The Cavalcade of America, sponsored by DuPont, maker of better things for better living through chemistry, presents Edward Arnold in 12 Desperate Miles. Today many of DuPont's better things for better living are guarding the health and lives of our fighting men. For example, Fabricoid coated fabrics, which come to you in peacetime in the form of attractive and serviceable handbags, upholstery, and book bindings, are now being used for scores of war equipment items. Fabricoid now goes into tents, food bags, hospital sheeting, jungle hammocks, life preserver jackets, and emergency sails for rubber lifeboats. Tonight, Cavalcade brings you one of the strangest and most stirring stories of the sea ever to come out of this or any other war. It is the real life story of the battered little tramp steamer, a crew picked up from the ends of the earth, a skillful and courageous skirth, and how between them they kept a blind date that was destined to make history. Adapted for radio by Isabelle Layton and Milton Wayne, our play is based on the Saturday Evening Post article by Bertram Fowler. Our star is Edward Arnold, who soon will be seen in Metro Golden Mayor's Technicolor production, Kismet. And now Cavalcade presents Edward Arnold as Captain John of the Merchant Ship Contessa in 12 Desperate Miles. Last fall it was and it struck us on our return voyage from a port in England to our home port of New York. No, I don't mean the storm, though that was bad enough, particularly for an old girl like the Contessa. What I mean that struck us is something you might call the lightning of destiny. I was in the wheelhouse with a maid trying to help her ride out the storm. Your things should hold together till we get there, Captain. Now, wouldn't that be a shameful end for the old girl after ducking subs for a whole year to just go quietly to the bottom of the storm? Well, I was down in the hole a little while ago. It's not so good. How bad? Six feet of water pumps just about holding it on. Well, as long as it isn't rising, that's something. Nothing much we can do about it but head into it and pray. Loose rivets, loose plates, leaky seams. She was never meant for this kind of work. Ah, the poor old Contessa. A bon-a-fault, that's what she is and that's all she was cut out for. It's a wonder she's held together as long as she has. Well, what's this? A radio message, sir. Just came in. Let's see it, Bill. I might have known it. What is it, sir? Change of orders, Mr. Padula. All the course for Newport News. Aye, aye, sir. Any idea what it means? I have, sir. These orders are from Army Service Forces and I have an idea it means trouble. Trouble? If I'd known then what I know now. But it wasn't until many days later that I even found out why my orders had been changed. It was the Army Service Forces, all right, and for a week around their headquarters, everyone had been going crazy. Yes, speaking. No, no, no. I tell you it's got to be a small ship. Can't draw more than 17 feet of water. Well, I've got to have it. I don't care if you have to build a lot of beaver board. I've got to have a ship that answers those specifications and I've got to have it in the port within the next 48 hours. Well, Colonel, you seem to have some kind of a problem. Problem? Well, it just so happens, Admiral, that I've had dumped in my lap a little problem that means the success or failure of the entire African invasion. That's all. Anything I can do? I don't know, Admiral. Somebody's got to do something and fast. To invade Africa, we've got to have a complete air umbrella over landing operation. Of course. All right, here's the map. Reference point, S-43. The only airfield available in the area. The field we've got to take for the invasion to be successful. That shouldn't offer so many difficulties. Long-range planes from England could do that. Yeah, but how do we supply them once they get there? How do we see that they have the ammunition and the bonds and the gas to do the job? By ship, I suppose. That's exactly. Do you see where that airfield is located? Do you see that river? The Sable. Do you know anything about it? Can't say that I do. Well, I do. It's about the nastiest little river I've ever heard of in my life. It's a raging torrent this time of the year, and yet there are places where it's only 17 feet deep. And I've got to get a ship full of explosives and high-octane gas up that river to the airfield, or we won't have a plane in the air over Casablanca. So you need a 5 or 6,000 ton boat that only draws 17 feet. And I need it now. Yeah, let's take a look at your shipping map. It's right here. Yeah, a taffy boy. What about it, Major? She's too far away, sir. It's no use. Yeah. Checked every ship on that map. Star of Sea long. Got the tonnage, sir. Brook W. Draws too much water. How about the Contessa? The Contessa? That wasn't there this morning, Major. No, sir. I thought she was lost. Ah, that's your ship, Colonel. 5,500 tons, 17-foot draft. And the best skipper on the North Atlantic. What's his name? Captain William John. Major? Yes, sir. Get off a radio message to Captain William John, SS Contessa. Tell him to change his course, make for Newport News. Tell him it's urgent. An emergency. We dragged the poor old Contessa into Newport News. There was fog, but not enough to hide her looks. Salt cake, rust-stained batter, the gallant willing old tub. What way out of her class. Not much between her and the junk heap, except the job that had to be done. We paid off the crew and I went up to the company office to see Tim Craig. Hiya, Captain. Oh, hello. Hello, Captain. Have a good voyage? Yeah, I'm pretty good. Wow, Captain John. Long time no see. Ah, plenty long time. Too long. I've just been looking over your log. It's not what you'd call dull reading. Well, it wasn't what you'd call a dull trip. From where I sit, your next one's no moonlight sail, either. What do you know about it? More than you do, I guess. Important war mission, a river in North Africa. Cargo of bombs and gasoline. Bombs, gasoline? Uh-huh. Oh, the poor old Contessa. From banana boat to a floating mine. That's not what you'd call the ideal cargo. Oh, I'm not objecting. Somebody's got to carry the stuff. When do we sail? No word at all. All we know is that they wanted to get you here in a tearing hurry. Soon enough, though, I suppose. Well, I can wait. It's been six months since I've seen my wife. I'd like to go home. Oh, well, the Contessa will eat up at least that and dry dock. Have a good rest, Captain. Thanks, Drake. I need it now. Standard Fruit Drake speaking. Oh, yes, Colonel. I'll be shutting off, then. Would you hold a moment, Colonel? Just a minute, Captain. I'm with you, Colonel. We've just paid off the cruiser. And we may be able to reach some of them with any luck. Yeah, but these men aren't on orders, you know. And I know it's important, but this is the first we've heard. Naturally, we'll do our best, sir. Goodbye. Well, I hope you've enjoyed your leave, Captain, because you've had it. Meaning what? You're due out of here in exactly 24 hours. 24 hours? Those are orders. But the Contessa needs a complete overhauling. They can't even load her in that time. The Army will put a 24-hour repair gang on her, another gang to load at the same time. They said they'd do whatever they could. And I suppose they'll get me a crew, too, huh? Great Scott. I forgot all about that. Yeah. Gary the Doc. I want to talk to Contessa. Is she connected? Okay, hurry it up. They've been paid off, haven't they? Of course they have. They're scattering from here to Boston right now. Hello. Padula? Drake? How many men still aboard? Thirty, huh? No, no, you hold them. You keep every one of them. Try to round up as many more as you can. All right, suppose not. You're sailing out again in 24 hours. Thirty men. Thirty men? What good are thirty men on a job like that? Seventy-five is an absolute minimum. Thirty men. Is all this about thirty men? Oh, Colonel, this is Captain John of the Contessa. How do you do, sir? The crew's been paid off and they've left the ship. Thirty men are all that's left aboard. Well, we'll have to locate them, that's all. The Contessa's got to sail. Your convoy leaves tomorrow night. Well, how do you suggest we find them, Colonel? Well, they have homes, don't they? Between trips? Only where the heart is, Colonel. There must be a way. There is. There's a chance anyway. Kim, you'd better set wires to every possible or impossible address that any of them left. Okay. We'll do a little giving to you. And sign my name, maybe that'll help. And tell them to get back here in double quick time. Attention, please. All maritime union men from the S.S. Contessa. You're wanted back aboard ship immediately. The wartime emergency. All men from the S.S. Contessa report at Newport News. All through that night they patched the ship. But there was no way of patching together a crew. Movie houses, missions, bars, maritime union, dance halls, Turkish bars. We tried them all. The next day was Sunday. We tried the churches where prayers were rising up for victory. In the driving rain and sleet, men jammed the Contessa with the tools of war. A hundred octane gasoline bombs and issue. In North Africa, men and war with for this cargo. And in the company office, we were waiting for a crew. Okay, Bert, shoot them right over. Don't lose them on the way. Thanks. Only found one more. An all night manhunt and still 18 to go. Captain, there's no more time left for any more of this cops and robbers. Well, we've done everything but Shanghai men off the streets. Hello. Yeah, sure. He's right here. For you, sir. Thanks. Yes, speaking. By whose orders did the convoy sail without her? The Admiral knew that cargo had to go. Oh, nonsense. She'll never catch up. She can't wait. Convoy or no convoy, she's got to sail. Well, Captain, your convoy is gone. So I gather the miniature ships loaded out. She goes. Not without a full crew. Are you implying you won't sail? Look, Colonel, all that holds the Contessa together is spit and a prayer. If I'm to get her through without convoy, I must have those team men. I want you to have them. Where are they coming from? I can't think of a place we haven't looked. I can. Two of them. The morgue and the jail. You say. That's not as funny as you think, Dick. I don't get it. Where's the jail? Well, if you say so, Colonel, right through here. They're not a very handsome lot, but if you want them, you're welcome to them. You'd better tell them what they want. All right. Quiet, men. Quiet. Now listen, you fellas. You're all in here for hitting the bottle or being too handy with your mitts. I don't say it's the worst jam a guy can get in, but it don't help. Now you're getting a chance to wipe it off your record. Captain John here, the Contessa, will give you the lowdown. Men, in a couple of hours, the Contessa's due to leave on a mission, a tough one. I'm short 18 hands. I need those men badly. Badly enough to wind up here looking for them in the middle of the night. Is the convoy here, Captain? No, we do it the hard way. There you have it. We've got a blind date. What are you carrying, Captain? Well, it's not bananas, but some place they're in an awful sweat to get it. When do we get back? Well, you boys know the score. Who's coming with me? Question, Sheriff. Yeah. Did I get back to my room in a trip or so? Now keep your nose clean. Well, I got three days coming to me on this trick. And what with the housing shortage? Well, Chris, you're in or out? I was born a sucker. I mean, put down John Marshak and you can count me in. I'll go with you. Put my name down. I'll go with you. With the wind and the rain lashing ad dex, the old Contessa slipped out into the Atlantic, a destiny in the hands of a stranger crew has ever put to sea. British, New Asians, Estonians, Danes, men of 17 different nations drawn from the reaches of the earth. Out onto the broad Atlantic with its floating mines, submarines, patrolling access planes. And we were alone five days, a week, 10 days. Well, we've made the first lap, Captain, all's well. Lieutenant Bixby. Yes, Captain. We're at our honorable point. No sign of our reception committee, sir. Well, the sealed orders will tell the story. Break them open. Right, sir. Now what have we got? Bad news, Lieutenant? Stuck here wide open for 22 hours before escort picked us up. The poor old Contessa. She nearly knocked herself out getting us here and now... And now we set. The subs out there, sir, is a traffic jam. We had all we need, just one little sub. Bombs, gasoline and ammunition. What a Fourth of July we'd make. So here we sit, eh, Captain? That's right. And I only hope we're still afloat when our gang comes looking for us. I'm the resurrection and the life. Whosoever believeth in me, though I be dead, yet shall he live. Hey, Mario, slow the praying, will ye? What's the matter? Nobody's dead yet. We don't think. Not when I pray. Yeah? The Captain will be glad to hear it. Lay off him, Pete. Well, 21 hours of praying is more than I can stand. Take it easy. A few more minutes and the escort will be here. Yeah. Only we won't be here to see it. Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop. All hands to the station, sounds good. All right. You are listening to 12 Desperate Miles starring Edward Arnold on the cavalcade of America, sponsored by DuPont, maker of better things for better living through chemistry. Captain John of the Merchantship Contessa has sailed with a vital cargo of ammunition and aviation gasoline for the North African invasion, braving the Atlantic alone without convoy. The lookout has just sighted a submarine. As our play continues, Captain John has sounded general alarm and the crew are at battle stations. Yeah, ducks in a shooting gallery. That's that step right up, gents. Hey, look, a plane. We are going to get it from full band bottom. Hey, it ain't for us. He's gone for a shot. That's all. That's the one we want. What? He dropped a depth bomb right on that shot. That's one sub whatever, Capot. Ahoy! Ship sighted. Ship sighted. Look, it's the escort. That's where the plane comes from. That's one from our escort base. Sure, the Marines are landing. Look there. They're running up there. Captain, the escort's signaling. They want to know, is there anything else before we pull out? Tell them no. I'm thanks for everything. Boy, that was a little too close for company. What'd I tell you? Suppose Mario don't pray, huh? They're answering, Captain. Hey, good luck and Godspeed. Good luck and Godspeed. We'll need it. The next day we reached the mouth of the Cebu River. It was as tricky and treacherous as a rattlesnake. We stood offshore at a mouth watching the surf break 20 feet high where the river poured the torrents of the sea. We'd come 2,000 miles for this, but I knew our last 12 miles, the last 12 desperate miles upstream to that airfield, were going to be the hardest. It was up to the old Contessa now. I stood on the bridge with Padula and Bixby, the first and second officers, as we started into the channel. You want me to take the hell on myself, Captain? I think maybe you're better, Mr. Padula. Keep her appointed to the port. Aye, aye, sir. The current's casting a broadside, sir. Starboard. Starboard here, sir. Heading for the sandbar, sir. That's starboard. How do I get that held up? Hold up. We've gone to clear it, sir. I don't know which of the rocks I'm worrying about. When she swings clear... What about, sir? I think we can ride over it. Engines full speed. More speed, sir. Going to clear, I think. Ease her off a little, Mr. Padula. Aye, aye, sir. She's over. Harder port now. Harder port, sir. Half speed. Aye, aye, sir. Pull her down hard. We've got to miss those rocks when she swings. Aye, aye, sir. She's swinging, sir. She'll never clear it. Reverse engines. Full speed astern. Full speed astern, sir. Oh, it's no use. She's going to get kicked the hell down anyway. Aye, sir. And pray. Here it goes. Well, we're still here, Captain. I can't imagine why. What's the damage, Chris? Ball plate's still hitting, sir. Water coming in forward hole. Will she hold together? If it don't get no worse, sir. Well, it can't be any worse. Nothing can. Mr. Padula, full speed ahead. Full speed ahead. But most of the time it was half speed, quarter speed. Fighting the current, feeling our way inch by inch it seemed. Finally mile by mile, four miles, six miles, nine miles. And then we ran into something that might well have proved faithful when our goal was almost in sight. You hear that, Mr. Bixby? Snipers. Snipers in the hills along the river. You'd better tell the men to take cover. What do I do, sir? I'll be all right. Get going. Aye, aye, sir. Kiss the deck, Sanders. That's rifle fire. You heard me. Saw the fire? You heard me. Down, down on the deck. Skip his orders. Aye, Mr. Padula. All right, sir. Well, I'm all right, too. It's not only the chance of the men getting hit, but one lucky shot in the right place into a gasoline drum, maybe. And we'd go up like a rocket. Yes, sir. I know, sir. There's nothing for it but to keep going, though, I guess. Only three more miles to go. After we're aground. Reverse engines, full speed astern. Full speed astern here. Full speed astern here, sir. Would you hold hard over, Mr. Padula? Aye, aye, sir. Are we moving? No, sir. I'm afraid we're hooked in tight this time. Only three miles to go. There's only one chance. When we get started upstream, the tide was high. Now it's low. If we're lucky, maybe she'll float off when the tide comes up again. Well, what about those snappers up in the hills, sir? That's what I'm thinking about. I guess we'd better have a little talk with the men. Come on. Come along. All right, men. Below deck. All hands below deck. The ship wants to say something to you. All right, everybody below deck. Come on. All right, men. Come on, come on. The double in here. Well, men, we're aground. There's nothing we can do except wait here until the tide floats us off, if it does. In the meantime, the local fifth column is taking part shots at us from the hills. I suppose you've also figured out that what would happen to this ship, to all of us, if one of those shots was lucky enough to hit in the right place, huh? Well, we're only three miles from our destination now. It's an airfield held by ourselves and our allies. It wouldn't be hard to make it through the brush. Anyone of you who wants to leave this ship now has my permission to do so. Just say the word. No one? Good. Now keep undercover. I don't want any dead heroes aboard my ship. I want light ones. We waited with those snipers bullets whining all around us, glancing off the side of the ship, embedding themselves in the superstructure, thinking that every one of them might be the end of the voids for all of us. Then the tide began to come up. It lifted us off the bottom. We started our engines to ease the old contest. Airspeed it is, sir. Starboard has hit Mr. Padula. Aye, sir. Coming free, sir. Steady as you go, steady. Tide's turning around. Hot starboard. Put it down hard. She's swinging the wrong way, sir. Heading downstream. We'll worry about that when we get her up low. Water speed, Mr. Padula. Aye, aye, sir. She's free, sir. We're full of ice. Yes, but we're heading down right where we came from. I don't see how we can ever turn around this river, sir. I don't intend to. Steady your helm. I think we got all this way, and now we can't make it. Who says we can't make it? We're making for the open sea right now, sir. There's no place to turn between here and the mouth of the river. Then we won't turn, Mr. Padula. By the Lord Harry, we haven't come this far to quit now. If we can't go forward, we'll back in the last three miles. Reverse your engines. Push me to stern. Just feel this old baby quivering and struggling. If she can hold together a little longer. Captain John, there's the airfield. There's the airfield. Hey, look out for that mud bar. That's not going to stop us now. Give her everything she's got. Engines full speed. Well, we're hard aground, sir. Well, it doesn't matter now. We made it. We made it. We made it. Look at all those brass hats on the shore waiting for us. Congratulations. Congratulations. Thank you, sir. Thank you. Captain, look at all those plays in the field. Home it to the pier. With the bellies hungry for our gets at ammunition. Mr. Padula, you may rig for unloading. Yes, crippled and soggy and weary, but with her cargo intact, the contessa came hindsight first to the airfield. She had reached her destination. The invasion of North Africa would have its air umbrella. The contessa had kept her blind date with history. Thank you, Edward Arnold. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Arnold will return to the microphone in just a few moments. Meanwhile, here is Gaine Whitman with a message from DuPont revealing how Rayon has gone to war. Strategic airfields on the fighting fronts, such as the one in our play tonight, must be supplied with gasoline, with ammunition, with spare motors and parts, with any number of things. For instance, parachute flares. One of the new ideas of the American Bomber Command is to send in a group of target spotting planes ahead of our bombers. The spotting planes guided by crack navigators locate a target exactly and drop flares in a ring around it. Then the following bombers coming in from all angles need only drop their blockbusters within the circle of brilliant white lights to blast the target. The parachutes carrying the larger flares are made of rayon. Not only the canopy, but the shroud lines, hems, reinforcing tapes. So are the chutes that carry fragmentation bombs. For greater accuracy and effectiveness, these are drop-cum planes flying only a hundred feet or so above the ground. But they explode with such tremendous violence that if they went off right away, they would riddle our own bombers flying just overhead. Even a plane traveling 300 miles an hour couldn't escape their bomb blast. So as the bombs leave the plane, a parachute opens and checks their speed, lowering them to the ground slowly enough to give the plane time to get away. Everybody thinks of rayon as a material for civilian clothing, but it should not be forgotten that the Army uses rayon for dozens of things, ranging from chevrons and hat bands to neck ties and summer uniforms. The Air Force uses rayon as an element in self-sealing gasoline tanks and in tow target sleeves. The Navy uses it to cover the wire cables that protect the ship against mines. And the DuPont Cordura high-tonacity rayon yarn that goes into tires for Army trucks goes also into these parachutes for players and fragmentation bombs. Dozens of valuable wartime jobs are handled by your old friend rayon. Fabrics, many of them, made of rayon yarn that comes to you in peacetime as one of the DuPont's better things for better living through chemistry. Here's a special message to everyone who plans to operate an automobile this winter. DuPont invites you to write for a copy of a new 32-page booklet entitled, Take Care of Your Cooling System. By means of amusing color illustrations and in language that's easily understood, this booklet will tell you how to avoid expensive, destructive trouble in your car's cooling system. A copy will be sent promptly without charge. Just mail a postcard with your name and address to the DuPont Company radio section, Wilmington, Delaware. And now here is the star of tonight's cavalcade, Mr. Edward Arnold. Thank you. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. The Navy needs men at sea, but many are forced to stay ashore to perform office work. That is why I'm introducing tonight's special guest in Virginia Lindsay of the waves. That stripe you wear on your arm entitles you to the same privileges and pay as a male officer in the Navy, doesn't it? That's correct, Mr. Arnold. The waves are on equal footing with the men of the Navy. And you perform many of the same jobs? Yes, sir. The waves are urgently needed as radio operators, weather observers, in aviation, and many other duties. The waves will take most women between 20 and 49 with two years of high school and no children under 18 and train them for these jobs. Besides being pleasant and well-paid work, we're doing something really important by releasing trained men to sea duty aboard the Navy's new ships. Well said, Ensign Lindsay. The Navy needs women now to release more men to man its new ships. Every eligible woman who is not now working in a defense plant should investigate her opportunities in the waves. Apply at your nearest Navy recruiting station and thank you. Next week, Cavalcade will bring you a story of wartime courage of a different kind. A warm human tale of two brothers, one of whom did not recognize a battlefield until he saw it through his brother's eyes. Our play is based on the new DuPont motion picture, Soldiers of the Soil. DuPont invites you to be with us again next week when the Cavalcade of America presents Soldiers of the Soil, a compelling story of great courage, a story of a man's decision to help win the war. The star of Soldiers of the Soil will be Russell Hayden, supported by the cast of the past motion picture of the same name. Its musical score was composed and conducted by Robert Armbruster. Cavalcade is pleased to tell its listeners that Edward Arnold may soon be seen in the Metro-Goldwyn-Mare Technicolor production, Kiss Match. This is James Bannon sending best wishes from the Cavalcade sponsor, the DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware. The Cavalcade of America, thank you from Hollywood. This is the National Broadcasting Company.
