 From Hollywood, California, the Lux Radio Theatre presents Madeleine Carroll and Brian Ahern in Beloved Enemy. Lux presents Hollywood. The makers of Lux Toilet soap appreciate the loyalty that you have shown for this fine beauty care. Loyalty which enables them to bring you the Lux Radio Theatre every Monday night. This evening you will hear Brian Ahern, Madeleine Carroll, C. Aubrey Smith and Donald Crisp. As guests, Ted Lesser, head of Paramount's talent department, and Walter Hoffman, creator of special battle effects you see in films. Our music is directed by Louis Silvers. And now our producer. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Cecil B. DeMille. Greetings from Hollywood, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight across the vast dominion of Canada, countless families are enjoying the Lux Radio Theatre for the first time. For tonight, 26 stations of the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation have joined our great network. We're indeed happy to welcome these new stations and their listeners. We sincerely trust that every one of our new friends will enjoy these Monday evenings in the Lux Radio Theatre. A great many years ago in England, the wife of a Birmingham architect agreeing with friends that it would be very nice for their city to have an amateur theatrical group, became the chief organizer of the Birmingham repertoire company. The Good Woman's Enterprise later launched two of her fellow townsmen toward the pinnacles of international stardom. One was her son, Brian. The other was Madeleine Carroll. When Madeleine was attending the University of Birmingham, where her father was a professor, she was offered a contract for the repertoire company. To please her father, the offer was forgotten, and Madeleine became a school teacher. But it was that unsigned contract that later inspired her with the determination to become an actress. You heard Brian Ahern here only a few weeks ago. But when Samuel Goldman gave us permission to bring Beloved Enemy to the air, we persuaded Brian to interrupt his work and be with us again tonight. We were equally fortunate to secure Madeleine, for she returned to Hollywood only recently from abroad. Madeleine's presence here is something of an anniversary. Those of you who were listening in at this time last December will recall her brilliant performance for us in Cavalcade, which was presented exactly one year ago. Tonight, she becomes Helen Athlee, and Mr. Ahern is Dennis Reardon. Two great character actors will be heard in leading roles. C. Aubrey Smith, as Lord Athlee, and Donald Crisp as Burke. Mr. Smith's current film is Prisoner of Zender. And Mr. Smith's current film is Prisoner of Zender. Mr. Crisp is next seen in Jezebel. And now, the Lux Radio Theatre salutes the new year with Beloved Enemy, starring Brian Ahern and Madeleine Carroll with C. Aubrey Smith and Donald Crisp. Here, 1921, the fog-filled streets of Dublin echo to the martial sound of British troops, arriving undercover at night to stem the tide of Irish rebellion. On the side of Ireland, a young man fights blindly for his country's independence. The leader of the cause is unknown to the British, but known and loved by the Irish. The British ever catch him in British or no. He'll stick with Dennis Reardon. Hi, Dennis. This is our man. Dennis Reardon. In the cold, gray light of morning, after a night of terror, Dennis Reardon stands in a doorway, his hand raised to knock. He hesitates for a moment. Behind that door is a young wife, now a widow. He knocks quietly, and the door is opened. Come in. What is it in it? What's wrong? Kathleen. Where is Sean? Where is my husband? He's gone, Kathleen, along with Danagull and Murphy. They did it themselves at headquarters. They did it? They blew up the place. They had to, Kathleen. It was a raid. They were raided by the British. If the records were found, it would have meant more lives than three, and perhaps the end of the cause. Where is he? Can I see him? No, Kathleen. Oh, no, there were brave men. And you're crazy, too, Dennis Reardon. Oh, can't you understand? He was my husband. You're a quiet girl. Oh, what do you know about love? You've never let it come near you. You're ready to a cause. How good is that cause to me when he's dead? He's dead. Mother. Take hold of yourself, Kathleen O'Brien. What was the great noise, Mother? It's over now, boy. Go back to sleep. It's all over now. Is my father home, Mother? No, Father. Then can I sleep in a big bed till he comes? Yes. Yes, Father. I'll have to be going now. There's a meeting of the committee. We'll not be forgetting him, Kathleen. Nor will I. That's what it takes, gentlemen. Bombs talk loud and long. Tomorrow night, Lord Athlee will be here from London. I vote we make a demonstration that will blow his lordship from the face of the earth and rock the very foundations of Ireland. It would, that, Mr. Burke. And that's why we'll not do it. And who's to pay for the loss of O'Brien and his wife? For 400 years, Ireland has been paying for the mistakes our forefathers made. The kind of mistake we must not make tomorrow. We are not a handful of conspirators meeting in a dark room, but the government of a free people. Remember that. It is not for us to make war on the diplomatic representative of another government. Lord Athlee comes with clean hands, and we'll receive him with clean hands. I agree with Dennis. We'll be boing trouble and shame if you blow up an innocent man. And who's to say is innocent? The decision's been made, Burke. And who made it? As chief of staff, I made it. And it's 10. Lord Athlee and his daughter will arrive tomorrow in peace. And I'll be there to see to it. You'll be there with 10,000 pounds on your head, are you mad, Dennis? I'm not so mad as to think there's any good we'll come up once in murder. On Lord Athlee's boat, however, there is also a shipment of munitions. Munitions, is it? Then we'll blow the... Now, now, control yourself. Jerry, what plans have you made for them? Oh, a little reception at the north wall. Now, I figured this. A cart backs out of the alley and runs... I'd feel a lot better, Lord Athlee, if you and Helen were in the armored car back there. Nonsense, Colonel. Nonsense. But riding up here, sir, with munitions, it's not safe. I've never ridden in an armored car in my life. I'm not going to start now. How do you feel about it, Helen? They always looked a bit stuffy to me, Father. There doesn't seem to be much cause for alarm. Where are all the people in Ireland? I don't believe I've seen one yet. We've cleared the streets there, Helen. Precautional measures. That sounds like open warfare, Colonel Loder. It amounts to that, martial law, you know. And I regret it. Can't deal with people until they have their civil rights. I'm here to see they get them. Ireland and England. One nation and one people. Divided by a strip of water and the hatreds of men built. No, it's not. It's all one empire. Traveller, yes, sir. Watch out for that cart. In the alley there. Watch out! Sergeant, to the guard around Lord Athlee. All right, nothing wrong is just an accident. There won't be any disturbance. I say, just an accident. There won't be any disturbance. What makes you so sure? Sergeant, arrest this man. Bring him to headquarters. I want to see him there at once. May have been an accident. Then again, you never know. Armoured cars may be stuffy, but they're safe. My apologies, Colonel Loder. Our apologies, Colonel Loder. Here's the prisoner, sir. Bring him in. Go on, stand over there. What's your name? Dennis Reardon. What? You're taking a dangerous name, young man. The best is none too good for me. Did you find anything on him, Sergeant? Just these letters. Now arm, sir. Thomas Casey. Medical student. Well, Mr. Casey, what were you doing back there? Well, I was riding the pusher. Pusher? A bicycle, my lord. Go on. Well, I was riding the pusher. Peaceful as you please. When all of a sudden I heard a crash. Breaks, screaming and cars stopping. So I stopped. And then, would you believe it, I was squished into a lorry. Pusher and all. Brought up here and asked what I was doing back there. You see, Lord Athlete? You can't get a thing out of them. I'll let him go. All right, outside. Go on. Go on home. Oh, wait. Don't you think you ought to give him back his pusher? Oh, thank you, miss. All right, give it back to him, Sergeant. Yes, sir. Thank you, miss. That's very kind of you. These kids, Lady Ellen, they're riding with chalk on the car. I've been chasing them all the time you were shopping. Get off that car! Get off you! No! Sergeant, that little one fell. Pick him up. Let me alone! Let me alone! It's all right. We ain't going to hurt you. I'll take care of him. Up it. Go away and the rest of it. Did you hurt yourself badly? Let me see. It's your knee, isn't it? Don't you touch me. I was a Red Cross nurse once. And even the other side didn't mind when we helped. Let me see. Yes, it's just a wrench. I'll take you home. Where'd you live? Well, would you tell me your name? My name is Father O'Brien. I hate you. You hate me? Why? I suppose you have a reason. My father's dead because of you. Because of me? Well, because of your people anyway. Oh, I'm sorry. You're quite a soldier for all your size. Are you sure you don't want to cry? Grown-up men do sometimes. It helps. Go on. Go ahead, Father. Is this the house, Father? It is. Carry him in, Sergeant. Yes, my lady. Are you Mrs. O'Brien? Yes, I am. What do you... Father is hurt. Don't be alarmed. He fell and wrenched his knee. Put him down, Sergeant, and wait outside in the car. Thank you for bringing him home. Would you like to have a doctor see him? Thank you. We can manage ourselves. She's a nice mother. She has a nice smell. You should be very proud of him, Mrs. O'Brien. He's like his father. Good morning, Mrs. O'Brien. Could I be of any assistance? Oh, good morning. Good morning. They told me that Father was hurt. Have you called a doctor, Kathleen? I should think a medical student like you could do well enough with a bruised knee. No one can understand English jokes, but the English. Let me see it. Oh. Mm-hmm. Father, I feel that you will live. Madam, I'm afraid this is the wrong section of Dublin for you. We both seem to have a habit of popping up in the wrong sections of Dublin. Mr. Dennis Reardon, isn't it? What? You have a frightening memory for names, my lady. I wasn't apt to forget that one, Mr. Casey. Is there anything I can do? Aye, you can keep your benevolence to yourself. You shouldn't have come here at all. I brought Father home because he was hurt. Of course you think it was all a trick to get into this house so that I could spy on Father's family for my father. We especially hate little children whose fathers have just been killed. If you try to understand this... I do understand you. You hate nothing and you love nothing. You live in your stuffy heads where no feeling ever enters. New people think you can kill us and still be our friends. It's an amazing kind of people you are with ice in your hearts. Now go. If you mean I'm not an unreasoning maniac like yourself, I'm glad I'm not. I came here because I wanted to help these people. But you wouldn't understand that because you're blind. Oh, calm yourself, Lady Hillen. Fighting, fighting, fighting until you're all dead. You shouldn't be so hot about it. Well, I imagine that's the first time in history that the Irish had to ask the English to calm down. What is it, Sergeant? Big pardon, my lady. There's a crowd collecting around the car outside. I'll have to hurry to a garage or I won't get there at all. Oh. May I wait here, Mrs. O'Brien? You may. Thank you, my lady. A crowd, is it? Kathleen, will you let Lady Hillen take your bicycle? Yes. It's in the alley. Can you ride a bicycle, Lady Hillen? Yes. Must I? Well, we don't like crowds in front of our houses. I'll show you your road. Will you come this way? Well, if I were you, I'd concentrate on riding and not on the bell. Let me alone. I like it. Are you tired? No. Not very. But you don't mind if we stop while I fill my pipe, eh? Oh, no. Not a bit. You said you were just going to show me the road. Well, that's what I've been doing. Show me a good deal of it. I imagine I could find the way now. Oh, I don't think so. You'd never get back to Dublin. Back to Dublin? Then this isn't Phoenix Park. All Ireland is a park. I don't understand why I have to cycle all over Ireland to get to my home. I shall explain. From Kathleen O'Brien's house, there were two roads. The first would have been cycling through city streets. And with your kind of cycling, you'd have been killed for certain by an Irish lamppost. And this is by far the most pleasant road. I see. And it's only 10 miles longer. Well, you're not angry with me, are you? No. Of course not. Ah, that's right, too. Are you hungry? No, thank you. Well, I am. And there's not a place for tea for a mile. You wouldn't care for a head full of berries. No, I... Well, all right. Good. There's a place by a stream. Not far. Will you have some more berries? Thanks. I've had enough, I think. What do you do besides going to medical school and riding around the country on a bicycle? Would you really want to know? No. On second thought, I don't believe I would. Suppose I tell you instead what I'd like to do. As if I could stop you. It's a farm in County Galway, I'd like, with some fine pigs and horses belonging to it. And a fine spirited woman in the house making a great clamour all the day. And the children drive in McCrazy with their coins on. In County Galway, where they've never heard of the troubles. What are you thinking? I'm trying to picture your farm and you on it. You belong there somehow, away from all this hate and bitterness where men sing about dying for a cause, forgetting that it means they must kill for it. You're not like that. Not deep inside. When a man wants peace as much as you do, there's no room in his heart for hate. I'm Irish and there's room for all. Is there? I wish you had that farm. I hope you'll have it soon. Do you now? Then tomorrow maybe you'll meet me at the Dublin Market. I'll be buying the first pig. Will you help me pick him out? No. Why? I can't. Why not? I can't. Oh. I have to go now. Is it straight down the road? Yes, I'm sorry. I can't go all the way with you. Business takes me elsewhere. Thank you. And goodbye. And you won't meet me? No. How will I return the bicycle to Catalina Brown? Well, why not ride it back tomorrow? All right, I will. Thank you. And goodbye. And you won't meet me at the market tomorrow? No. If I ride the bicycle in tomorrow, how will I get back again? Ride it back. But how will... I have it. You take mine and I'll ride it back. But how will I get yours back? Meet me at the market tomorrow. Never mind. I'll take it back now. Goodbye. At four o'clock, by the big stalls, I'll be waiting. Father, are you up and around already? How's your leg? All just fine. Look, I brought you something. A present. Oh, thank you. But, uh, I don't know if I should take it from an English woman. Oh, that's all right. We're all friends now. Look, Father, tell your mother I brought back her bicycle. I had a lovely ride with... With who? Well, I don't know what you call him. I call him Dennis Reardon. Oh, but mother says we're never to call him that anymore. What? Never. She says we're not to call him by his right name. Then we won't. We won't, Father. You have just heard act one of beloved enemy. In just a few moments, we will continue with act two of our play, starring Brian Ahern and Madeleine Carroll. But now it's intermission time in the Lux Radio Theatre. While we're waiting for act two, we want you to listen in on Betty, who just got home from her job as a sales girl in a popular Hollywood department store. Child, you look all in. Was it a bad day? Oh, you know, Mom, what the first week after Christmas is. Nobody ever guesses right about anybody else's size. And everybody comes back to the store to exchange what they got for what fits. Oh, my feet. Why don't you take a short nap, dear? I'd have dinner ready in half an hour. Oh, I'm too tired to even do that. Oh, there's the phone. I'll take it. Hello? Oh, hello, Bob. The Trocadero? I'd love it. In an hour. Goodbye. Oh, Betty, you're not going dancing when you're so tired. Now, Mother, don't worry about me. I'll just pop in a lux toilet so bad that I'll be out a new woman. Well, I suppose if you must, you must. Now, don't worry, Mother. When I relax in a nice warm tub full of lux toilet soap lather, I can just feel all the aches and pains fading away. I'll be fresh as a daisy in no time and dainty, too. And later, at the Trocadero... Look, Bob, there's Joan Blondel. Isn't she gorgeous? You're gorgeous enough for me. Ah, gee, Betty. You're swell to dance with. You're always so fresh and lovely. And your skin is so sweet. Yes, and smart girls all over the country follow Betty's example. But now, let's return to our producer, our stars, and play. Mr. DeMille. We continue with Beloved Enemy, starring Brianna Hearn and Madeleine Carroll with C. Aubrey Smith and Donald Crisp. Later the same evening, Helen has arrived at home tired and dispirited, knowing that the young Irishman who asked for her friendship is Dennis Reardon. She's met at the door by a servant who tells her that Lord Athlee has been taken ill. She runs to his room and throws open the door. Father. Come in, dear. Are you all right, Father? All right, dear, yes. A little tired, that's all. And discouraged. Discouraged? You? Yes. This is the most hopeless position I've ever been in. I can't conceive a more dreadful situation. War's a filthy job, Father. You know that. War? It's Dennis Reardon. He's our war. Dennis Reardon, who strikes in the night and disappears like smoke in the fog. Father, you mustn't excite yourself. We've got to find him. If anything is to be done, we've got to bring that man to justice. Father, how can you hate so much? He's one man, one out of millions, and he believes he's right just as you believe it. You were rather a compelling way of presenting the Irish side of it, Helen. I can't hate them. I can't hate Dennis Reardon. But you can love England. And I do, but... Does that mean we have to hound one man? Does it mean we have to sneak upon him in some alley, bring him to his knees or the bullet in his heart? Yes, Helen, yes. Because the lives of thousands depend upon it. Because men are dying all over Ireland. Because of him. Then... then you mean... if Dennis Reardon were captured, there'd be an end to all this trouble? I firmly believe it. Men would go back to their homes, back to their wives and children. Love of England. Love for people. It... it demands things of you, doesn't it? Helen. Father, I think I know where Dennis Reardon will be tomorrow. They almost had him that time. Dennis, he slept right through their hands, like a seal in the water. Right through their fingers. That's the program, gentlemen. Any other business? Meeting adjourned. Good night, Burke. Dennis, how can you find time to be arming about Gregory Street Market? You have a great responsibility, Dennis. You should be more careful. Good night to you. Well, Jerry... Now, about that market, please, Dennis. What about it? I wonder if you were wondering what I'm wondering. What is it, Jerry? That was no ordinary round-up, as I looked at it. Well, Jerry... Well, I was wondering if anybody besides you and myself knew you were going to be there. I was thinking there must have been somebody. There was somebody, but I'd pledged my life she had nothing to do with it. She's English? You're right, Jerry. Everything tells me that she didn't. But I've got to know. And there's only one person who can tell me. Herself? Herself. Is, uh... Is Mr. Casey here? Come in, miss. Lady here to see you, Mr. Casey. All right, Jerry, wait downstairs. All right. I didn't think she'd come. I shouldn't have come, but I had to. I got your note. Oh, I'm glad to see you here, Lady Helen. Are you? Well, you don't seem very glad about being here. No, I... I can't pretend to be. If you hadn't written that note, I should never have seen you again. Why not? I know you're Dennis Reardon. Ah. Father told me without knowing it. That's how they knew you'd be at the market. Through me. I can't apologize. That wouldn't mean anything. Because I'm not your friend. I'm your enemy. Did you tell them you were meeting me here today? No. Did you look to see if anybody apologize? There was no one. I hadn't betrayed you. Today. Why did you come here at all? I thought it would be honorable to come and explain why I did it. But now that I am here, I don't feel very honorable about it. I can't explain it at all. Except that what made me do it was stronger than I was. Inform on a man. And then tell him about it. You're a strange woman. Please. Try not to hate me. Oh. Oh, it's not you I hate. It's everything outside this room. All the things that have done this. No. Now don't go. I must. Because even if you don't hate me, what I did proves that we could never be friends. But we must never see each other again. You know that now, don't you? Yes. Yes, I know it now. But all the years after you've gone from me, I'll be thinking of what might have been. And maybe it will be good to know if we both thought of it the same way. Maybe it would. Every evening for a month I'd have asked you to meet me at the hilltop. What would you have said when I asked you? I'd have said thank you. And all through the summer evenings we'd have walked in the hills. Side by side. Not talky much. Yes. And then one evening I'd have put my arm around you. And us walking alone in the moonlight. What would you have said then? I don't think I'd have said anything. And then we'd have walked slower and slower and stopped. And I'd have said it's an honest and a beautiful woman you are. Please, you must. Oh, but I must. And I'd have said I love you. I love you. And after we were married, we'd be on the farm and county go away. And then find horses together. And us laughing crazy all the day. Please, please don't. And at evening we're sitting down in our own cool house with the country tablecloth on the table and the white bread and the strong red tea in our cups. Goodbye. Goodbye. God help us both. Oh, Helen. My darling. Don't stand near the window, Dennis. It's not a street in Dublin anymore. It doesn't look like any street in the world. Come here. There isn't any Ireland or England. There isn't any world outside this room. That's what I was feeling too. Only my imagination's not working very good. It's a bit staggered, maybe. It's because I never dared dream of you all my life. Ireland was the only woman I ever knew. Ireland was my mother and my sister and my wife. Oh, Dennis. In your slow English way. Are you ready to say it now? Yes. Say it then. I love you. I love you. And Dennis, whatever happens, I'll want to be with you always. When peace comes. When peace comes, I... I'll begrudge every minute of every hour and every clock in the world until it comes. But when it does, and we're together again, we'll throw time out into the streets and shut our windows on it. Forever. Well, Jerry? Well, Jerry? Have a look at the street. What is it? Dennis? It's almost empty. There's two men in the doorway across the street, two on the corner. I don't like it. Jerry, go down and take a look at the back. They're in the back too. Dennis! You brought them with you. You betrayed him this time, just as you did. No! Down the blinds, Jerry. I tell you what was happening. Will you do as you're told? He done it properly this time. Dennis, Dennis, I'm frightened. I'm frightened, Dennis. It's a raid. They may not be coming here. They couldn't have followed me. It's all right, darling. It may be nothing at all. There's more of them now. Soldiers, they're setting up a gun on the corner. Dennis. And we talked about peace. They're locked up. Their soldiers coming down. We've got to move. We've got to move. Window, Jerry. We'll take to the roofs and hope we can reach the corner. Open it. Go ahead. Dennis, wait. Hold me. Once more, darling. Hold me close to you. Just once, just once. This can't be the last time, darling. It can't be. Go on, Jerry. Dennis. Oh, darling. It's a funny place to be saying goodbye, isn't it? Goodbye, Dennis. Goodbye, darling. They're all over the street. They'll be waiting for us at every corner. Look out. We'll never make it. We'll run into them at every turn. No, we won't. Do you see that chimney? The big one over there? Yes. Well, when I give the word, make a break for it. We can climb down it and hang on the inside. Can you do it? I can. You ready, then? Port, it's all right to climb out now. Aye. Oh. Oh, I'm that stiff and mid-joints. If I die before you, Dennis, will you do me a favour? Will you make sure that I'm not buried hanging up? Faith, that was a near thing, Dennis. It was a wonder we were unkilled entirely. The chimneys was quick-thinking, and I'm grateful to you. But on the other hand, come to think of it, neither you nor I should have been in this neighbourhood at all in the first place. You know I'd die for you, Dennis. If I was dying for the cause, too, have you forgotten the cause, Dennis? Have you forgotten O'Brien? He died for you, Dennis. And Donegal and Murphy and the 18 lads at Doneen and the ones before them. Have you forgotten them all? Have you, Dennis? Jerry, on my honour, I'll never see her again. Ah, your word is good enough for me. And you have it. I'll never see her again. This is for station identification. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System. Madeline Carroll and Brianna Hearn returned to Bush-Shotley in the third act of Beloved Enemy. But now, during intermission time, let's take a glimpse behind the scenes of Hollywood and learn something about a little-known phase of picture-making. Standing watch in the crow's nest of every studio, like the look-out man on a whaling ship, is the talent department, scanning a sea of new faces, hopefully waiting to capture another prize with a well-aimed contract. The head harpoon man at Paramount was once a New York attorney, whose name is Ted Lesser. He says a newspaper, 100 years old, brought him to Hollywood. How'd that happen, Ted? About a year and a half ago, CB, I had occasion to go to Philadelphia. There I found that old newspaper with the record of an amazing trial. It gave me an idea for a story. Very shortly thereafter, I met William LeBaron, head of production for Paramount. He agreed it would make a great picture and suggested that I write it. I called it Souls at Sea. Writers have turned from stories to executive positions in every branch of the industry. In fact, many years ago, Bill LeBaron, whom you just mentioned, used to write Vortiville Acts with me for Jesse Lasky. So I suppose you went from writer to head of the talent department. Correct. And when I told Mr. Zucker that among my legal clients had been Jack Benny, Burns and Allen, The Easy Aces, George Jessel, Fred Allen, and a number of other radio favorites, he suggested that I find some more favorites for Paramount. But this is the first time I've ever been asked to talk about it on the air. You picked the right program. You bet. It didn't take me long to discover that Lux and Talent had been keeping company in Hollywood for a long time. Talent knows the importance of a fine complexion, and Lux's toilet soap knows how to protect it. Apart from appearance, Ted, just what do you look for in a newcomer? Well, a certain amount of individuality, always coupled with determination. As soon as they come to Paramount, we start them in our school, where they learn dramatics, voice, and dancing. If we're right, it doesn't take long before our young cubs show particular talent in one of these departments. A case in point is Olympe Bradner. Olympe came to us as a dancer, but her ability as a dramatic actress so far outshone her dancing that we cast her opposite George Raft and sold at sea. Two things are set in every Friday at Paramount. Fish on the menu and your weekly auditions. Yes. They're both institutions. The purpose of the auditions being to acquaint producers and directors with the merits of new talent. We present the boys and girls we've selected from all sorts of sources, radio, vaudeville, stock companies, little theaters, and some plain home folk who are brought to our attention. Our producers have been most generous in bringing these young players opportunities. And UCB, your willingness to give a newcomer a chance is proverbial in Hollywood. For example, three weeks ago, you gave a little girl named Jane Dewey a chance to appear in our auditions with a result that she'll have a role in the forthcoming picture. Improving that all producers and directors are on the alert for new personalities. And by the way, that was a very interesting couple we heard last Friday. Quite a combination, weren't they? Particularly when you know their history. The girl, Terry Ray, was discovered serving sandwiches at one of our local drive-in restaurants. The young man who played the love scene with her is, on the lot, Michael Brooke. At home in England, he is the Earl of Warwick, who got his first acting chance in the Buccaneer. A democratic place, Hollywood, where a little waitress plays a scene with a British peer, each hoping to get a part in a picture. Thank you, CB. Thank you, Ted. Madeleine Carroll, Brian Ahurn, Barbara Smith and Donald Crisp, in Beloved Enemy. The sparing of peace in Ireland, Lord Athleys returning to England with a recommendation for drastic military action. The boat plows heavily through Dublin Bay. At the rail, Helen sadly watches the lights of the city disappearing in the fog. Her father comes from his cabin and stands beside her. There's a long silence. Then he takes her hand in his. Hello, India. You mustn't take it like this. I want you to know that my decision to return home had nothing to do with you, with your friendship for Dennis Reardon. Although I can't pretend that the whole incident hasn't been a shocking nightmare to me. It's quite beyond my understanding. There's no need for you to understand it now. You mean by that it won't happen again? Yes. Best of us go off the track now and then. The main thing is to get back. Father, don't talk to me as if I were a child. I've done nothing I regret. Nothing compared to what you've done. Helen. Maybe I did go off the track, but at worst it was only a matter of wrecking myself. With you it's wrecking four million people. Helen, what are you talking about? You came to Ireland to make peace. And now you're going back with a recommendation of war. Drastic military measures, you said. Bullets in their bodies and grenades in their faces. Is that a way to stop bloodshed? You've tried it for years and failed. Why can't you try something else? Helen, control yourself. You're not talking sense. Is it sense to think you can mow down the young men of two countries, theirs and ours too, and not leave a hatred that will last a thousand years? If you have gone mad, not I, why can't you treat them as human beings? War. Can't you see what it will mean? Can't you see? Helen. Helen. Good evening, Lady Helen. Won't you come in? Is my father still in the council room present? Yes, they've been in there all day. He'd tell you for me to meet him here. I... father. Good evening, my dear. Is there any news? Very good, so far. The commission has agreed to talk it over with the Irish delicates. You've done it. That's wonderful. Ah, don't be too optimistic, my dear. It'll only be a temporary truce. Nothing may come of it. We've merely guaranteed them a safe conduct if they'll come here for conferences. But they must. If they do come, we'll have a reception for them at the house. Our house? Yes. He'll be with them, Helen. Dennis Riordan. I shall hold you to your promise. Duchess of Newcastle. The Portuguese ambassador and madame Zamora. Northern lady. Well, Lord Athery, any word of our friends, the Irish? And, except as they arrived this morning rather late, awkward if they don't come. You know, I never thought that. But tell me, is this Riordan really coming, Dennis Riordan? I suppose so. Nobody's here. Harry, look. There they are at the door. All six of them. Yes, it's all one, Riordan. They've come. Well, that's something anyway. Are we all together, gentlemen? Well, let's go through with it and call it history we are making. Names, please. What? What name shall I announce? Liam Dureg, Seamus Flaherty, Cahill McGarrel, Thomas Braga, Mihal Cahalan, Donna Ray Headon. I beg your pardon, sir. Liam Dureg, Seamus Flaherty, Cahill McGarrel. I never mind. Just announce the delegates of the Irish Republic. That's the fine spirit. The delegates of the Irish Republic. Republic. Delegates of a republic. What internal cheek. Republican dude. Oh, wow. Helen. Helen, dear. Don't look at me. Pretend you're watching the crowd. Welcome to England, then. Ah, you're so beautiful. Oh, darling, if I could just touch your hand. Darling, if only you could. We can't see each other alone. I gave my oath. I had to do something like that, too. Do you want me to leave? No, please. Oh, it's torture seeing you like this. It's better than not seeing you at all. Darling. Darling, what things in your life happened in this room? Over there's where I played the harp when I was 14. In a pink dress. And in that room? My mother's sitting room. I used to say my prayers in there before she died. Then, for ten years, I never went into it once. Till now. And do you pray there now? For peace? And for you. I pray there for you. Oh, Dennis. Fredon. Hi. We've made our appearance here, and they've all had a chance to stare at us. I'm thinking if we have an un-meeting tomorrow, it's time to go home. Very well. Good night, Lady Helen. Good night, Mr. Burke. Good night, Lady Helen. It's a satisfactory arrangement. I claim the Irish delegates are reaching for the moon. The moon is it? We ask for a Republican, you tell us it's the moon. But you've continually avoided consideration of what we came for. You knew what was in our minds when we came. We hoped it was in yours. I heard the leniency of our friends. And bade the continuation of this conference tomorrow. I can hold our little hope that anything further can be accomplished. Before we all take an irrevocable step, we consent to one more meeting. Sit down, sit down, Dennis. There's nothing to be gained but pulling a long face. They sent their best to Guinness, and we didn't flinch. What I want to know is, are we going to compromise with them? We're not. There's half of us once it, and there's half of us doesn't. Dennis Redan has the deciding vote, and we know his feelings. Am I right? Dennis, here, where are you going? I'm going for a walk. Is this out of the night? I've been cooped up in rooms with people for four days. I want to get out by myself. Award with you, Dennis. Come here. Maybe I don't know your mind. Maybe you're willing to sign that treaty. But remember this, you took an oath. And if you break that oath, you'll be a dead man, the miniature set foot in Ireland. Ah, get out of my way. What are you doing here? I've been looking for you. The clock at the hotel said you'd gone out across the bridge. I had to speak to you. I was afraid to call. But I've sworn not to see you. And I've sworn too. But why shouldn't we? We're two small people in a very large world. They can't begrudge us this. Dennis, what's going to happen tomorrow? Are you going to accept England's terms? It's war if you don't. I know. It's my vote that will decide it. Yours? Then vote for peace, Dennis. Vote to sign the treaty. Don't think of the loss. Think of the half you've gained. I can't forget the lads who died. Remember those who want to live. One of us must be big enough to compromise. Don't you see that? Dennis, sign the treaty. You don't know what you're asking, Helen. I've sworn to support my people. I'm only saying what your people would say if they called. This is a hopeless argument. You're talking in a teacup. I'm talking like a human being. Remember what you said. That you'd begrudge every minute of every hour on every clock in the world until peace comes. Well, it's here. Peace is here, Dennis. If you'll just say the word. Don't let me alone, Helen. Dennis. Oh, darling. Forgive me. All of this means so little. We're nothing, you and I. It's the right of our whole people to live and to be happy. Help them, Dennis. Help them. Good night, Dennis. Good night, my darling. Here's the paper. Irish agreed to sign treaty. Dennis Riordan signed treaty today. England will sign first. The pale, Lord Athlean. Thank you. Ah, I really don't know what my party will say to this. It's political suicide for me, Mr. Riordan. Perhaps for both of us. Did you say political, Lord Athlean? Append. Then he stood up in the meeting. It's peace that Ireland wants, she said. We'll take the treaty home with us tonight. And then he signed? I've come to respect that man, Helen. The bravest man I've ever known. Heaven help him. Father, what's wrong? When he signed the treaty, he admitted he was signing his own death warrant. Death warrant? He's going home to great danger. No. The genetics of his own party, Burke, perhaps, they'll turn against him as a traitor. They can't do that. He's not a traitor. He only wanted peace. Father, you've got to help him. How can I, Helen? What can I do? Then I'll help him. I'll tell them why he did it. I'll see the leaders of his party myself. Helen! Let me alone! I'm going to Ireland! I'm going to Dennis! And a good thing, too. There's peace in Ireland. There's some don't think so. He's speaking tonight. A meeting in the square. Speaking to the crowd. I have a bullet don't stop him. A bullet? Free people! The glory that is Ireland's now, we owe to those no longer here. The glory that will be Ireland's, rests with you. We look to the future, to the youth of Ireland, for our land and our ideals are their inheritance. I'm glad you're here. Now shut your eyes and be very quiet. It's such a little time to see you. It's always such a little time. Our love's been like Solomon Grandi's life. Born on Monday. Married on Wednesday. And on Sunday. It's been a funny kind of love. A funny kind of love. We knew in the beginning. We never had a chance. We're going to have our chance now. Oh, Dennis. We're going to live with each other the way other young people live. Oh, my darling. When you're well, we'll never talk about anything important again. Your hair is such a fine color. I never had the time to tell you. You will. And that's a pretty dress you're wearing. I like your dresses. Just wait and see the dresses I'll wear for you. And I like the way you walk. Not looking where you're going. Some day you'll fall down and break your lovely neck. Oh, darling, does it hurt? No, it's funny. We said goodbye to each other every time we've met. It's not goodbye. We'll always be with each other. Always. That's right. We'll never say goodbye because we'll always meet again somewhere. Won't we, darling? Yes. We'll never say goodbye. We'll always be together. Somewhere. And so, Beloved Enemy joins the long procession of Luxe Radio Theatre Productions. Later, we'll hear again from Brianna Urn and Madeline Carroll. The next time you see a film with war scenes, such as Beloved Enemy, bear in mind that you're witnessing the most dangerous and realistic phase of motion pictures. A phase in which our next guest is unsurpassed. The explosions that occur in the midst of actors that apparently blow them to pieces are not trick explosions. They're caused by those deadly instruments of destruction, dynamite, flash powder, and black powder. And the fact that no one's actually harmed is to the everlasting credit of men like our guest, Walter J. Hoffman. In his grimy, powder-stained hands have rested literally the lives of 100,000 actors. For 27 years, he's devoted himself to death and disaster. He started battle after battle, wiped out countless armies, discharged enough ammunition for a dozen wars, and has actually destroyed millions of dollars in property. Yet he has the amazing record of never injuring a soul, never causing an accident. He created the battle scenes in the birth of a nation and helped me in one of the first pictures I ever made, the warrens of Virginia. And so, I've gone to him ever since. In the old days, we called him Slim Hoffman, and he bore the title of powder monkey. But today they call me Mr. Hoffman and tell me I'm a special effects man. Apart from the safety of our actors, which is always the first consideration in our minds, we've also learned to depend on you, Slim, to do a technically perfect job the first time. Retakes in your line could easily cost us hundreds of thousands of dollars. Yes. Once a building or battlefield is blown up, the usual stays blown up. There's not much you can do about it. To show how great an expense is involved, suppose you tell our audience what a good battle scene will cost. Well, here's an idea of the amount of money I blew up and all quite on the western front. 61 tons of dynamite at $340 a ton, 20 tons of gun powder at $800 a ton, and 16 tons of smoke powder at $2,000 a ton. And that doesn't begin to show the value of what those explosives blew up. When you get orders to prepare a battlefield for battle, how do you go about the big blowout or blowup? I do exactly what I did for you in the Buccaneer. You told me how many long shots you wanted and how many close-ups. And then I planted the charges of the explosives accordingly. The fact that several times you see Frederick March actually shaken by the concussions of explosions near him is evidence of how effectively you planted them. Also the fact that we blew a boat containing eight men several feet out of water without scratching a man. I suppose we can thank the accuracy of the instrument on which you play your symphonies of destruction, the switchboard that sets off the explosions. The switchboard resembles a keyboard of a piano and each charge buried in the ground is connected by a wire to the switchboard and set off by electricity. Each individual switch must be thrown exactly the right second. If I throw it too late or too soon, some actor who is charging in that direction would be blown to pieces by the concussion. Yet if they carry out instructions, actors can stand within a few feet of a terrific charge of explosives and not harm so much as the crease of their uniforms. It's all in the way the explosion is planted or buried. If I want to charge a burst to the right of an actor, I'll plant the powder in a wedge-shaped hole. The side of the hole nearest to the actor will go straight in the ground. The other side will slope into the ground at an angle. The angle is what aims the direction of the explosion. As long as the actor stays where he belongs, he's absolutely safe. We can't mark the location of the explosive because the mark would show up in the film. This means that sometimes I have to memorize the exact locations of as many as 20 different explosions. Knowing that a mistake in timing or a location will mean death. I guess that's why I take my work pretty seriously. Thank you. Thank you, Slim, for a bang-up performance. And now, Brianna Hearn and Madeleine Carroll. The last time I was here, Mr. DeMille, I played an Englishman to an Irish girl, but tonight I'm quite on the other side of the fence. I, um, I feel especially glad to have had the opportunity of playing my old part in Beloved Enemy this Christmas because in a world which lies in the shadow of wars and threats of wars, it's a story which reaffirms the Christmas message of the necessity for peace and goodwill among men. I would like to wish you, Mr. DeMille, and everybody in the Lux Radio Theater tonight and all those who may be listening in a very happy new year. Thank you, Brian. And now, after four months abroad, Miss Carroll, you should have a lot to tell us. Before I do that, I want to say that while it's been just one year since I was here last, I haven't forgotten this program or the product behind it, Lux Toilet Soap. I'm sincerely glad of the opportunity of telling you how much I enjoy using it. And as for the trip abroad, I was greatly impressed by one thing. Wherever I went, I was always asked the same question. What do the American people think of us? I realized then as never before what a responsibility we of the films have. In our small way, we can be ambassadors of goodwill not only for Hollywood, but for America. And I did my best to tell them how eager this nation is for friendship and harmony. Yes, this year of 1937 has had its grim aspects, but let us fervently hope that as the old year fades, it will carry away with it doubts and distrust that the new year will bring the world a new outlook of peace and understanding. Good night. Good night, Miss Carol. Miss Carol appeared for courtesy of Walter Wenzel Productions. Mr. Rehearn is now making Merrily We Live at Hal Road Studios. C. Aubrey Smith is from Selznick International Studios and Donald Crisp from Warner Brothers. Lewis Silvers is from 20th Century Fox Studios and was in charge of music for their new picture, Love and Hisses. Back again to Mr. DeMille. The Lux Radio Theatre starts its new year with a flourish next Monday night. When we bring you, Claudette Colbert, Fred McMurray, and Walter Connolly. The drama in which you'll hear them was originally written as a novel by that master Booth Tarkington, and later became a hit film. A simple, tender romance of universal appeal. The story of a small town girl who tried so hard to be worthy of the man she loved. Its title, Alice Adams. Our sponsors, the makers of Lux Toilets Oak, join me in inviting you to be with us again next Monday night when the Lux Radio Theatre presents Claudette Colbert and Fred McMurray and Alice Adams with Walter Connolly. They join me also in saying thanks to you for your support of their products, which enabled them to bring you this program throughout 1937. With your help, they'll make 1938 the greatest year in the history of the Lux Radio Theatre, a program dedicated to your entertainment. It's the sincere hope of all of us who work continually here in the Lux Radio Theatre with this weekly presentation that the new year will bring all of you the things you most desire, the things closest to your hearts. This is Cecil B. DeMille saying good night to you from Hollywood. Musical selection of pretty girls like a melody is from the Sigmund Feldholleys of 1919. Your announcers, DeMilleville Roy. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.