 The University of the Air, a public service of the National Broadcasting Company and its affiliated independent stations, presents another chapter in the historical series, We Came This Way. Today's story, Valley Forge. December 1777. Valley Forge, crucible of faith. The ordeal of the American Revolution. Valley Forge. It was so different in the spring. The sun was on the green meadow and the scent of wild honeysuckle was on the wind. The king said they waited for the shad at Pauling Ford, while overhead the migrant ducks rising from the sound wound with the school kill. Ice is on the school kill now. Ice and snow. It is winter. Cold. Very cold. The coldest winter in the memory of Pastor Movenberg. And blood is on the snow of Pennsylvania. A fine dust of hail runs before the wind and covers the bloody footprints. But always the blood reappears. Conflammation in crimson as the army remains. On a rise of ground a frozen century leans into the wind and presents 20 pounds of musket to the officer of the day. The two men shiver and the century kneels to bind the rags tighter around the soonest stumps of his feet. Below in the valley lie the naked star gravel of the Continental Army of His Excellency, the commander in chief, General George Washington. They stand there, the sentry and the officer. The sentry speaks. I can hear pardon, Canton. But what's for breakfast? Breakfast Henry. Yes, Captain. Firecake and water. I hope. Well, what for dinner, Captain? Firecake and water, Henry. Then, Captain, please serve. What's for supper? Firecake and water. Firecake and water. Today, tomorrow and the next day. Firecake and water. That's all, Henry. May the Lord send that our commissary of purchase live on firecake and water until perdition. Now, back to your tent, Henry. You might as well freeze where it's a little warmer. It's cold in here, Burke. How's Andrew? How do you expect him to be? If only we could get him some clear broth. Clear and hot. Aye. If only this cursed war were over. If only I were a hundred miles away. If only you'd keep your full mouth shut. I'm sorry, Burke. I'll be quiet. Forgive me, lad. I must crank his my old woman. Henry. Yes, Burke? There is a way to get him some broth. Meat broth at that. Can you still ride a horse? Oh, my legs aren't that weak, Burke. But you don't mean... No, none of that. There's a scouting party going on. Foraging for food. Let's go with him. Right away, Burke. Put Andrew. He's sleeping, lad. The bossy means none of us. Come on. Captain... Pull it out, Burke. Yes, sir. That meat belongs to me. That's me, old Captain. Fine meat, old sir. Put it down, you beggars. That meat belongs to me. Does it, Farmer? I say the meat belongs to me. Good. Then we can talk business. Where you bound? Well... That's my business. You go to Philadelphia, Farmer, don't you? Where's my business? Tell the Lord how to leave us to style. Burke, man. Easy, I said, easy. Farmer, we're not thieves. We're soldiers. The Army pays 10 pounds a pound for bills. It's a good price. The British pay 10 shimmies. You dirty, puppeteer dog. Well... I say pull back. Well... Yes, Captain. Back, girl. Back. Farmer, if you are an American, you'll not sell to the enemy into your own soldiers. We'll just go without. I don't know anything about that. Have your silver? No, but we've good continental currency. Continental currency, do you say? Give me a wagon, Lord, of your colonnettles. I'll give you my veal pound for pound. All right, Farmer. You can go. But we shan't forget. We won't forget. December 1777. Valley Forge. A four-deal of our American Revolution. Hunger and sickness and death. Young Henry King and Berks the veteran returned to their tents without food and watched their tent-knife Andrews lie still in fever. They trudged to Dr. Waldo's surgery for a little medicine for Andrews and some for themselves. You're the next. My name's Berks, sir. All right, Berks. What's with you? This is Harry Dr. Waldo. A good democratic complaint, Mr. Berks. Go back and rest. Don't you have anything to give me, doctor? I'll tell you what to do. Rest. I see. Then, doctor, something for Andrews. You saw him last week, sir. The fever's still bad. I remember. Orderly. Give him some mutton and groud for the sick man. Right away, Dr. Waldo. Is that all, doctor? Mutton and groud. I suppose it's no use. Be thankful for the mutton and groud. There'll be none of it tomorrow. Orderly sick charge. I'm going to see General Washington. General Washington. I come to you direct. We must have more supplies. I know, doctor. We'll see General Miffin. That's his responsibility. If you please, sir, I've been to him. Many times. It's no use. General Washington, we need bra. Straw, doctor. Well, let the horses do without straw. You don't understand, sir. It's for the men. Two hundred sick men are sleeping on the floor of my salary. They can't sleep on the floor much longer. Our cattle have better in comfort. Very well, Dr. Waldo. I'll talk to General Miffin. Thank you, General Washington. Please, sir. Vinegar also. Vinegar? Aye, it's for the scabies. We must have vinegar. I don't ask more now. Only straw and vinegar. All right, Dr. Waldo. I'll be teacher, sir. There is itchy scabies and typhus. By day and by night, I amputate throes and fingers and toes and arms and legs. More than a man can stand. There's a galloping consumption among the men. And the French disease... Oh, tell me the details, doctor. I'm sick myself. We're all sick and tired. Dr. Waldo, I'm so tired. There's a Christmas present come from our allies. From the French. It's a food castle. Better than food back. Listen, men. The Commander-in-Chief General George Washington congratulates the Army on the arrival of a French vessel at Port Mopaba. He carries a cargo... Listen, men. A cargo of 40 French cannons. Four pounders, men. Nineteen, nine-inch mortars. Five hundred, nine-inch bombs. Four thousand, one hundred, please. You have to keep a better watch to the fire. They'll lay us out like caught to wood. Not for a while, Andrews. Henry, suck some rails. But, Burke, it said Washington forbids burning the farmer's ring. Good. Then we'll burn the farmer's house. I shan't freeze. See, Vern, frost, it's more than I'll bear. Not all bad, Andrews. Some of the farmers brought a little food today. It's not them, it's the other. It's the pious, psalm-singing patriots who carry their produce to the British. I hate them. Yes. And the Burgers of Philadelphia, they feast with a red coat. Turncoat and red coat. It's the same to me. There's many a good Hessian soldier who sits fat and cozy around the stew pot with the wife of a continental soldier. Oh, I think it's going to drive me mad. Here, Andrews. Better take some cold water. They say it's good for the fever. Andrews, why don't you go to the surgery? It's hard for Dr. Waldo to come here. The boy's right, Andrews. Dr. Waldo's a good leech. No, I'll stay here. I can't bear the smell of the surgery. The sweet stink of future fashion. If I'm to die, I'd sooner die here. Inside there, inside the tent. Why is no sentry posted? It's not my turn, Captain. Is it yours, Burgs? No, sir, I've just come. And it's yours, Andrews. And if it is, Mr. Andrews, I don't like your tone. Stand up when you address an officer. The man is ailing, Captain. Never mind that. Stand up, Andrews, into your post. I'll go. I'll go if you give me food. I have none to give. I said go to your post, soldier. No bread, Captain, no soldier. Hey, no mind, sir. He's with Pfeiffer. I'll go for him. Burgs, you just come back. Let me go instead. Thanks, lad, but it's all right. For an old hand like me, this cold isn't so bad. Give it to your scarf, Henry. And another wrapping for the feet. You won't report Andrews, Captain, will you? He's not accountable now for what he says. I understand, Burgs. You're a good man. I won't report him. Now go to the post. Did you find him? I'm not a sign of Burgs. Andrews, there isn't a trace of him. I can't understand it. It's not like him to be gone so long. He should have been back two hours ago. Where could he go? I tell you, I don't know. Could you look for tracks in the snow? Oh, Andrew, I didn't think of it. I'm a fool. Never mind that, Henry. Help me up. What are you doing? Where do you think? He'll be taken for a dessert if he's found. He'll be shot. Oh, you can't go, Andrew. You're sick. I'm going to look for him myself. Jonathan Burgs! Jonathan Burgs! Do you hear me? Henry King, in the bitter December of 1777, looking for Burgs, the veteran soldier, looking in the Pennsylvania snow for tracks, hoping, going further from the camp, moving out of bounds, while Andrews waited, burning up with fever and fear. Oh, thank God. Did you follow me, Landon? You'll be reported missing. They'll take you to the desert. Really, are you crazy, Henry? Then, then why? Look, there, on the road, deer tracks, all the way through the woods to the Perky Omen Road. Somewhere nearby, there's a deer run. Meet Henry. Meet for Jack Andrews. Burke, someone's coming. There's nothing to hide. Stay right with me, Bart. Burke, it's a captain. Hello there. Who goes on the road? It's us, Captain. Jonathan Burke and Henry King. Hello. And why are you out of bounds? We're seeking gain, Captain. That's all. Go back to your tent. Both of you. You know better. It's to know better, sir, that a man in our tent is perishing for the lack of a bit of fresh meat. I'm truly sorry, Burke. But don't go any further. Well, there isn't a man in the regiment knows the woods better than Burke, Captain. Makes no difference. Go on back. There ain't no man to stop me, Captain. Not even General Washington himself. Mr. Burke, do you rebel? Rebell. The word is apt, Captain. Why not? The colonies are rebels. We're an army of rebels, aren't we? Please, Captain, he's lightheaded. He hasn't eaten anything. Don't interrupt, lad. Captain, I ask you, what man said put an America who wasn't a rebel? Enough, Captain Burke. Go back to your tent. There's more, Captain. Good democratic doctrine, sir. My musket. What do you mean, Burke? There's a charge of gunpowder in my musket, Captain. That's what I mean. It makes me the equal of his lordship. Mr. Do you threaten me? Well, sir, you have only your sword. For the last time, go back to your tent. I'm going back. With me, Captain. I shall have to do my duty, Mr. Burke. I shall have to report you. Hit him. You report us for desertion, huh? No, Henry. For insubordination, perhaps, but not desertion. He's no cold, formal aristocrat like some of the other officers. He doesn't stand on his rank. Let's go, Henry. The game won't wait for us, nor will Andrews see us. Henry, that got him. What's the matter, boy? You're shaking all over. Am I? Buck fever. You shot at a man at Tenton without flinching, but you tremble before a deer. It makes a lad like you. Who's there? Oh, we're in for it, Burke. They heard the shot. Around the men. Looks like we caught a couple of desertions. Don't let them get away. Burke and Henry King will stand in Subway Court Marshall tomorrow morning at eight o'clock. Those are the charges against them, General Washington. I see. Gentlemen, what have you to say? You can have a lawyer if you wish. Captain Edison will send words if he'd be happy to represent you. Did he, General? We won't forget that. But if you don't object, General, I'd like to speak for myself and the lad. I have no objection. Proceed. Thank you, General Washington. General Washington, gentlemen, I've served the Army since the beginning the boy since he was 16. We know that, Mr. Burke. The muckets we carry, they're our own. The uniforms, our own rags, sir. We haven't been paid. We've been sick. We've been in hunger. Yet I think I don't complain of that. Yes, I've complained about it, but many things like the other men, but complaints for an American is no sin. Well spoken, Mr. Burke. Thank you, sir. The lad and me fight for the colonies. We were at Brandywine in Germantown. Do you think if we didn't desert them, we'd do it now? Oh, yes, sir. I admit to leave my post, but you know why. And the lad went to find me. We aren't deserted, sir. That's the whole truth. Are you done, Mr. Burke? There's one more thing if I may be allowed, sir. I was one of the sons of liberty. Every man speaks his own way for freedom. You've seen some men who sold beef to the enemy and thought they'd kill you. But I ask you, sir, have you known one carpenter, one courtwinner, one mechanic to betray the cause? If I offend in saying that, sir, well, I'm sorry. But I tell you again, the lad and me are good Americans. What, uh, Mr. Burke, what is an American? Um, an American? I don't, I don't rightly know, sir. Unless it's what a man is and not what he has. Hmm, a philosopher. Tell me, Mr. Burke, do you make texts like Bishop Barclay when the enemy approaches? No, sir. I leave texts for Lord Howe. Howe so? To explain to his majesty why he wins every engagement and yet cannot defeat us. Now, I like you, Mr. Burke. I think you're a good soldier. And because of it, I'm sorry to say that nothing you've told us has altered our decisions. Everything you've told us convinces me that you are fine men, both of you. But an army rises and falls on discipline, and you have broken discipline. I'm sorry, Mr. Burke. But for the good of the army, we shall have to make an example of both of you. Jonathan Burke and Henry King, it is the order of the court marches, General Washington presiding, that for the offenses committed, you are each to receive 20 strokes of the lash. I warn the men present against any demonstration or outcry. Throw us 20 strokes. Burke. Easy, Henry. Easy now. Burke's asleep. He's all right. With the cold more than the lash. The brood, stealth, filthy brood. Andrews, go back to your blanket. You mustn't be up. You... That's all right, Henry. I'm stronger than you think. I'm Jack Andrews, I spit no grass grows. How can you joke? I'll joke or go mad. What shall you have? Water. Andrews, some water. It's in my hand, boy. Here, hold up your head. More, Andrews. No more. You'll get sick. Oh, why did he go off with a deer, that dumb, gutter-faced fool? You'd have done it for him, wouldn't you? I would. Henry, I hate them for doing it. Oh, they weren't unfriendly. It's the first time I've seen Washington so close. His nose is pitted with a box, Andrews. But he laughed. He could see he was pleased by what Burke said. The greater the crime, then. I hate the army, Henry. I'm not going to stay another day. Henry, let's go. Let's get off. Let's quit. Andrews, you don't mean that. I'm sick. Sick, you hear? I'm not going to die in this tent, but in the snow where a man can fall asleep and think he's warm. Andrews. Burke! I thought you were asleep. No, not asleep. That's too weak to talk. Throw a stick out in the fire. Go to sleep. I'm glad you heard. My mind is fixed. If you and Henry won't go with me, there are others who will. Andrews, you can't quit now. They whipped you. It's no skin off your back. I can beat you when you say that. Oh, young man. Jonathan Burke, will you snivel and smile and give a kiss for a larching? You're sick, Andrews. But I'm not mad. You were lashed. I had a fair trial. Your back isn't fair, Jonathan Burke. It'll heal. Go back to your blanket. Oh, no. I'm going. Oh, you're going to stay here. Why? Tell me why. You belong here. You belong here. That's why. Men like you don't run from a fight. You just can't run away, Andrews. The fight followed. And you have to fight alone. What's the difference? You know what it is. No single man can make the fight. But all men together. That way. Andrews, you can't run from the fight and find what you look for. What you look for is right here. Whose fight? The Merchant's Theoristic Rats? Yes, the Merchant's Theoristic Rats, if he will. But your fight, too. Everyone's fight. One thing at a time, Andrews. Curse you, Jonathan Burke. May heaven curse you. Then you'll stay. May you have the black pot. But you'll stay. I hope your teeth rock with the skirmish. But you'll stay. Yes, I'll stay. I'll stay. Because you believe me. Quit. Don't play with me. I said I'll stay. What more do you want? Oh, Andrews. Andy, I... I want you to stay. Only if you want to stay. It can't... It... It mustn't be otherwise. Quit. Quit, Burke. It's so... You know it's so. I'm no deserter. Don't grow, Captain. I want to talk. You need sleep, General Washington. Let Lord Howe sleep. I'm depressed. Tired and weary. And depressed. You have tribulations enough for one man. I doubt myself, Captain. Am I worthy of the fidelity of the men? It's always failed. That isn't true, sir. No, but it is true. It's always been true. But Fortness actually 30 years ago, it failed. The Ohio campaign, failure. It hasn't changed. New York, Germantown, Brandywine. Failure is all of them. The campaign against Canada, miscarry, lost. Sir, you are a rock that grows on adversity. Before God, I hope you're right. Captain, this is a great country. There are two million people in it. Something will come of them in spite of our failures. In spite of the Congress, it sits and talks, and sits and talks, and promises. Captain, we need a miracle. Where is there a miracle, Captain? Where? Valley Forge was a miracle. The miracle of 1777 and 1778. Out of it came the vibration of deathless music of our American Revolution. Out of the ordeal and the blood on the snow and the rabble in the tent, something emerged. First, spring came, and the stricken, starved men stirred and quickened in the thin April sun. Near where the New Hampshire engineers had bridged the schoolkill, the men took ashes and sand and washed their rags in the river, and they were refreshed and cleaned. And that was a miracle. Then, another miracle. The shad in the thousands came boiling up the river to spawn. At Pauline's Ford, the half-crazy men stretched the net and rode into the river, driving the fish before them. They ate the first fish raw. Then they cooked it and ate more. Then they sorted the rest. A fat little man named Simon began to drill them. Yes, he drilled them. They were awkward. They vexed him. He lost patience, but he drilled them. And they became an army. They became the disciplined army of the American Revolution. The army that marches still. The army that marches now. The army of freedom that will never die. Tonight, we have our guest speaker, Martin B. Mangan, the administrative assistant to the chairman of the War Finance Committee of Illinois. Mr. Mangan has important information to give us on war bonds. Mr. Mangan. Today is the anniversary of the Bill of Rights, which grew out of the struggle of the hungry and ragged little band of colonists at Valley Forge. Today's war, too, is being waged for the freedoms and rights of individuals. The bonds that help finance it are called the People's Bonds. The series E, War Savings Bonds, which were designed as a protection to the individual, are built around the principles written in the Bill of Rights. They may be owned only by individuals. The owners alone have the right to redeem the bond. The Treasury Department may not call this bond prior to maturity. The owners have the right to hold the bond during the full ten-year period, so that the total 2.9 and 9.10 percent per annum rate of interest may be realized. The bond has no value to anybody other than the registered owner. A 60-day redemption clause was inserted in this bond by the Treasury Department to stimulate individual savings, fully realizing that when an emergency arose and the owners may need cash hurriedly, these bonds could be converted readily. The bonds, if lost, stolen, burned or destroyed will be reissued to the owner by the Treasury Department upon proper application and state in the fact. This feature is not true of currency. While series E bonds are identical with currency, both being obligations of the United States government, bonds increase in value, and currency does not. The Treasury Department had in mind when creating the series E bond, the safeguarding and protection of the individuals, in full accordance with the principle of the Bill of Rights, protecting the individuals for whom our present armed forces are fighting so nobly and for whom those at Valley Four so gallantly fought. The NBC University of the Air has brought to you Chapter 10 of We Came This Way. Next week, We Came This Way will present Lafayette. A handbook containing background information with suggestions for further reading is now off the press. We shall be happy to send you at cost this valuable We Came This Way handbook, especially written for the current series. Send 25 cents to cover the cost of printing and mailing to We Came This Way, Post Office Box 30, Station J, New York 27, New York. Valley Forge was written by Morton Wishingrad and directed by Albert Cruz. The original music was composed by Dr. Roy Shield. Joseph Galicchio was the conductor. Third as Jonathan Burke was Mr. Frank Dane. Mr. Norman Gottschalk played Andrews. Mr. John Coons was Henry King. Mr. Arthur Sedgwick was General Washington. The part of the captain was performed by Mr. Arnold Robertson. Dr. Waldo was played by Mr. Jess Pugh. Mr. John Coons was Henry King. Mr. Arthur Sedgwick was General Washington. The part of the captain was performed by Mr. Walter was played by Mr. Jess Pugh. And Clifton Utley was the narrator. This program came to you as a public service feature and is produced by the NBC University of the Air. Not only for listeners in this country, but also for our servicemen and women overseas to be transmitted to them wherever they are stationed through the Armed Forces Radio Service. This is the National Broadcasting Company.