The Cabalcade of America, sponsored by DuPont, maker of better things for better living through chemistry, presents Richard Conte and Stuart Irwin in Tokyo's Fairhand. Before we begin our play, we want to remind you of DuPont's Speed-Easy wall finish. The new wall paint that will help you to do a good job if you're planning to redecorate a room in your home. Just thin Speed-Easy with water. It covers walls with one quick coat, even covers dingy wallpaper. For less than three dollars, you can make your room look like new with DuPont Speed-Easy. Tonight's DuPont Cabalcade is the story of a company of American infantry, 82 men from Michigan led by a sergeant who in the darkest hours of the Pacific campaign fought not only against a human enemy, but against cold and heat, hunger, sickness, and despair, and who by a fabulous march across the own Stanley Mountains of New Guinea turned the tide against the Japanese invaders. Our story, written by Bernard Fiennes and Russell Hughes, is a salute to the American infantry. Only recently has the infantry begun to receive the recognition it merits, and the celebration of Infantry Day on June 15th marked a long step forward in appreciation of the magnificent job the hundreds of thousands of our soldiers who must fight on foot have done and are doing. DuPont presents Richard Conte as Sergeant Paul Lujans and Stuart Irwin as Hibby Davidson, his buddy, in Tokyo Spearhead on the cavalcade of America. The earth turns toward the east. The sun rides over. The earth dips into the cool of dusk. This is the measure of time, so that east, the way the earth turns, it is later. Ours is a sweet familiar land where it is now, today. But ships move east from our continent and men move east to battle, east to England, east to the brown beaches near Sherbrooke. There is blood on those beaches, and time is later there. And it is later still east over Burma, where the sun is high, 14 and a half hours later by the clock, 15 hours later in Chungking. From these shores to the beaches, uplands, plains of a global war, men have gone in time, around the clock, and beyond. For east of the Indian Ocean, east of the equatorial countercurrent, midway between the southern and northern limit of palms, is the east that is west, today, now, where it is always tomorrow. New Guinea, emerald green, white coral beaches, an island wrapped in the Blue Pacific, washed by the clean surf, lying in the path of trade winds and the monsoon, south of the equator, north of the Tropic of Capricorn, west of the International Dateline. New Guinea, beyond time, an island of deep jungle, the monsoon forest. And men went there, for there was battle in New Guinea, battle moving north and west against the island empire of Japan. These were the men from Michigan, Company E, who waited in the steam and stench of the resonant jungle, listening to the creep of lamb crabs, the wild singing of crickets, the voice of the alien wilderness, waited for orders. It was September 1942. The Japanese were pressing on Port Moresby, 250 miles from the Allied supply lines in the Pacific. And on September 15th, Sergeant Paul Luchien's commanding Company E wrote in his diary, Orders today for Company E. Not much of a job for a fighting outfit, and it means more jungle. The men are sick of it, and I am too. But we've been waiting orders, and now we've got them. They got their orders, to build a road through the jungle from Port Moresby down the coast to Kapa Kapa, half a mile a day through jungle, no more. They fought the serrated tangle of vines and trees, swamp underfoot. And the nights came quickly with rain, and the mornings with rain too. And in two weeks, they had carved a trail through Nepeyana. Okay men, we'll stop here. You can find a dry spot, sit down and take it easy. What's up, Sarge? Got new orders, heavy. This time it's not road building. Well, that's more like it. Back to the coast, Luch? No, we're moving out. Where to, Luch? Over the mountains to the other side, heavy, to a place called Boona. But Sarge, one of those mountains is 19,000 feet high. Not where we cross, but it won't be easy. When, when do we start? Right now. We carry six days rations. One pound of rice, green tea, sugar, and two cans of bully beef. Any questions? What equipment? Helmet, rifle, a spoon. Take your shelter half to roll up and for sleeping. You can check off your list now. Luch. Yes, Larry. I'm going back, Luch. I'm not going with you. What are you talking about? Just a minute, heavy. Larry. I can't go on, Luch. I can't stand it here. I never see in the sun. I'm being wet all the time. And the bugs. I can't breathe down here in the bottom of this jungle. You're in the army, Larry. But this isn't fighting. I'd fight. I'd fight anything I could see. Larry, if you're in the army, you fight the enemy. In New Guinea, the enemy seems to be mostly inside ourselves. So we'll fight that too. The enemy inside themselves, the dark enemy of their own fear. These were men from Michigan, open fields and lakes, clean towns, and the enemy was green and dim and dank. The leech-infested jungle of New Guinea. Swamp pulled at their feet, vines and leaves tore their hands and faces, and despair stalked their hearts. It was heavy going for company. Okay, men, close it up. They're strung out a couple of miles, Sarge. We'll have to stop early tonight. Let them all catch up. We don't want to be spread out if we run into japs. Japs nuts. I'll give you a 10 to 1. There's not a jab from here to Tokyo. Don't slap the leeches off our burner maw. Hibby. Yes, Looch. What's up? You check on sickness, Hibby? The two boys with sprained ankles are having a bad time, Looch. Then there's Larry. What about him? He says he has fever. Did you give him quinine? That kid doesn't have fever, Looch. He's just stir crazy. Look, Hibby, that's not for you to say. Well, okay. Well, we don't have a lot of quinine. You know what, Looch? What? You should have let him go back from Nepeana. Oh, you know I couldn't do that. Larry's young and it's harder for him, but he'll do a job. Uh-oh. Here comes the rain. We stop now, Sarge? Might as well. We've done nearly two miles today. Pass the word back, Hibby. Okay, Looch. And tell them to dig in fast. We've got a half an hour before it's dark. No more. That night rolled in their foxholes, their sleeping faces washed by the warm rain. The enemy still was fear, for jungle nights were palpable with sound. Frogs and birds and creeping things. Somewhere an ancient tree fell, and somewhere sometimes there was a sound like distant drums. But they were blind, even to their own hands, and some of them did not sleep. Hey, Looch. Looch. Yes, who is it? Me, Hibby. Say, where are you? Right here. Here's my hand. Oh, yeah, yeah, I got it. I didn't wake you, did I? No, I was awake. Something on your mind? Nothing special. Just jumpy. You got any idea where we are? Some. I figure we're close to the Owen Stanley mountains. Will we? Will we climb out of the jungle? I don't know. Is it getting you now, Hibby? Some. But mostly it's the kid, Larry. He cried himself to sleep tonight. Yes, I heard him. And he talks so much. Says we're buried alive, or that we're being watched. Well, we may be watched. Today I saw something moving and had a feeling about it. A jab? I don't even know that it was a man. Didn't want to scare the men. There's no harm in your being prepared. Yeah. It's funny about cigarettes. What's that? When you can't see the smoke, they don't, they taste different. You ever notice? Now that you mention it. Looch! Lay low! Hey, what's up? I don't know. I'll try to find out. Wait here. Okay. Hurry back, Looch. Who is it? Who is it? I'm gonna find out. Easy, Larry, easy. It's me, Looch. Did you fire just now? Looch, something came at me. I felt something sharp on my neck. I thought it was a jab. He had a knife. Was it you who yelled? I guess so. You know what that was on your neck, Larry? No, Looch. It felt like... It was a land crab crawling in to sleep with you. I've had it happen to me too. Land crab? That's all. So you can go back to sleep, kid. Looch, I'm no good. I'm not getting better. I keep on being scared. We're all scared, Larry. Every one of us. This isn't a friendly place. But I... I'm gonna crack up, Looch. I won't make it. I know. You'll make it, kid. It's the hardest thing of all, fighting your own fear. But when you do and win, you're a man. Get some sleep now. You'll feel better tomorrow. Hey, Fredericks. Yeah? Tell us about your farm back home. Oh, I told you. Tell us what you raised on it. I'll make him tell it again. About the potatoes. I told you about it. Well, just tell us again what they tasted like. Look, I'm with Larry on this. It just makes me hungry. I only want him to go as far as the ham. Why don't you settle for Looch's story about college? The football game. Yeah. Well, all right. Hey, Looch. Yes, Hivvy. What do you want? I'm giving up Fredericks' turkey dinner for a nice snowy football game. You flatter me, Hivvy. But it'll have to wait. Oh, come on. We ought to get one mile further before dark so we can get to the mountains tomorrow. One mile took five hours. One mile took five hours. They hacked a gap through the boundless green and passed on. And sometimes they felt that the wall closed again behind them, but there was no way back. On October 12th, Sergeant Looch's wrote again in his diary. We've been on this trail three weeks. It's slow going. But today we had luck. We picked up a native who speaks a little pidgin English. He told us about the trail. You, you sure this is trail? He got. What's he saying, Looch? Must mean yes. At least he's nodding his head. You, fella, we want to cross mountains to other side. Savvy? Me Savvy. He me stop along hop. That's great. Makes good sense. Now wait a minute. Look, you. We go upside of mountain here. Savvy? No. No got. Is this the trail? No got. Bad place. Ghost mountain. Not go here. Come alongside place. Not here. We're going over here. Ghost mountain. Bad place. You die. Look, Looch, do we have to go over here? There's some kind of a trail. It's on the chart and it's the only place to try. No, no got. No got. Well, this cookie doesn't like it. You'll never get him to go with us. And we'll do it alone. It's our orders and there's food on the other side. Pass the word back. We start climbing. Okay, Sarge. And tell the men to keep close and keep moving and that there aren't any elevators. You are listening to Richard Conte as Sergeant Paul Loochens and Stuart Erwin as Hibby Davidson in Tokyo Spearhead on the Cavalcade of America sponsored by DuPont, maker of Better Things for Better Living through Chemistry. Among these better things is Cordura rayon yarn used in peacetime for sturdy trucks and bus tires and today in tires for bombers and army rolling equipment and the parachutes for flares, cargo and fragmentation bombs. As this evening's DuPont Cavalcade continues, Company E of the American 126th Infantry led by Sergeant Paul Loochens played by Richard Conte and Hibby Davidson, his buddy played by Stuart Erwin, are climbing over the Owen Stanley Mountains of New Guinea. Jungle gave way to a limitless billower fog and sound died away. The voice of the jungle. No birds cried out in the mountains. Nothing moved. It was a dead land. The men of Company E strained upward through the white air. Their voices died and they spoke softly. I begin to see why the native call this Ghost Mountain. Yeah, it's too quiet. Just listen. Can't even hear the guys walking. This moss must be three feet thick. What gets me it's, it's white moss. Art. Yes Sarge, what do you want? Art, would you stand here and as the men come by, tell them again about not stopping yet. Yeah, I know. If you walk, you sweat. If you stop, you freeze to death. Try to catch up later Art and send Larry up front. He's just a few yards back. Okay Sarge. Okay Hibby, let's push on. We must be near the top. Say, do you hear something? No, I don't think so. Listen Looch. Yes, now I do. It's water. Looch, we ought to try to get some. Yeah, it sounds like it's over this way. Yeah, I can't see anything. It must be. Hey, hey, hey. Here, grab my hand. Here, help me. All right. You pull me back. Got you. What happened Hibby? The, the moss slipped. Looch, look, we're walking on a ridge. One bad step and oh boy. Yeah, the drop off here is probably 2,000 feet. What's the matter Looch? Hibby yelled. Hey, he slipped. See over there? I'm glad you came up Larry. We've got to keep closer together. How about the water Looch? We can't look for her. Too dangerous. Come on. How you feeling Larry? Pretty good. I mean, fever's bad. I feel sick but really better. The fever's worse but I feel better. That don't make sense. Well, it's like Looch was telling me a few nights back about being scared. Every day I get through, I know I'm winning. I don't do anything else on this trip. I'll lick it. That's the stuff Larry. Say, do you feel a breeze? Well, yeah, it's warm and the fog's moving. Why, why, you know what's happened? What is it Looch? We're going down. Yeah, we've crossed the top. The worst is over. Yeah, yeah, the worst is over. The rest of the way was easy going down. They walked nights and days down from the cold and on the edge of chasms and on the other side heat and rain, the vibrant singing voice of the jungle claimed them again. They pushed on, established contact with their battalion. That meant food and equipment. Then they rested for many of them were sick. How's the kid now, hippie? No better. I don't think he'll last much longer Looch. His fever's bad. Is he taking the quinine, Ot? Sure, he's had enough for 10 men, but it's no good. I'll take a look at him. Looch, Looch. Yes, kid. You, you okay, Looch? Sure, I'm swell. How about you? I don't know, Looch. I think I'm dying. No, Larry, you're going to show all of us. But Looch, I don't mind. Oh, you'll be okay. I've been thinking, Looch, all your life, no matter what you do, you're getting ready to do one thing, getting ready to die well. What do you mean, kid? It's like you told me about being scared. No matter what else you do, Looch, if you like that before you die, it's something. Tell the guys I said it, Looch, that it's not bad to die if you're not scared. I'm glad I was. His grave was shallow and the green swamp water poured in. Birds whose harsh cries sounded over him were not from Michigan, nor were the flying foxes and the bright deophonous bees. They buried him where no sun shone and where the rain washed down season to season. Yet he went home, home in the deep communion of all men who die for freedom in an alien land. October 20th, new orders. Reconnaissance and force toward Boona Village. It took us eight hours to go the first 800 yards. But then we were really pinned down by a jacked pillbox. Looch, we gotta get that pillbox if we're gonna make headway. Yeah, but how? You bring up the flamethrowers for cover. Two guys and me could knock it out. It might work. Sure it'll work. Okay? Okay, I'll go with you. No, sir, you command this outfit. Just cover us with those flamethrowers and it'll be a cinch. Then the rest of you can come in after us. It was a good plan. Hibby and the two men went in and they were halfway there when the flamethrowers went haywire. But Hibby went on through and the pillbox was dead. For a minute the jungle was quiet and rifle fire started and we went in against it. Art, Art, keep low, you fool. Okay, Sergeant. Help Curtis deploy around to the left and watch him snipe us. Right, Looch. If you see anything of Hibby, let me know. Hibby? Why, he's... Hey, Looch, let down. Sergeant, Looch, where are you? Over here, Art. I... I was hit. I... I saw it coming. I tried... What... what was it, Art? That champ with a hand grenade. I got him but it was too late. Where... where you hurt, Sergeant? It's my legs. I'm afraid to... Are they? They're still there, Looch. Just... just feel. Yeah, they're still there. I was afraid... You got some shrapnel though. Yes, I... I know. But I guess I'm gonna live. They got Hibby, Looch. Oh, after the pill box. They stopped a few going in. But he got there. They knocked him out before he died. He was a... a darn good soldier. Yeah. Hey, look, Sergeant, I'll... I'll fix you up with sulfon morphine. There'll be a stretcher coming in for you. Okay, Art, thanks. You know, Sarge, knocking off a boon, there's no snap. Knocking off a boon, there's no snap. No, you're right. But it's going to be a big war, Art. Yeah, sure. It's going to be bigger than crossing mountains or taking boon, or getting a clear across Europe. And there'll be no snap. But out here, I guess we took the first step. Step. It is a big war. And it was the first step. The step that led this week a thousand miles past Boona to the island of Saipan. There are dark places on the earth. And men have gone there from our land. Gone east and west to loneliness and fear. And sometimes death. And they have gone, in truth, beyond the limits of time. For they bring home tomorrow. Thank you, Richard Conte and Stuart Irwin, for joining in Cavalcade's Tribute. To the men of the American infantry. Now, Gaine Whitman, speaking for DuPont, tells you of an unusual use for nylon. One reason the war is a mountain-sized job, is that the mountain is made up of thousands upon thousands of details. In 1943, for instance, the Army service forces shipped abroad 21,000 boxcars, 17 million neckties, and 617 million sulfideazine tablets. To name only three items. Often, a thing that seems insignificant, like, well, shoelaces, turns out to have an importance beyond all reckoning, when it actually goes into combat duty at the front. Here at home, even those of us who live in the deep south, have no idea of the unbelievable humidity of the tropics, where so many of our troops are fighting. Cloth can go to pieces in a few weeks from the dampness. And so can ordinary woven shoelaces. And shoes without shoelaces are no good when you're wading through a swamp. Blood-sucking leeches crawl through the eyelet holes, or your shoe fills with mud, and you lose it altogether. Shortly after our troops first landed in the South Seas, word came back, send us shoelaces that will stand up under this climate. The material that stood up under the climate, and that is still taking it out there, is nylon. Nylon shoelaces for jungle fighting are one more reason why there's no nylon in wartime for hosiery for you. They are now used in practically all Army shoes. And the same characteristics which make nylon so acceptable for hoes, make it invaluable for military use. And it's used only when no other material proves effective, reports the Army Quartermaster Depot. You can see from this report, how our services guard their supply of this valuable material. Nylon is fighting dampness and humidity in the jungles, in ponchos for shelter tents, raincoats, foxhole covers, and bedding rolls. Insects are warded off by nylon hammock screens. Supplying nylon for shoelaces and these other war uses is a typical contribution of chemical science and DuPont, better things for better living through the war. And the same for better living through chemistry. Tonight marks the second week in our fifth war loan drive. Our fighting men all over the world are striving and dying for victory, a victory that will not come cheaply nor easily. We here at home have a continuing obligation to give them all our moral and material support. We can help now tonight by buying an extra war bond, back the attack by more than before. Next Monday evening, Cavalcade presents Herbert Marshall in What Price Freedom? A dramatic story out of the war of the revolution, out of a period in that war when victory and freedom were almost lost through lack of money, and how largely through the efforts of one man, Robert Morris, the money was raised to meet the cost of freedom. Next Monday evening, Cavalcade will also have the special privilege of presenting Secretary of the Treasury Henry Morgenthau, the man who in these times is carrying forward the task of raising the funds for our present fight for freedom. Cavalcade is pleased to remind its audience that Richard Conte appeared through the courtesy of 20th Century Fox, producers of the Technicolor production, Wilson. Tonight's Cavalcade music was composed and conducted by Robert Armbruster. This is James Bannon sending best wishes from Cavalcade sponsor, the DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware, and inviting you to listen to Cavalcade next week, starring Herbert Marshall in What Price Freedom? Monday night is good listening on NBC. For your further pleasure, may we suggest that you stay tuned for the Firestone program, the Bell Telephone Hour, and information please which follow over most of these stations. The Cavalcade of America sponsored by DuPont came to you from Hollywood. This is the National Broadcast Service, the National Broadcasting Company.
