 Madeline Carroll in This Our Exile, an original radio play on the cavalcade of America sponsored by Dupont. The story of Exile has been with us since the beginning of time, yet it is as pertinent today as it was 2,000 years ago when millions were driven from their homes by the conquering Romans. Throughout the world today people are being torn from their loved ones, children from their mothers, wives from their husbands. The little town of Ledyatse, Czechoslovakia, reminds us of these ravages of total war. This classic story of Exile was suggested by Nathaniel Hawthorne to Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, who wrote the immortal poem, Evangeline. Our play tonight, written by Norman Rostin, is inspired by that poem in memory of that time and our own. Dupont, maker of better things for better living through chemistry, presents Madeline Carroll as Evangeline on the cavalcade of America. I have the following orders for your village. It is decreed that the village be evacuated by all its inhabitants by nightfall. The men of the village will meet in a body of the Northfield past the church. The women will meet at the heart. How long ago have I heard those words? What have I really heard them? Or are they words I remember from a history I never lived? Is it true that such things have happened? Yes, they have all happened. The years have gone by. Everything is real. My long journey has at last come to an end and I can rest. There is time now to rest. I have just come from the room where Gabriel sleeps, my beloved. My lips are still warm with the warmth of his lips and I, Evangeline, can tell the story now. What else is left but the telling? This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks faded with moss and in garments green indistinct in the twilight stand like druids of old with voices sad and prophetic. Are you sleeping? Are you sleeping? Come to the fellow's lad and enough of your singing. Oh, no better time, father, than before a man's wedding. You're singing before and be wailing after. No, not with Evangeline. Oh, steady boy, steady. You may be married tomorrow, but today you're shooing horses. Well, the shoe's ready now. Out of the pod. There. Hold it for him now. All right. Listen. Huh? The village bell. Those warships in the harbor. Oh, now, son, they've stopped only to take on provision. I don't like the looks of it. They're riding at anchor for two days. That's time enough to load. Now, if you ask me, it's Evangeline, father. Excuse me. We've got this shoeing to finish, remember? Well, you just tell the horse I won't be for the moment. Gabriel. Evangeline. I kiss you with my hands. We're cleaner. Let's do the kissing and not hands. Oh, how beautiful you are. I have come to remind you, sir, to be prompt tonight at the house, for the priest will be there and the notary with papers to sign. I shall sign away my soul. And I, too. Should you ever want it back? Never. Oh, today is the longest day of my life. The hours are jealous of us, darling. They take so long in class. Gabriel, change the girl off. The horse won't stand forever. Goodbye, my sweet, until tonight. Safer are we unarmed in the midst of our flocks and our cornfields. Safer, within these peaceful dykes besieged by the ocean, then were our fathers in forts besieged by the enemy's cannon. Fear no evil, my friend. And tonight may no shadow of sorrow fall on this house and heart. For this is the night of the contrary. And now, Gabriel, you will sign here, beneath Evangeline's mane. Oh, that looks easy enough. Well, try to unsign it, my lad. Next week can see how easy it is. Do you recall, Bazar, when our children were but learning to walk, how we pledged them to one another? Oh, yes. I was there, too, Benedict. All the village remembers it. And weren't we consulted, father? Yes. I asked you in front of Gabriel. I said, Evangeline, without take Gabriel 15 years hence. And what did she reply to that? She said not a word and struck you on the head with a spoon. Hold this. The village bells again. Why do they ring, Gabriel? What brings you here, Clammit? And you, Harold? We came to find Basil the blacksmith. We want the man who can make weapons. Weapons? What's happened? The warships in the harbor. They've turned their guns toward the town. The town? What are you saying? Some of them came ashore and posted handbills. We're to hear an edict tomorrow. If they've come for trouble, they shall find high. We've got some men for clip. And plenty of pitchfork. Wait. Let us be calm. We've lived here in peace for generations. And there's nothing to harm us if we remain peaceful. We'd best see how some of the others feel about that. Ready, Harold? Hold on. I'll be with you. We shall all go. It is a matter for all of us. Gabriel, don't go. I must. Things may happen tomorrow. Tomorrow is our day. It belongs to us alone. What if they say otherwise? Nothing will happen, darling. Nothing must happen. Oh, let me hold you close. Gabriel, who would be evil enough to steal it away from us, this one day in a century of days? At this very moment, morning is in preparation, gathering all its brightness for us. And we have nothing to fear, Gabriel. Nothing to fear. Yet were her thoughts of him, and the times of feeling of sadness past all her soul. And as she gazed from the window, she saw serenely the moon pass forth from the folds of a cloud. And one star followed her footsteps. As out of Abraham's tent, young Ishmael wandered with Hager. Evangeline? Yes, Father. It is almost time. I can see them from my window. The villagers are on the green, and children dancing. I will walk to your left, so that I might be nearer to your heart, while longer. You shall always be near my heart. Are you happy, child? Yes, I'm happy. So happy I'm afraid it is a dream, and a loud noise might awaken me. Come, Father. They are waiting. Evangeline? Gabriel. I've never seen you more lovely. Everyone's staring. May I kiss you? You may. Evangeline, will you need the dance for us? We love Gabriel both. Here on the green. It's nice. It looks pretty tuneful. Can you all join in? What's next? Soldiers. Soldiers coming up the hill. What do they want? They've come to read the edict. Get the children away. Friends, friends, be calm. Let us not be moved to panic. Else we will bring only bloodshed. Be quiet and have strong heart. Heart! At ease. Men and women of this village is hereby decreed that your village be evacuated of all its inhabitants by nightfall. For military reasons. That is the order. Those who do not obey or in any manner obstruct will be shot. That is all. Any questions? Where shall we go? Will you drive women and children out into the night? Do you think we're cattle? You, drag him here. Tie him to that tee. Leave him alone. You won't take him. Hold that girl. Let him go to here. Let him go. Silence! Now give him three lashes as a warning. Any more questions? Come away from the window, please. Half the village is burning. They put our village to the torch. The crops, the barns, the horses, everything. Come away. It is dangerous. What is to become of us? It all happened so suddenly. I feel so old. Where can I turn? Who is it? Gabriel? Oh, my dearest, have they hurt you? They shall pay for it. We'll make them pay. Oh, how evil it is to be an old man. If I were young, I would fight with my hands with stones. Where are you going, father? To the barn, to free the horses. I must hide my plow, my new plow. It all happened so suddenly. Today was meant to be for us. There's still a chance to escape. Perhaps we can try. They whipped me, but my hands tied me, smiled. We'll take care of their smiling faces. What are you going to do? Some of the men are slipping off to the hills to fight back. Gabriel, no. You'll be hunted like an animal. You'll be caught. Better to be hunted like an animal than chained like one. There must be another way. There must be. Oh, Gabriel, I fear I shall never see you again. Take me with you. There they are. Try to live near the river. I'll search when the time comes, and I'll find you. I may starve and bleed, but I'll find you, revenge. Gabriel. Goodbye. Teach me patience, dear God, for I do not wish to live. Teach me to know time differently, so that it goes swiftly and does not cause pain. And if he should die, let me enter your kingdom with him. You are listening to Madeline Carroll as Evangeline. In an original radio play, this our exile on the Cavalcade of America, sponsored by DuPont. Many a weary year had passed since the burning. Friendless, homeless, hopeless, they wandered from city to city. From the bleak shores of the sea to the lands where the father of waters seizes the hills in his hands and drags them down to the ocean. Friends, they sought, and homes. And many despairing, heartbroken, asked of the earth but aggrieved. It is nearly evening, and soon you will sleep. I am going to die. No, Father. Don't be frightened, child. I am too old a tree to take root in a new place. And, uh, are you here? Yes, Benedict. Everything was burned. The crops, the barns, the horses. Evangeline, give me your hand. Best Father, let me fix your pillow. Oh, Gabriel, one day you return to the village and allow again. I have hidden a plow in the well. Let me look there. I, Gabriel, tell him. Father. Evangeline, don't grieve. He will be happier now. Anna, we shall bury him. Then we shall secure a boat and a guide. And the three of us shall journey back upstream. But that is dangerous. I must find Gabriel. I know that somewhere, perhaps this very moment, he is waiting for me in the hills near our village. I need him now more than ever. Gabriel it was who weary with waiting, unhappy and restless, sought in the western wilds oblivion of self and of sorrow. And so, Father, you'll tell the men that I am leaving the hills. I go to find Evangeline. There are not too many of us left. We shall need every man. Have I not fought well? Have I not lost blood in these hills? We'll answer. So have we all fought and bled? Yes. While we fight here, the enemy burns and loots in the south. Evangeline's in danger there. Where are people not in danger? It's only Evangeline I think of now. If she is harmed, I'll kill until I die. Day and night I'll kill. But where, my son? Where do you go? Down the river. I instructed her when she left. She's somewhere in a village to the south. I leave tonight downstream. And I must not fail. Day after day they glided along the turbulent river. Night after night by their blazing fires and camped on its borders. But Evangeline's heart was sustained by a vision that faintly floated before her eyes and beckoned her on through the moonlight. Through those shadowy aisles had Gabriel wandered before her and every stroke of the oar now brought him nearer and nearer. Have you heard of such a man? No, we have not heard of the blacksmith Gabriel. Oh, I am sorry. He is a blacksmith. Gabriel a blacksmith? No. Multitudinous echoes awoke and died in the distance. Over the watery floor and beneath the reverberant branches. But not a voice replied. No answer came from the darkness. And when the echoes had ceased, like a sense of pain was the silence. Ah, it is a bad night with father. We will stop here. How far have we traveled? About 20 miles. We have reached up a stove with stones. Anna, wait. Did you hear anything? Out there on the river. Oh, it is a fisherman perhaps no more. Can you hear there's someone calling out there? I feel he is close. Somewhere on the river nearby. You know Evangeline, it is nothing. You are tired at the end of the day. We'll rest. You need rest. Name is Gabriel. Gabriel a blacksmith. We have a new blacksmith in our village named Basil. Basil? Quickly, where does he live? You are in front of his house now. He is sharply blowed. Oh, thank you. Thank you. Who is it? Evangeline? Basil, where is he? Tell me. He's gone. Gone? A fortnight ago in search of you. But we'll go after him, child. He's gone downstream. Downstream? Yes. Then it was his voice I heard. Gabriel's voice so close. After all the numberless hours to pass each other in the darkness. Not that day nor the next found a trace of his course in lake or forest or river. So came the autumn and past and the winter. Yet Gabriel came now. Evangeline child, you can't go on this way. It's three years now. Only three? All my loneliness spent such a short time. No, I am older and my heart is in mourning. Evangeline, the young lad who comes to visit you from the village. Yes. He wishes to marry you. He told me so. You must tell him that I am betrothed to Gabriel. My room is prepared. I will sit here until my hair turns white. Evangeline. I will watch the trees take on leaf and lose their leaves over and over each year until he returns. Child, child, you cannot waste your life. You cannot. Evangeline, there is news. We've heard from him in a village near the border in a hospital. Hospital? Do you hear what I say, Evangeline? Yes, Anna. I hear. And I am ready. My darling. Who is in the room? Gabriel, it is I. You're Evangeline. Evangeline is gone. She's vanished from the earth. No, no. Turn your head. Here. Put your hand on my face. No. Yes. No, I dare not believe it. Hope I could see you now. To see you. Hold me. Kiss me. Again. Again. I... I tried to find you. I tried. And I too. I should never have left you. Gabriel, what has happened to our world? Our life? You want it so little. We asked only for the little thing. For a house and food and love. We asked only to live on this earth. Murder came to it. And tyranny. I've loved you every moment. A sleep and a wake. All these years. Thought only for you. And now... Gabriel. Gabriel, talk to me. Gabriel. Sleep then. Sleep here in my arms. In darkness you go into darkness. And so my journey ends. In this room far from war. The world shall one day need your blacksmith's sharp Gabriel. And Benedict's plow. And the peace of cities. After hate is swept from the earth forever. And its killers destroyed once and for all time and forever. Then it will be quiet again. Life for lovers. And the brave generations to come. Thank you, Madeleine Carroll. Ladies and gentlemen, in just a moment we will hear from Miss Carroll again. Meanwhile, we have a story about the way chemistry is freeing ships for the transportation of war material. In 1921, government officials listed 42 strategic materials vital to war which had to be imported, either wholly or partially. Thanks in part to chemistry, metallurgy and their related sciences only 15 are on the list now. What this means to us in our battle against the dark powers of the axis might well spell the difference between defeat and victory. To single out one benefit that means everything to us at this time it means a tremendous saving in ships. For instance, a bridge of ships spanning the Atlantic spaced only a trifle over one mile apart would be needed to bring to America in one trip just five of the many vital war products the chemical industry has developed since 1917. The five new products are nitrates for explosives and fertilizers, chemical rubber, dye stuffs for uniforms for military equipment in your clothing, fibers such as nylon and rayon, and last camphor used medicinally and in the manufacture of many chemical products essential to the war. We used to import all of our nitrates while we still import some much of the nitrogen so essential to war and agriculture is taken from the air by chemical methods. Chemical rubber is coming along. Twenty years ago we imported nearly all of our dyes. Today we make nearly all of them. Nylon is demonstrating its superiority and camphor which the Japanese also used to control we manufacture chemically today from pine trees. Take only those five products. To bring them to America from abroad and the quantities we're using this year or the quantities we used to import would call for nearly 2,700 cargo vessels and the distance from New York to an Irish port is roughly 2,800 miles. So if you space ships a little more than a mile apart between the United States and Europe across the entire Atlantic that's the number of cargo vessels chemistry has set free for other vital war uses. And vital as those ships are to the war effort they're only the beginning of the story. For even if we had 2,700 ships to spare today with the single exception of nitrates from Chile we couldn't get those raw materials to fill them because those foreign sources of raw material are no longer available to us. Modern industrial chemistry however gives America a kind of preparedness that is almost infinitely productive and adaptable infinitely broad in scope providing in war weapons for victory and in peace better things for better living through chemistry. And now the star of tonight's cavalcade Miss Madeline Carroll. Thank you ladies and gentlemen. It has been many years since Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote the poem Evangeline which served as the inspiration for tonight's cavalcade yet it is a sad and bitter irony that it could be written about today for today is in no other time in history more people are homeless than it exiled and ever before. If in our play tonight you found more than a story if it reminded you that our way of life is worth the many sacrifices we are all being called upon to make then all of us here will bow with with more than a player's gratitude. Thank you. Next week ladies and gentlemen cavalcade will again present Madeline Carroll the play written especially for her is called I Mary Washington a story of a great mother the mother of our first president. Don't forget next week on cavalcade Madeline Carroll in I Mary Washington the orchestra and original score tonight were under the direction of Don Buries this is Clayton Collier sending best wishes from Dupont this program came to you from New York this is the National Broadcasting Company