand up, please.
Well, at least you can rest a while.
You're married, aren't you, girl?
Yes, I am.
So was I. My husband died in a French hospital in the last war. I don't know quite how he
died, but maybe if he'd had a little better care, he wouldn't have. And if I sit here
resting, well, what happened to my Fred might happen to some of these boys.
I see what you mean. I talked with one kid in the ward who'd only been married a month
before he came overseas.
A month? If Fred and I were married just the day before he sailed for France.
Nice. Nice.
Coming.
But of everything I saw and did, what moved me most happened not once, but every day in
every camp at five o'clock.
Attention!
The flag was lowered, and in the faces of men, you saw what this was. It was home. It was
Main Street. It was why.
Ego some resurrects you.
No, no, that's not the Popeye.
Nurse, nurse.
Coming.
Just tell Maya Swami.
So when we get the chance, we go all out feminine. She could have had leave and she wouldn't
go.
I guess what I really want to say is that I love her, and that I'm coming back to her,
if I can.
Please don't cry. Dry those blue eyes. I will come back.
Someday. You will be in my memory.
Every hour that I'm away.
Dear, just remember, you shouldn't feel so blue.
There are so many others who feel the way you do.
I won't say when, but we'll meet again.
Baby, try.
And please don't cry.
The DuPont Cavalcade thanks you, Francis Langford, June Lockhart, and Tony Romano for your report
to us, and appreciates the fine work you and all the entertainment world are doing to brighten
the days of our fighting men.
Miss Langford has something to add to her report and will return to the microphone in
just a few moments.
Meanwhile, here is Gain Whitman speaking for DuPont to tell us of an interesting chemical
treatment for seeds that benefits us all, whether we are farmers or not.
Eating, somebody has remarked, is a habit. It certainly is. And it isn't limited to any
one country either.
The men and women and children of all nations have a firm, fixed habit of eating. So food
must be grown for them to eat. And we've learned in this war that every extra ton of food we
can produce is precious.
Here is good news for the farmers of North and South America, and good news for all of
us who eat what the farmers grow.
Realizing their vital importance, this year enough mercury has been released to enable
DuPont and other chemical companies to manufacture a full 1944 supply of mercuric seed treatment
compounds for farmers.
Whether you are a farmer or not, this affects you. It affects both the amount of food you
will have in 1944 and the price you will pay for it.
Take cotton, for instance. Cotton isn't a food crop? Oh, yes it is. Cotton seed is every
bit as important as cotton fiber, because cotton seed is used in manufacturing many
cooking oils and kitchen shortenings.
Cotton farmers can plant their seed earlier, getting ahead of their dreaded enemy, the
boll weevil, by using a seed disinfectant like DuPont sirisan, which gives the seed
a protective coating. This coating safeguards the seed even in cold, damp soil in the early
spring and makes it unnecessary for farmers to replant their cotton several times when
soil conditions are unfavorable.
Seed costs money. So does fertilizer. So does labor. All of them, in wartime, are hard to
find.
Seed treatment, treating seed with chemicals before it is planted, usually means bigger
crops of better quality. Wheat, corn, beans, potatoes, practically every food plant known
has its own diseases, carried in many cases on the seeds themselves. If nothing is done
to combat them, these diseases reduce the amount of marketable food produced per acre.
Now there are available not only different mercury seed disinfectants, but also a new
seed treatment which contains an organic product and no mercury. This is arisan seed
treatment. Arisan is an effective product for peanuts, corn, and certain vegetables.
More and more farmers everywhere in the world are learning the value of seed treatment.
So it's good news that in 1944, enough seed treating compounds to fill our needs will
be available.
Seed treating chemicals help to increase the United Nations wartime supply of food. Deserve
honorable mention among DuPont's better things for better living through chemistry.
And here is the star of tonight's cavalcade, Frances Lankford.
Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight, I told you about a time in England when I
saw 45 planes go out and the same 45 planes return. That was last summer. Yesterday, I
met an officer who was at that field that day. Of those 45 planes, two remain. Is it
really so tough to buy that extra war bond?
Next week on the eve of Washington's birthday, DuPont presents Guy Kibbe, Dick Foran, and
Wendy Barry in The Purple Heart Comes to Free Meadows, the warmly inspiring story of a young
sergeant just returned from the war and a New England village eager to honor the first
village boy to win the Purple Heart. It's a dramatic story, too, of the significance
and brave tradition of the original Purple Heart awarded by General Washington.
Frances Lankford appeared on cavalcade tonight through the courtesy of RKO Pictures. June
Lockhart appeared through the courtesy of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, whose current production
is Madame Currie. This is James Bannon sending best wishes from cavalcade sponsor, the DuPont
Company of Wilmington, Delaware, who invites you to join cavalcade's audience next Monday
when Guy Kibbe, Dick Foran, and Wendy Barry will be starred in The Purple Heart Comes
to Free Meadows, the story of the Purple Heart and the brave tradition that surrounds it
down to the present day.