 The Cavalcade of America, presented by DuPont. This evening, the DuPont Cavalcade pays tribute to another gallant American pioneer, a man whose stubborn tenacity of purpose triumphed over years of heartbreaking failures, carrying him to the fulfillment of a dream. That man was Robert E. Peary, most famous of all Arctic explorers, who devoted 23 years of his life to the achievement of one ambition. His dogged determination has been an inspiration to other explorers and to men in other fields of endeavor. A similar doggedness of purpose inspires research chemists today, driving them on towards the goal expressed in the DuPont Pledge, better things for better living through chemistry. As an overture, Don Voorhees and the DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra bring us a special setting of Jerome Kern's ever popular favorite from the musical comedy, Oh Boy, Till the Clouds Roll By. Henry became an Arctic explorer in 1886 when he was 30 years old. An officer in the United States Navy, he obtained a six-month leave of absence. He was interested in the great unexplored waste of the Arctic, especially in Greenland. The maps of that country were vague. He wished to explore it and prove that Greenland was an island. As a preliminary to trips he planned to make later into the great far north, he set out to cross Greenland, a territory practically unknown to white men. With him as a guide, he took a young South Greenlander. The pair encountered a blizzard. Faced by an Arctic gale and blinding snow, they halted their dog teams. We talked about what we better do. Good idea. Yeah, it does break the wind a bit. Now maybe we can hear ourselves think. Now I hate turning back as much as you do. The dogs can't stand much more of this. Without them, well, yeah. If they go on, one by one they die. Then we get more honest and bolder than it gets us. We go the same way, only slower. Yeah, only slower. That's the way you die in the Arctic. Low, too slow. But one nice thing, Perry, my friend, if you die up here, maybe 50, 100, maybe even a thousand years from now, somebody come along and find you frozen in a cake of ice. That's some consolation. How wonder is it? I'd probably take you back to civilization and put us in the museum as perfectly preserved relics of prehistoric man. They do that. They'll have to explain away our section. And the gold fillings in my teeth. No, no, I think we go back, Perry. But this Arctic, she don't lick us yet. We come back some more, huh? Come back? Yes, I'll be back. We'll go across this Greenland yet by golly. Yes, across Greenland. That's only the beginning. Someday, someday I'm going to lead an expedition to the pole. In that howling storm and bitter cold was born a grim determination that was to dominate Perry's life. He and his companion fought their way back to the coast of Greenland, and Perry returned to his duties in the Navy. In 1891, five years later, Perry led a small exploration party that proved Greenland was an island. Two years after, he returned to Greenland. This time with his courageous young wife. Their daughter Marie was the first white child to be born that far north. She was called the Snow Baby. The long Arctic night is approaching. The ship that is to carry the Perry family back to civilization is ready to leave. Well, there's a captain of the ship going for us. Come on, dear, it's time for you to go aboard. I'll carry the snow bead. Come on, young lady. You're going home. I don't want to try to influence you. You don't mind, haven't you? Yes, dear, I have. You're going to stay here? Yes. You know best. But I hate the thought of leaving you. It'll be so long. A year. More, perhaps. I'll stay with you if you want me to. No, no, you stood the past year like a veteran with this country. No place for a woman. Besides, we haven't just ourselves to think of. Our little girl can't go on being a snow baby all her life. I know. This year in the Arctic hasn't hurt her, but now with a long night coming, no sun at all for nearly six months, it really wouldn't be helpful for her. But you want to stay and try again, don't you? Well, dear, I'd like to stay here till spring to get an early start north again. With that big cash of provisions we had to leave on the ice cap. There's a good chance of pushing up to the ice packs. Who wants there? Well, you know my aim. Then stay, Bert. I know your heart said all of you won't rest until you've succeeded. God bless you and keep you safe, dear. I knew you'd understand. And it won't be so long. Time will pass. You'll have to renew old acquaintances. Marie here will keep you busy. Won't you, my little snow baby? She certainly will. Well, the captain's anxious to get out before the ice cuts you off, dear. You'll have to go now. Goodbye, Bert. Oh, my dear. I hate to leave you here alone. I will be alone. You and Matt and the Eskimos will be with me. I know. Now I'll feel better knowing they are with you. So will I. Yes, come in. The captain's comfortable, sir. He thinks we ought to start. Ah, so are you. Well, we're all ready. Hey, get Matt to carry that box down to the lawnmower, will you, sir? All right, dear. Take my arm. Watch the path. It's slippery. In a way, I hate to leave all this. It isn't what most people would call a home, but... I just hope it'll still be here when Marie is old enough to come up and see her first home. Well, it probably will be all right. That's one thing about this country. Things last forever. Ah, there you be. Now it's coming to fetch you, ma'am. I hate to cut short your saying goodbye, but... I don't like to weigh the drift clothes they're shifting about. The wind swings round to the southwest. Before we get clear, we'll be here for the win... Well, Miss Perry's already. You've not changed your mind, then, sir. We're staying. Matt and you and myself. Well, good luck to you. Goodbye, Matt. Goodbye, madam. I know there's no need for me to ask you to look after the commander. You've been doing it longer than I have. Goodbye, my dear. Take good care of yourself and the youngster. Goodbye, Bert. If you have a chance, give the letter out to me next summer. I'll try. Goodbye, Captain. Good boy. Aye, and I'll be seeing you next year, sir. All right, ma'am. Get in, Captain. I'll show you off. Aye, when you're ready. After a long winter of waiting, the following summer, Commander Perry again led an expedition into the Arctic. But the ice caps had swallowed his food cache, and he, with Hugh Lee and Matt Hampson, almost perished from starvation. Still, Perry was undaunted. He had set a goal for himself, and with every attempt to reach it, he was gaining valuable experience. A few years later, an expedition he was leading was wintering at Almay Bay. Perry, with some Eskimo, set out on a preliminary trip to Fort Conger on the fringe of the Arctic Sea. On the ship, the windward, which was their base camp, the members of the expedition, among them Bob Bartlett, are beginning to worry about him. What do you make of it, Mr. Bartlett? I know Perry told us not to expect him back for a couple of months. Here it is, March. He left the first part of December. It's strange. He might have come back a month after he left during the full moon. I really expected him last month when the moon was full. It's the only time to travel during the Arctic night. Yes, but aren't you worried about the commander? No, no, no. He can take care of himself better than any white man who ever came into this country. He must have gone on to Fort Conger. Greeley's expedition left food there, you know. It would still be in good condition. Well, there isn't anything we can do. No use of sending out a search party for the commander. There might be any place along a thousand miles across to the north. Say, what's the name the Eskimos call him? Piriakshua. In their language, it means the Great Piri. Yeah, and they mean it too. He can get more out of an Eskimo than any white man who ever came into the Arctic. Eh? You know, that kaboose here's over there. Looks mighty lonesome without him. I still can't get used to seeing the kaboose of a freight train passing to the deck of a ship. Well, makes mighty comfortable quarters. Commander says great story about that kaboose. Say, listen, do you hear that? A dog team. You're a giant lady here. It's the commander. It was me. Can you see him? It may be some more Eskimos. Yeah, yeah, it's him, all right. There's Uta. Uta! Where's the commander? Piriakshua. What? Piriakshua, here in Slech. Bag full. Frozen? How bad? Head to the knees down. Isn't bad. Here comes Doctor. Hello, Doctor. That's... All right, Uta. Drive the Slech right up the gate flank and hurry up above it. Achoo! Achoo! Come down gently, man. Oh, yes, he does it, yes he does it. There, no. That's it. How's that, Commander? Fine. Well, I can tell you, it seems good to be aboard. When did it happen, sir? On the trip back? Piriakshua. Freeze legs one day before you say Merry Christmas. That's right, Bartlett. It was the day before Christmas. It's a miracle you're still alive, Commander. The doctor is taking good care of me. Well, there wasn't much I could do until we got back here. I tried to keep the circulation going in the legs. I want to examine them again quickly. Cut off his boots, sir. Cut away. Slech, turn over. Merry time. We've come far. I'll be as easy as I can. Go ahead. Have a look at them. My legs. Yeah. Yeah. There we are. Good heavens. I didn't realize it. Wait a minute, Doctor. You mean you'll have to amputate? I'm sorry, Commander. It's got to be. There's not much time to lose. I'm still afraid Gan Green may set in. A little bit means amputating my legs, Doctor. I'll take my chances with Gan Green. Well, uh, legs are all right. But the feet... I won't have it. I'll take my chances. That's it. Wait a minute. Not as bad as I looked at first. The feet are sensitive. The big toes, too. But the rest of the toes... All right. Remove the rest of them. Line your... I want your word. You have it, Commander. Well, soon it's done. Sooner I can strike the plane off again. Commander Perry recuperated quickly from the operation. Six weeks later, he drove his slept dogs again into the Great North, but again he failed to reach his goal. Once more, he was compelled to turn back. But his was a spirit that could learn lessons from defeat. With each attempt, he penetrated farther into the unknown Arctic Wests, and his explorations and discoveries brought him fame. On July 8th, 1908, he's ready to sail northward once more. This time an especially outfitted polar ship, named in honor of President Theodore Roosevelt. The President himself is on board, paying Commander Perry a courtesy visit. Well, I'm greatly honored by this visit, Mr. President. None at all, Perry. I'm the one who's honored. By your naming, this is out of the ship after me. She's a fine vessel, broad beamed, but no doubt there's a purpose in that. That's more than I can say for my own expanding midriff. On the contrary, Mr. President, you look very fit for a man who has to spend most of his time at the desk in the White House. You know, if you were bound for the topic jungles, I'd say way to my terms over in March and I'd go with you. By Joe Perry, I think I know what makes you keep going in the North. It's the challenge of the unknown. And when you succeed, there's a satisfaction of knowing you've added something to the fund of human knowledge. Well, Mr. President, I feel that the true explorer does his work not for any hope of reward or honor, but because the thing he has set himself to do becomes a part of his being. Must be accomplished for the sake of the accomplishment. Bulley, Perry! Well, I must be going. Goodbye, Mr. President. Goodbye, Perry. I believe in you. And I believe in your success. Goodbye and good luck. That day, July 8th, 1908, Perry sailed for the North. His ship, called the Roosevelt by permission of President Theodore Roosevelt, was the first ever built to withstand the impact of the Arctic ice floes. It was commanded by Captain Bob Bartlett, a veteran of many years' experience in the Arctic, who was to play an important part in this last-period expedition. Through 350 miles of polar ice, Captain Bartlett pushed and wedged the ship to Cape Sheridan. There, Perry and his companions, all seasoned Arctic men, make their plans for the dash northwards over the ice. Well, how are things going, Captain Bartlett? First-rate commander, first-rate. Morning, gentlemen. Morning, morning, morning. Matt finished checking over the sleds and the supplies. Hey, I've been over everything with him myself. Fine. How's the weather? Well, at first we're getting these lighted to us, course-loading. There's no telling how much longer. Well, that's the reason, gentlemen, why I don't feel we can wait any longer. If we're going any farther north this spring... Right, right. Well, since we're agreed, the sleds and dogs are ready, I see no reason to delay our departure another hour. Our trial trip shows there are no impassable breaks. The leads that are open, we can skirt. And they'll get no better. Very well. Gentlemen, I'd like to go over our plan of action once more. Now, once we're on the pack ice, there'll be no time to waste. Speed will be the important thing. And there must be no mistakes. No hitch in our plan. There won't be, sir. All right, let's review our plan. We leave here today in six groups, each of you heading a group. I've picked Matt Henson and four Eskimos to go with me. Dr. Goodsell with three Eskimos, three sleds, 20 dogs, will lead the column and break trail the first hundred miles. Right, sir. He will then leave his supplies on the ice and return to our base camp. Borup will lead the next hundred and turn back. I understand. Now, Marvin will lead to about the 86th parallel, leave his supplies and return. Then Macmillan will carry off. And finally, if all goes well, you will lead us to the 88th parallel, Captain Borup. Aye, sir. Is that plain, gentlemen? If you had a night with those dogs of yours, you would be set for a fast dash from there on. Exactly. Would you men breaking the trail and carrying supplies to the various depots along the route? My team's ought to be comparatively fresh to the final run. If the plan doesn't work, it won't be from lack of preparation. Well, few men know as well as I do that the Arctic is tricky. Bleakness before and it may again. Aye. An open lead of water in the ice may keep any or all of us from going on. Or we're still from coming back. Yes, there's real danger ahead, men. Greater danger than any of us have ever been called upon to face before. For the most part, our explorations today have been on land. It was always the chance of fighting our way back as long as physical endurance could hold out. I know each one of you is equal to almost any physical hardships he may be called upon to face. But once out there on the pack ice, escape may be cut off at any time. And if that happens, you men know what our fate will probably be. Aye, sir, that we do. From the moment we leave this ship, the failure of one may well mean the lives of all. I think I can speak for every men in this cabin, Commander. When I say we're ready, and we'll blast it well, stick it through. Thank you, gentlemen. Get ready to leave within the hour. And so began a journey unparalleled in the annals of exploration. Up, up towards the top of the world they fought their way. Across the sea of treacherous ice crushed and piled in mountainous ridges. Between the Leeds, valleys of new ice, which without warning might open and plunge men, dogs, and sleds into the icy depths of the Arctic sea. One by one the groups left their supplies as planned. Dr. Goodsell, Barth, McMillan, Marvin. Them seven men raced on, ever northward. Perry, Barcliffe, Henson, and four trusted Eskimos. This evening the DuPont Cavalcade of America has a surprise for you. No dramatization of an event can be as vivid as the words of an eyewitness. Standing beside me is a man who accompanied Commander Perry on several of his expeditions and who was the last to bid goodbye to Perry on that last dash to the pole. I'm going to ask him to tell us about it. I take great pleasure in introducing Captain Bob Barcliffe. Hearing the story of Commander Perry this evening wait and stirring memories. They take me back to that day when I left Perry close to the 88th Meridian about 130 miles from the north pole. It was a fine, clear, calm day about 30 degrees below zero. Moreover, everything seemed auspicious. Perry was now within easy reach of the pole. And the last march that we had made together, he had taken over us big level flows. The Eskimos were confident and happy. The moon was on the way to the Meridian, making the chances of bad weather and strong tides less and less each day. Perry had the pick of the dogs, the sledges and the Eskimo and grub enough for months. After making the observation, I gave him a copy keeping one for myself. We loaded up our sledges and then we had some tea, Hemican and a few biscuits. As I shook Perry's hand, I felt sure that he wouldn't need to gain back at the ship. I was pretty certain that he would reach his goal and return safely. I shook each of the Eskimos by the hand and laughing said, north pole, emongwa, timer. That is, north pole, not far away. Then we were all southward to our ship. Our job was to keep open our trail so that Perry would have easy traveling all the way back. Owing to his marvelous judgment and experience, his return from the pole over our trail was fairly easy. He arrived on the glacial fringe near Columbia on April the 23rd and Uta remarked, Devil is asleep or having trouble with his wife or we should never have come back so easily. Perry was a happy man and when he finally reached the ship he told us how he had reached the pole, made his observations, planted the American flag and left a notice in a bottle. That was 28 years ago yesterday. Perhaps you would like to know just what the notice was. I'll read it to you. 90 degrees north latitude, north pole, April the 6th, 1909. I have today the national and sign of the United States of America at this place which my observations indicate to be the north polar axis of the earth and have formally taken possession of the entire region and adjacent for and in the name of the President of the United States of America. I leave this record and the United States flag and possession signed Robert E. Perry Commander United States Navy. Thank you Captain Bartlett. It is for this accomplishment that we are proud to honor the memory of Robert E. Perry and the roster of immortals in the Cavalcade of America. It isn't often that we're able in these DuPont Cavalcade programs to present one of our historical characters in person as we have tonight with Captain Bob Bartlett. Since 1897 when he got his first polar experience on Perry's ship Windward, Captain Bartlett has returned to the Arctic regions 42 times. About 20 years ago he began taking his own sturdy ship, the FEM Morrissey on scientific mineral expeditions. Perhaps you wonder where chemistry fits into this picture of Arctic exploration. An important chemical achievement of recent years was the discovery of the new type finish DuPont now offers under the trademark Dulux, a product created to fit a need. The story of Dulux started when DuPont chemists sought a finish that would withstand the most severe conditions of use. In their efforts to formulate such a finish they developed an entirely new chemical compound, a synthetic resin unlike anything ever known before. That vehicle together with a different type of pigment produced this remarkable enamel. One valuable use for Dulux finishes on boats where finishes have to withstand many destructive forces. Part of the testing of Dulux marine finishes was done by Captain Bartlett. Panels coated with Dulux were rigorously exposed to strong cold winds, dense fog, salt spray, and sudden extreme variations of temperature. All these forces of nature destroy ordinary paint and varnish. But the panels finished with Dulux enamel came through without any injurious effects whatever. Today Dulux protects and beautifies boats ranging in size from small pleasure craft to giant ocean liners. More than 3 million household refrigerators as well as many other household items gleam with this durable finish which gives such sturdy service for years. And virtually all the modern streamlined trains are finished in colorful coats of Dulux. Such development work in the field of paints and finishes is another example of how DuPont research chemists are constantly creating for fellow men. Improving existing products of daily use, developing new ones aiming always at the objective described in the DuPont phrase better things for better living through chemistry. Next week at this same time DuPont again presents The Cavalcade of America. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.