 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 battle to the tramp steamer. A crew picked up from the ends of the earth, a skillful and courageous skirth, and howl 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 technical or production kismet. And now Cavalcade presents Edward Arnold as Captain John of the Merchantship Contessa in 12 Desperate Miles. This 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 mean that struck us is something you might call the lightning of destiny. I was in the wheelhouse with the maid trying to help her ride out the storm. Do you think she'll hold together till we get there, Captain? No, I wouldn't let me 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 the bars, holding their own. Well, as long as it isn't rising, that's something. Nothing much we can do about it, but head her into it and pray. Lost rivets, lost plates, leaky seams. She was never meant for this kind of work. Ah, the poor old Contessa. But that's what she is, and that's all she was cut out for. It's the one that she's held together as long as she has. Well, what's this? Radio message, sir. Just came in. Let's see it, Bill. I might have known it. What is it, sir? Change of orders, Mr. Badulla. 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? Oh, no, no. I tell you, it's got to be a small ship, can't problem more than 17 feet of water. Well, I've got to have it. I don't care if you have to build out a 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. 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. It means a success or failure of the entire African invasion. That's all. Anything I can do? Well, I don't know, Admiral. Somebody's got to do something fast. To invade Africa, we've got to have a complete air umbrella for landing operation. Of course. Well, 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. Well, that should know for 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? Well, by ship, I suppose. Exactly. Do you see where that airfield is located? Do you see that river? A sable. 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 off that river to the airfield or we won't have a plane in the air over Casablanca. Oh, 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, ma'am. 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. A star of Ceylon. Got the tonnage, sir. Brook W? No. How about the Contessa? The Contessa? That wasn't there this morning, Major. I know, sir. I thought she was lost. Ah, that's your ship, Colonel. 5,500 ton 17 foot grand 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 and emergency. We bag the poor old Contessa into Newport News. There was fog but not enough to hide her looks. No 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 off to seek him free. Hi, Captain. Oh, hello. Look who's here. Hello, Captain. How are you? I'm pretty good. Wow. Captain John. Long time no see. 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. What do you know about it? No more than you do, I guess. Important war mission, a river in North Africa. Cargo of bombs and gasoline. Bombs, gasoline? Oh, the poor old Contessa. From banana boat to a floating mine. It's not what you'd call the ideal cargo. Oh, I'm not objecting. Somebody's got to carry this 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 get home. Oh, well, the Contessa will eat up at least that in dry dock. Have a good rest, Captain. Thanks, Drake. I need it. Standard fruit, Drake speaking. Oh, yes, Colonel. I'll be shutting off. Will you hold a moment, Colonel? Just a minute, Captain. I'm with you, Colonel. We've just paid off the crew. They 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. Ashley will do our best. Goodbye. Well, I hope you've enjoyed your leave, Captain, because you've had it. Meaning what? You'll do 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. You know, 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 scotter. I forgot all about that. Yeah. Get me the dock. I want to talk to Contessa. She connected? Okay. How are you doing? 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. I suppose not. You're sailing out again in 24 hours. Thirty men. Thirty men? What good are 30 men on a job like that? 75 is an absolute minimum. Thirty men. Oh, this is about 30 men. Oh, Colonel, this is Captain John of the Contessa. How do you do this? The crew's been paid off and they've left the ship. 30 men are always left aboard. Oh, and 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. It's a chance, anyway. Kim, you'd better set wires to every possible or impossible address that any of them left. Okay. But 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. We'll back aboard ship immediately. It is a wartime emergency. All men from the SS Contessa reported 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 vanished. In North Africa, men and war withered his 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. Well, they found one more. An all night man. It's still 18 to go. Captain, there's no more time left for any more of these cops and robbers. We've done everything but Shanghai men off the streets. Hello? Yeah, sure. He's right here. Beautiful. Thanks. Yes? Speaking. Who's orders of the convoy sail without it? 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's gone. So I gather. The miniature ship's 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 spitting a prayer. If I'm to get her through without convoy, I must have those team men. Heavens knows I want to have them. Where are they coming from? No, I can't think of a place we haven't looked. I can. Two of them. The morgue and the jail. Who say? That's not as funny as you think to. 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. No, you better tell them other than one. All right. Quiet, man. 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 this a convoy job, Captain? No, we do it the hard way. There you have. 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? Christian Sherry. Yeah? I get back to my room and it's over. Now to keep your nose clean. Well, I've got three days coming to me on this trick. And what with the housing shortage? Well, Chris, you ain't out. All right. I was born a sucker. I'm in. Put down John Marshall. 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 her decks, the old Contessa slipped out into the Atlantic. A destiny in the hands of a stranger crew was ever put to sea. British, Norwegians, Estonians, Danes, men of 17 different nations drawn from the reaches of the Earth. Out under the broad Atlantic with its floating mines, submarines, patrolling axis planes. Well, we were alone. Five days. A week. Ten days. Well, we've made the first lap, Captain. Well, as well. Lieutenant Bixby. Yes, Captain. We're at our roundable point. No sign of our reception committee, sir. 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 picks us up. The poor old Contessa. She nearly knocked herself out getting us here and now... And now we set. The subs out there is a traffic jam. That's all we need. Just one little sub. Bombs, gasoline and ammunition. What a fourth of July we'd make. So here we set, 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'd be dead, yet shall he live. Hey Mario, still 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. 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. Sub, sign it! Sub, sub sign! All hands up at the station. 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 the jet. Hey look, a blade. We are going to get it from Fort Bamford. Fort! Painting for us? He's going for a shot. That's all we're going to do on the road! He dropped a deck bomb right on that shot. That's one sub, whatever you're about. Oh! It's the escort. That's where the plane comes from. That's one from our escort vessel. Sure, the Marines are landing. Look there. They're running up their flags. Captain, the escort's signaling. They want to know, is there anything else before we pull out? Tell them no. And thanks for everything. Boy, that was a little too close for company. Well, they'll tell you. Suppose Molly or Don't pray, huh? They're answering, Captain. They say, good luck and Godspeed. Good luck and Godspeed. We'll need it. The next day we reached the mouth of the Sable 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 into 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 contestant now. I stood on the bridge with the doula and fixed me 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. Badoula. Keep her appointed 2 to port. Aye, aye, sir. The current's casting her broadside, sir. Starboard. Starboard here, sir. She's heading for the sandbar, sir. That's Starboard. Out of her with her help. Hold her, hold her. We've got to clear it, sir. I don't know which the rocks I'm worrying about. When she swings clear... What a ground, sir. I think we can ride over it. Engines full beam. Full speed, sir. I'm going to clear it, I think. Ease her off a little, Mr. Badoula. Aye, aye, sir. She's over. Hard to port now, hard to port. Hard to port, sir. Cap 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 of stir. Full speed of stir, sir. No, it's no use. She's going to hit, keep you held down anyway. Aye, sir. And pray, here it goes. We're still here, Captain. Ah, I can't imagine why. What's the damage, Chris? All plates to him, sir. Water coming in forward forward. Will she hold together? If it don't get no worse, sir. Well, it can't be any worse. Nothing can. Mr. Badoula, 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 better tell the men to take cover. What do I do, sir? I'll be all right at going. Aye, aye, sir. Hit the deck, fellas. That's rifle fire. You heard me. You heard me. Down, down on the deck. Skip his orders. Aye, Mr. Badoula. All right, sir. No, 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. Captain, we're aground. Reverse engines. Close speed is turning. Close speed is turning, sir. Hi, aye, sir. Are we moving? No, sir. I'm afraid we'll hook 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. What about those snappers up in the hills? That's what I'm thinking about. I guess we better have a little talk with the men. Come on, come along. All right, men, blow the deck. All hands blow the deck. He's given us a say something to you. All right, everybody blow the deck. Come on. All right, men. Come on, come on. We're 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 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? Yeah. 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 about my ship. I want lions. 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 voyage 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 contestant out of it. Air speed it is, sir. Starboard of it, Mr. Padula. Aye, sir. Coming free, sir. Steady as you go, steady. It's turning around. That's Starboard. Put her down hard. She's swinging the wrong way, sir. She's heading downstream. We'll worry about that when we get her up road. Quarter speed, Mr. Padula. Aye, aye, sir. She's free, sir. Put her for the right. Yes, but we're heading down right where we came from. I don't see how we can ever come around this river, sir. I don't intend it. Steady your health. I don't 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 climb 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 to the last three miles. Reverse your engines. Push me to stern. This old baby quiver is struggling. If she can hold together a little longer. Captain John, there's the airfield. There's the airfield. Hey, look out for that mudbar. That's not going to stop us now. Give her everything she's got. Engines, full speed. Engines, full speed. Well, we're hard of ground, sir. Well, it doesn't matter now. We made it. Brass hats on the shore waiting for us. Thank you, sir. Thank you. Captain, look at all those plays in the field. Ponga to the... Yeah. With the bellies hungry for our get-it ammunition. Mr. Padula, you may rig for unloading. Crippled in soggy and weary. But with our 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 microphone in just a few moments. Meanwhile, here is Gain 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, and reinforcing tapes. So are the shoots that carry fragmentation bombs. For greater accuracy and effectiveness, these are dropped from 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 neckties 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 tenacity rayon yarn that goes into tires for army trucks goes also into these parachutes for flares 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, 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 see duty aboard the Navy's new ships. Well said, Ms. Lindsay. The Navy needs women now to release more men to manage 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 cross-motion picture of the same name. This 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, KissMatch. This is James Bannon sending best wishes from Cavalcade sponsor, the DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware. Thank you from Hollywood. This is the National Broadcasting Company.