 The Cavalcade of America sponsored by E.I. DuPont de Nemoursen Company of Wilmington, Delaware, maker of better things for better living through chemistry, presents the conquest of quinine with House Jameson as the narrator. Before we begin our play, here's some good news about neoprene synthetic rubber. Some DuPont neoprene has now been made available to rubber thread manufacturers for girdles. As you probably know, our armed forces are making good use of most of the neoprene DuPont can produce. Aircraft engine hose, airplane parts, gas masks, and protective coverings for Army and Navy communication wiring are just a few of the thousands of wartime uses for neoprene. But the supply of this DuPont chemical rubber is now large enough to divert a limited amount to the manufacture of girdles. Girdles with stretch because they are made of DuPont neoprene. And now for our play. Tonight Cavalcade presents the story of a victory that ranks as a truly great scientific achievement. A victory won after more than a hundred years of search and struggle and personal sacrifice. Our play written by Arthur Arrant is the story of man's attempts over the years to make quinine synthetically or to develop a substitute. Only this year two American scientists have finally succeeded where so many have failed. They have accomplished the total synthesis of quinine. Their work carried on at Harvard University was initiated and sponsored by the Polaroid Corporation. The DuPont company presents the conquest of quinine with House Jameson as the narrator on the Cavalcade of America. This is the story of a disease that has killed and is still killing more people than the plague than cancer than heart disease or any other ill yet visited upon mankind. Yes, even war. Year by year since the dawn of recorded history, enough men, women and children have died of this terrible disease to populate a brand new world. If these millions of dead could come to life again today, now, it is safe to say they would demand one thing of their brave new world. Let there be, they would say, butterflies and helicopters, palm granites and plastics, but no mosquitoes. For the disease they died of is malaria. Malaria. The word designates a group of chronic infections of vertebrates produced by the protozoan parasites, plasmodii, the three species of which I would call your attention being falciparum vivax. Thank you very much, professor. Ladies and gentlemen, what the professor is saying is that malaria is caused by a parasite. A mosquito bites a man that has malaria and then he bites you and pretty soon you've got malaria too. Isn't that correct, sir? Yes, quite. The cure for malaria is quinine. In the history of chemotherapy, numerous attempts at synthesis were made with only partial success until very recently when total synthesis was achieved. That's all. Thank you very much, sir. It has taken you exactly 29 seconds to tell the story of the first specific known to medicine of the miracle drug that has saved in the course of centuries untold hundreds of millions of lives. And now, if you don't mind, I'd like to tell it my way, right from the beginning. In the year 1638, the viceroy of the great colony of Spanish America was one Don Luis Fernandes Mendoza, Count of Chinchon. The Count was very happy with his post in South America. He had a beautiful young wife. Lima was a cosmopolitan city. The Indians didn't know too much and a great deal of gold and silver was being shipped back to Spain. And then one day, the beautiful young wife awoke before Don raving deliriously for water. The viceregal physician was summoned. He examined the Countess. Your Excellency. Well, don't stand there looking at me. What is it? Your Excellency, I am not quite sure. I must have further details. Details? What kind of details? Do you ask the date of her birth, the color of her eyes, when she lies there dying? No. On the contrary, it's quite another detail that I'm interested in. When I arrived just now... When you arrived just now, my wife was delirious. She shrieked to God for water and her body was burning. Exactly. And before I arrived... Before you arrived, she suffered so fire and a chill that the bed shook. Thank you. That is all I wish to know. Your Excellency, it is the egg you. Egg you? The egg you, eh? Well, what are you waiting for? Get your herbs and bottles and prepare the cure. She will die, Your Excellency. There is no cure. On the sixth night the chills and fever were so severe and the delirium so prolonged that all hope was abandoned. It was just before dawn that an Indian arrived from the hills far to the north. He carried a message from the Spanish magistrate at Loja. Your Highness, with respect and deep humility, I send you these pieces of bark from the queen quina tree, which, as you may have heard, is abundant in this district. If it be powered into a strong wine, and if it please all mighty God, the resultant potion will cure your beloved countess of this deadly marriage. Well, physician, what say you of this? I am against it, Your Excellency. Indeed. And what do you suggest in this place? I, eh, Your Excellency, this so-called queen quina bark is unknown to me. In Spain, in all Europe, there's no record of its existence. Furthermore... Continue. The great Galen, father of medicine, does not list it in his index of the 300 cures. And therefore it does not exist. Very interesting. If I could have a little time perhaps to study... I am interested in prolonging the existence of my wife, not the advancement of medicine. But I cannot assume the responsibility. I will assume the responsibility. Prepare the potion. The bark of the mysterious quenquina tree was prepared according to directions and given to the countess. Every few hours for two days, the dose was repeated. And at the end of the second day, a miracle occurred. The chills and fever slackened. The delirium disappeared. Some weeks later, the countess was well enough to approach her husband with a most interesting project. Now that I'm well enough to travel, I'm going back to Madrid. And with me, as my dearest possession, I shall take a packet of this miraculous specific. All Spain, all Europe, shall learn the wonder that God has seen fit to store in the bark of a tree. Thus the tiny packet of bark from the quenquina tree went on to Spain, where its value as a cure for malaria, then known as the ague, was quickly proven. In honor of the countess, Batonis changed the name of the bark. It was hereafter to be known as Sincona. It wasn't until two centuries later that doctors and chemists became curious about this Peruvian bark. They knew it cured malaria. But how? And why? And what made it work? It was in 1820 that the first experiment was made by two French chemists. My dear Kavantu, up to now we've extracted gray Sincona bark with alcohol. We added water and potash, and what have we got? A clear solution containing crystals. Exactly. Crystals, all white and shining and very pretty to look at. But they don't cure malaria. They don't cure anything. And so I suggest we forget all about it. Let's just go on to... One moment. Think, Pilatier, what it would mean if we could discover what there is in this Sincona bark that cures. I have thought about it. Nevertheless... I beg you, Pierre, what we have got up to now... Which is exactly nothing. We got from gray Sincona bark. Before we give up, let us try the whole thing over again on the yellow. I ask you, Joseph, what difference will that make? It is known that these Sincona barks differ. Perhaps the yellow is better, perhaps if we... Oh, very well, Joseph. Hand me that strip of yellow Sincona. Let's see now. We extracted yellow Sincona with alcohol. It was done. We added water and potash. Done. And now we look for white crystals. Well, there are none, Pierre. No crystals? What we have produced is a white powder. It will not crystallize. Pierre, Pierre, do you suppose... I... I don't know. We must be careful. We will test its solubility in acid and alcohol. We will then send a specimen to all doctors in the Paris area, advising them to join prudence to sagacity in testing it on human beings. And Pierre, I have already thought of a name for it. Since it comes from the Quintina tree, let us call it Quineen. And thus, from the bark of a tree was isolated the magic power that cured malaria. By the middle of the 19th century, quinine was recognized throughout the world. It was potent. It was the malaria cure. But it was also scarce and expensive and millions of dollars. In 1850, the French Society of Pharmacy announced a competition to the chemists of the world, whereas it has long been of the utmost importance that a synthesis for quinine be found, whereas this synthetic must, beyond doubt, be possessed of the same therapeutic effect, whereas the cost of its production must be appreciably reduced. Therefore, we, the French Society of Pharmacy, do make this appeal to the world of science, offering a prize of 4,000 francs to the chemist who will discover the means of preparing quinine artificially. I say, have you heard this French Society competition? We will follow the course set by Pelletier and Cavantoux. France shall have the honor. Today, we begin work on quinine synthesis. We will show the world what German chemistry can do. 4,000 francs, eh? What's more, I'll go to work on it today. Yes, they went to work on it. Even Pasteur was interested. I wish to report the extraction of an alkaloid from Sincone Barc. I have called this alkaloid quinotoxin. And there they stopped. Even the great Pasteur, it was apparent, could go no further. And the prize offered by the French Society of Pharmacy was never won. But one of the experiments performed in this competition was to confound the world of chemistry and create a new industry. This discovery of such tremendous importance was arrived at by sheerst accident. Listener, follow this closely. For the date of this experiment, 1856 is the beginning of a cycle of experimentation that was completed in our time. Only three months ago, in April 1944, with the final triumphant long sought-after total synthesis of quinine. The cycle begins at the Royal College of Chemistry in London, an old professor and a young student. Perkin? Perkin? William Henry Perkin. Oh, yes, Professor Hoffman. Going home for your Easter holiday, William? Yes, Professor, to work. I've a laboratory at home, you know. What are you going to work on? Oh, I don't know. Anything that strikes my fancy, just so long as it's chemistry. William, why not put your holiday to real use by going after something specific? Such as? Such as quinine. You've heard, of course, of this French competition. Why not get into it? Everybody else is already. Quinine, eh? Well, what did you have in mind to produce it from? Coal tar. Coal tar? You mean that stuff that distillers will pay you to cut away that stinking, nauseating mess? Exactly, William. That stinking, nauseating mess. William, that stuff smells. What is it? Coal tar derivative. What is that? One of the chemicals that comes from Coal tar. Now, keep quiet and watch. If this turns white, maybe I've got something quiet now. It's black. It's turning black. Yes, it is. Now, let's see. I've tried toluidine with potassium dichromate. I've tried sulfate of... Alice, didn't I tell you never to touch this? Look at my football. Well, it serves you right. Next time, you'll know better than to... Did you say purple? Yeah, let me look at that. My shoes, too. Oh, that's strange. Very strange. Now, I wonder why it turned purple. Within a week, William Henry Perkin found out. The Coal tar derivative he'd used on that last experiment was...Analyn. And this 18-year-old boy thus became the discoverer of the first of the now famous Annalyn dyes. They revolutionized an industry. But more important, in the mad stampede that followed Perkin's discovery, the goal of the world's chemists to create an artificial quinine went down. Scuttled. A lost cause. You are listening to the conquest of quinine with House Jameson as the narrator on the Cavalcade of America sponsored by E.I. DuPont de Nemours and Company of Wilmington, Delaware, maker of better things for better living through chemistry. Our Cavalcade play this evening is the story of man's engrossing struggle down through the years to find a remedy for the dread disease malaria. In 1856 William Henry Perkin, an English chemist seeking a synthetic quinine out of Coal tar, discovered instead the first of the Annalyn dyes and the world's chemists turned from the problems of quinine to the new field. The years went by. Seedlings of the now famous synchronous tree were transported from South America and planted in the soil of the Dutch East Indies. Thus was the supply of quinine increased and the cost lowered, but never enough to fill the demand of the millions throughout the world. And the chemists, what were they doing all this time? My name is Herr Strecker. I have determined the composition of the quinine molecule. It consists of 20 carbon, 24 hydrogen, two oxygen, and two nitrogen atoms. This fellow Strecker merely started things, you know. Others came along who made use of his discovery. Fellows like Kraup and Koenigs, for instance, they isolated the various quinine units and then the German chemist, Herr Rabe, made his famous experiment. I wish to announce that I have succeeded in turning back into quinine, the alkaloid quinotoxine which Pasteur extracted in 1853. That was a partial synthesis. And now let me tell you about a new drug. It was invented by two German chemists, Mieschen Maus, and it was called... Atabren. This new drug we have created is based on an acridine dye. It is only distantly related to quinine, but it does kill malaria parasites. Atabren, as you know, soon became the universally accepted man-created cure for malaria. It had certain toxic qualities, but proper care and supervision held them down to a minimum. But the dream of every chemist, the perfect and total synthesis of quinine, seemed as far away as ever. On December 7, 1941, 95% of the world's supply of quinine came from the Dutch East Indies. By April of the following year, the Japs had moved in and the supply was shut off. The army and navy of the United States had large stocks of quinine on hand, but nobody was sure how long the war would last. And so among those who went to work on the age-old riddle were two American scientists. The year is 1943, the month February, the place Harvard University. If we could look in on two young scientists, we might hear an interesting conversation. Well, Daring, I've worked out a tentative blueprint for this thing. Good. It'll be a nice change, Woodward, after this hush-hush stuff we've been doing for the government. Maybe you won't think so after we begin banging our heads on this quinine business. No. In the beginning, everything looks rosy. Well, where do we start? Remember Quinotoxin? Pasteur, 1853. He extracted it from Sincona. Right. And in 1918, Robber made quinine from Quinotoxin. Sure, but he had to use plenty of real quinine to do it. Now, if we could make synthetic quinotoxin, we'd be a lot nearer to synthetic quinine, right? Now, half the quinotoxin molecule has already been duplicated. Let's go after the other half. Okay. What do we start with? Daring, I'm suggesting we start with benzaldehyde. Benzaldehyde. Listener, stop a moment and consider. Benzaldehyde is produced from coal tar. Coal tar. Remember William Henry Perkin? He went looking for quinine and discovered aniline dyes. And now, almost a hundred years later, Robert B. Woodward and William E. Daring, still searching for a total synthesis of quinine, seek out the answer in exactly the same substance, coal tar, that stinking, nauseating mess, as Perkin called it. Thus the cycle draws to its close. The first step was achieved in a month. From now on, it was to be the old chemical formula of trial and error. Red eyes, dead with fatigue, and an unspoken prayer every night when they crawled into bed. The next steps took longer, and soon the laboratory was filled with bottles of crystals, beautiful crystals. I'd say we're doing all right. Now the next step. Say, Bill, what's on your mind? Well, Bob, something's come up. Oh? Yeah, my appointment to teach at Columbia came through today. Say, that's great. Congratulations. Thanks. But what about us? I'm worried how we'll arrange it with me in New York and you up here in Cambridge. Look, we'll both go on just as we were. They played chess by telephone, don't they? Well, we'll coordinate our research the same way. Whenever you change the structure, call me up. When I add or subtract something, I'll let you know. Fine. I'll come up Christmas and Eastern. We'll really tear things apart. Certainly. Now let's get back to work. Step by step in the months rolled by. It was April 11th, 1944, 14 months after the experiment had begun. The doubting had come up to Cambridge that he and Woodward might work out this final step together. How long we've been at it? Almost a week, I guess. 9.30 a.m. to 4.30 a.m. and back again at 9.30. I mix, you stir, I boil. Well, let's do a different today. You mix, I stir, and you boil. Okay. Now let's go over this again. We've duplicated the two halves of the quinine molecule and combined them, and all we got was a yellow oil, quinatoxin. We used Robber's method and then dropped in a few natural quinine crystals because sometimes they act like seeds and make other crystals, but nothing happened. Let's do it over again, see what happens. All over again, the yellow oil, the natural crystals, mix, stir, boil, and cool. And suddenly, they had a quarter of a gram of fluffy, faintly yellow, needle-like crystals. They put them through several tests and then Woodward looked at Dering and Dering looked at Woodward. Well, what do you think? So far so good. Yeah, too good, maybe. We've still got to measure the rotation of the crystals. The final and conclusive test, as my old professor used to say. If it comes out right, we've got something. And if it doesn't, well, no use postponing the verdict. Want me to take it into the dark room and measure them? Uh-huh. Hey, you're not nervous, are you? Get out of here. Maybe you'd like to take a little nap or something. Maybe you ought to rest. Go on. Okay. Okay, I'm going. Keep your fingers crossed. Woodward. Well? Well? The rotation came out absolutely correct. We've done it. This is it, I tell you. This is it. Hey, quit pumping my hand like that. You'll shake it right off. The end of the trail had been reached after almost a hundred years. There were many milestones along the way put there by such men as Pasteur and Perkin and Strecker and Robber and many others. And now the cycle is completed. The riddle has been solved. In the May issue of the Journal of the American Chemical Society, there appeared the following announcement. We wish to record the first total synthesis of quinine. It was signed R. B. Woodward and W. E. Dering. Thank you, House Jameson and members of the Cattlecade cast. Now here is Ted Pearson speaking for the DuPont Company. An American LCT nosed in toward the island of Elba, where Napoleon was once imprisoned. And war correspondent Sedgwick of the New York Times pecked at his battered typewriter. He wrote, At dawn enemy shells were falling about the armada of landing craft. Smoke shells were being fired by our ships in great quantities. And containers of canned mist would drop from the sterns of the fast scurrying vessels so that the operation finally successful was carried out in something resembling a London fog, unquote. Chemical smoke is really a lot thicker than a London fog, so thick in fact that you can get lost in it. But it isn't really smoke. It's a fine powder, the product of combining chemicals which hangs in the air. It has saved many lives and helped us win many objectives. Our troops are using four different kinds of chemical smoke in this war. Smoke generators are mounted on ships, on planes, and used by troops on land. Sometimes the smoke is colored. A prearranged color code identifies an artillery unit, a beachhead, or a special objective. Colored smoke helps our planes to bomb accurately even when clouds cover the target. The lead plane carries a secret device that sees through the clouds. Then it drops colored smoke bombs, and the planes which follow use the ring of colored smoke in the clouds as their target. Chemical smoke blanketed the Normandy coast on D-Day. Over Naples more than once it made the Germans aim their bombs by gas and drop them into the sea where they were harmless. At the Volterno River, where Americans were fighting their way into German-held territory, 25-pound smoke shells were fired every 15 seconds for 18 hours so the German artillery couldn't draw a bead on our men. Below Casino, where our supplies had to keep moving up the highways, a smoke screen six miles long and two miles wide blinded German guns which otherwise would have had a clear view from the hillside of our trucks moving on the roads. Engineers throwing a bridge across a stream often lay a smoke cloud where they aren't working, so the enemy will direct his fire there and not shoot at the real bridge. In New Guinea, we took a Japanese airfield by blanketing the edges of the field with smoke from the air and landing a thousand paratroopers in the smoke right on the field. Sulfur trioxide and hexachlorothane, two compounds used in smoke-generating equipment, are products of present-day chemistry. The use of these basic chemicals in smoke screens is a wartime adaptation of products which in peacetime enables the DuPont company to bring you better things for better living through chemistry. Next Monday evening, the Camelcade of America presents a radio adaptation of the current best-seller A Walk in the Sun, a vivid touching story of men and war, the story of an infantry platoon in the Italian campaign, of a march in the sun along a death-strewn unknown road, and of the mission that had to be carried through at the end of that road. The orchestra and musical score were under the supervision of Donald Voorhees. This is Roland Winters sending his best wishes from Camelcade sponsor E.I. DuPont and Amours and Company of Wilmington, Delaware. The Camelcade of America came to you from New York. The National Broadcasting Company.