 The DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware, makers of better things for better living through chemistry, presents the Cadillacade of America. Our story, Operation Miracle. Our star, Robert Trustin. This is a story that happened to a man named Edward Ellsberg. Captain United States meeting. His assignment, Perform a Miracle. It was early 1942, four months after Pearl Harbor. American flying fortresses were rolling off the runways of England. In the Pacific, GIs were hacking a perilous path through the jungles of New Guinea. But our story begins in Washington, D.C. in the office of Captain Edward Ellsberg. Look, Joe, diving's my business, you know that. All right, all right, but for what's the Navy hand you a soft bird? On top of the water instead of under it. Now why don't you relax, Captain? I can't sleep in soft birds. I'm supposed to be a troubleshooter. What kind of trouble can you shoot at sitting behind a desk in Washington waiting for an assignment? Give me a submarine or anything else that needs salvaging. Problems under water, and I know what I'm doing. Well, come in. Oh, I'm sorry, Captain. I didn't know you were busy. I'm not. That's the trouble. Come on in, Johnny. Well, sir, I finally got my papers. I'm glad I'll be working for you. Working, he says. Oh, have you met Joe Hilly yet? You two civilian divers ought to know each other. No, sir, I'm glad to meet you, Mr. Hurley. How are you, Johnny? We three will be working together if we ever get an assignment. Now you'd better hop over to the administration, Johnny. They'll square you away. Aye, aye, sir. Right now. Well, that boot hasn't shaved yet. He's still wet behind the ears. We were too, Joe. First time we went down. Now, Johnny's a good kid. I asked for him. Well, okay, but I... Help her. Yes? The Admiral would like to see you in his office now, sir. That's important. Very well, right away. The Admiral, huh? Wonder what he wants. Well, Joe, maybe our luck has changed at last. So clean the rust off your diving gear. This may be it. A place called Masala. No, I've never heard of it. Well, come here. Now, take a look at this wall map of Africa. There's a Red Sea, and that's the Port of Masala. I see. All right, gather it's important. More than that, it's vital. Before the war, the Italians built Masala into one of the finest naval bases in Africa. This spring, the British drove them up, but not fast enough. The Italians wrecked the base. Every piece of machinery in the port smashed. And, a 600-foot dry dock sunk in the middle of the harbor. There's the equipment of the operation. Oh, yeah. And the British flee from trouble, Ellsberg. And if we can't get them out, we'll have to lose the war in Africa. They've got a naval base at Alexandria, but the matches are bombing at Constance. Well, I can see why they need a new base, but why pick on Masala when it's demolished? Because the closest allied naval base is at Durban, South Africa. That's a long haul from the Mediterranean. It's an impossible haul. 4,000 miles. How far is Masala? 900. And here's where you come in, Ellsberg. Here are the Navy's top salvage experts. Do you remember the S-51? Well, you're the only man we've got to know how to tackle this problem. To raise and float 600 feet of dry dock. Well, that's good news for me, Admiral. I've been on the beach too long. And for Murray's job, Masala is the worst climate in the world. A steely living nightmare. But the toughest part is, you'll be fighting the clock all the way. Well, what's the time limit? We don't know. Fast enough could mean victory. Not fast enough, defeat. We can't waste a single minute. You're getting the first plane out of here tonight. Down the ground, Ed. And there she is. Masala. Yeah. She'll look hot and ugly. Well, come on, we might as well get used to it. Johnny. Aye, sir. Watch out for the gear, will you? Aye, sir. Open up, Joe. Let's get out of this plane. Right. Two. Two left hot wheels. Ooh, the heat straight out of the boiler room. Hook on the landing ladder, Joe. Yes, he is. Ooh. Nothing like climbing down a ladder right smack into an oven. Man, if I'd known what we were... Skipper, this place is deserted. Where's the welcoming committee? I don't know. There was supposed to be a British Navy lieutenant named Thornton out here to meet us. Well, there's nobody here. It's like being stranded in a graveyard. Nothing but this creepy hot wind. Oh, look, Joe, across the field. Oh, we're not alone after all. There's a Jeep. Now we can't just lean around on this heat. Come on. Let's bum a ride in a Masala. How's it go, sir? Well, this looks more like a native Bazaar than a naval base. It is, sir. Today's market, sir. And that's where we find the lieutenant Thornton and the Bazaar. He's at the harbor, sir. He'll stand there. The road's been smashed up a bit. You'll have to walk it on the parade. Okay, Joe. Climb up. Into the line. Here. Robert, thanks for the lift, Reverend. Go back and pick up the other man in our gear. Right, sir. Come on, sir. Oh, don't we have time for little spicy and skipperies. Get a load of this Bazaar. African natives all over the place. Fancy big necklaces. Rugs. Bastards. Oh, we're not tourists. Come on. Let's go find Lieutenant Thornton. We've got work to do. There she is, Captain. What used to be the Masala Naval Base. A pile of rubble. Smashed machinery. Not much to work with. Well, Thornton, I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. They told me it was bad. Is that all they told you? Well, they gave me a rundown on the problem. Including the four cruisers. What cruisers? Captain. Four British cruisers. That's all they've got left. They're trapped in the Mediterranean, limping around at half speed, crying for repairs, and no place to go unless they can come into Masala. All their hopes have pinned on you, sir. I see. Well, didn't the Italians have anything to work with? There isn't a single piece of equipment that hasn't been wrecked in one way or another. Oh, happy picture. Well, we just have to put these machines together again. Spit and string and sweat, that's all. I'm afraid that's not all. Our entire labor force is made up of Italian prisoners and unskilled natives. Not exactly. Hand-picked men, what? Well, the prisoners will resent us. The natives will have to be taught. Here's a very pretty picture. If you come to check, they call me a donor. If you're alive, we'll keep out of it. Button, here's your ring. I cannot understand this Italian. What are they grumbling about? Same complaint, sir. It's too hot to work. We're all hot. And we're all tired. But we've got to keep on until we get this machine shop operating. Give them extra water and more soft fabrics. Yes, sir. And after we get this shop going, we pull that dock up off the bottom. That ought to give them a whole new batch of complaints. Take a good look at that harbor. Half a mile out there, eight fathoms down, is our big fat baby. Six hundred feet of dry dock. Oh, lead me to it. I haven't been in a diving helmet in so long I'll feel like a dame with a new hat. I wonder what was flowing down there. Whatever it is, sir. I'll be ready for it. Well, listen to peach fuzz. What do you mean you'll be ready for it? Just what I said. Now listen, kid. Going down there is a man. All right, Joe. Still the argument. I'm making the first dive myself. But Skipper, why? Because we don't know what's down there. And until we do, you're not going to walk in there blind. Oh. Sing out, Skipper. Sing out. What's the matter with this phone? You've been down there a long time. Is something wrong? Well, you never know when you've got a man on the bottom of the ocean. Now, Johnny, how's that air pressure? It's starting to burn. Hey, what's he doing down there? Hello below. Sing out. There he is. Pull me up, Joe. Okay. Skipper, up your turn. Johnny, it's not the wind. Right. So you look like you've been in a turkey's bath. The water's 95 degrees right down to the bottom. Get me out of this breastplate, will you? Hey, yeah, sure. The poof, what'd you find? There's a pot of cake down there. Underwater? Yes, and we're sitting smack on top of it. But the dock, sir? The dock is it. That dock was built in eight watertight compartments. And checked each one. Seven of them have holes in their bottoms big enough to drive a launch through. Only that eight compartments intact. What? I don't get it. The Italians put demolition bombs in those eight compartments, and seven of them blew. But the bomb in number eight never went off. It's sitting in there waiting just for us. Holy cow. We've got a death trap inside that compartment. Now, if we try to raise the dock vibration, it could shut the bomb off and blow us all in the next week. Skip it. What do we do? There's only one thing to do. Go back down and get that bomb. If I'm lucky, we can get it to the surface. Darn it, give me my gear. Right. Where do you think you're going? At the bottom, Skip it. With you. At this time, I'm not waiting for an invitation. I'm just going. To get them into it? Sure, Skip it. And if we're lucky, we bring it off. If we are lucky, if we aren't lucky, Joe, you can come on one thing. We won't be around here to talk about it, speaking for the DuPont Company. You have to spend money to make money. That old saying is certainly true of industry. Every business firm in America, large or small, buys many things from its neighbors. Just to give you an idea, in 29 DuPont plants located in the states of New York, New Jersey, Virginia, West Virginia, Tennessee, South Carolina and Texas, home area buying for goods and services amounted to more than $123 million in 1951. During that year, payrolls for these same plants came to almost $210 million. These and many other dollars that locally helped DuPont neighbors, and at the same time, they helped DuPont to make better things for a better living through chemistry. We returned to our cavalcade story, Operation Miracles, starring Robert Preston as Captain Edward Ellsberg. It was June, 1942, and the place was Masawa, Africa. A naval base had been wrecked by the enemy. Captain Ellsberg's assignment? Perform a miracle. Put Masawa back in shape. Part of that miracle is happening at this moment, 50 feet underwater. Two man in diving suits, gray shadowy figures in the mysterious depth of the shark-infested Red Sea, are cautiously edging past a great black hulk of a sunken dry dock. The topside on the diving barge is Johnny Ellsberg and Herlia below in water almost too hot to endure. Two sets of vital lines run from the diving barge to the men on the bottom. One, the life-giving air hose. The other, a telephone line that divers only communication with each other. The two divers are moving on a slow, tortuous path toward the hatch of compartment number eight, a path leading to an unexploded demolition bomb lying inside that compartment. A path that may lead to a date with death. Can you hear me, Johnny? Sing out. Intercom connected. Do you hear me? Got you, Skipper. What's happening down there? Hurley and I are moving toward the compartment. Give us more slack. More slack? All right. We're passing up in the murky depths of the water. The eyes are riveted on the gun-metal bulk of a huge man-eating shark swimming slowly toward them. A gigantic fish nudges the airlines with its long body and for a long agonizing moment it hovers there staring balefully at the two silent figures. And then, slowly, it turns and glides away. The head of them is an open hatch, a square door that may lead to death, to the dark cavern of compartment number eight. Somewhere inside that compartment, swallowed in the blackness is the unexploded demolition bomb. Slowly, Ellsberg inches his way through the hatch, his cumbersome diving suit making every delicate step of difficult maneuver. Hurley follows you. Joe, let's get back to Missawa, all of a sudden. A part of Missawa's dubious charm. Sir, we call them desert sandblows. They're not serious. Well, we'd better head for town. Johnny, you all set? Wait a minute, sir. Come on, Thornton, let's wait in the Jeep. Well, we'd better hurry back and raise that dry dock. It's going to be quite a load to haul up with a crane. How do you propose doing it, Captain? We don't. She's too big to budge with a crane. Let's go, Johnny. But, uh, if you can't haul her up, we'll float her up. But there are holes in the bottom of seven of the compartment. Well, lucky for us. No holes in the sides. But I still don't understand. Now, look, Thornton, imagine a tin can with a hole in one end of it. It's sitting on the bottom of a lake. If you put air under pressure in that can, it pushes the water out. And then what happens? Oh, I suppose the can rises to the surface. Exactly. It's just eight big tin cans. We run air hoses down and start pumping. As soon as she floats to the surface, we patch those holes in the bottom of each compartment and she'll stay on top. It's a pretty job, but take this wind picking up. Does that ever get worse than this? Occasionally, it's quite a bit worse in fact. Oh, that's great. Come on, you guys. I hadn't figured on wind to kick up waves. We're going to have enough trouble without that. All set, Captain. Good. Good. Let's go. I'm sorry. We've got to beat this wind. Air bubbles from number four lines. No. No, Jarnik's patched that lake. He just came up. Well, keep an eye on it. This wind has trouble written all over it. If our lines get fouled, we'll be right back where we started. On the bottom. You want it in the office. Right. Excuse me, Captain. Silly. How's your pressure reading? Blow on number seven lines. Number seven. Jarnik. Aye, sir. What about number four lines? I think the patch will hold, sir. Well, I hope the weather will. Look at that sky. Back home, we'd call this perfect tornado weather. Skipper. The waves are kicking out. Now, those lines have got to hold. Silly, how's your pressure? Well, we're still in business. I don't know for how long these lines could part any minute. But lash down the compressors. No matter what happens, keep on pumping. Captain Elberg. Yes, what is it, Morton? Just received an urgent message, sir, from Alexandria. Oh, what's up? It's the British fleet headquarters, sir. One of those four cruisers. Huge hole in the bow. They can't carry on without repairs. They want to know if they can come in here. Here? Masawa? How soon? They're only making one-third speed. They can live here in 48 hours. Want to know if we can undertake repairs as soon as they arrive. 48 hours. All right, sir. Ready of them to come in. We'll be ready for them. Aye, aye, sir. 48 hours. Skipper, you're fucking for America. Call it what you like, Joe. That's what we're gonna get. I know this heat's murder. I know we can't keep going. And this operation goes on a 24-hour round-the-clock schedule. And we carry on to that dock close to the surface. And after that, we keep going so she's sea-worthy. Now that means everybody. So tell that to your men and let's get to work. Fair pressure, steady. Johnny, get your repair crew set. We start to work on compartment number one. Take them in turn. Let's go. It's my life, but this job wins the prize. Well, here's your prize, early. Yeah, what is it? A salt tablet. Oh. Can you spare it? Yes, an outfit. Here's what is it, Morton? Here. Take a look through my binoculars. No, what's up? Look toward the mouth of the house, sir. Well, I still... Well, it's a skipper. Are we ready? Can we handle the job? Yes, we're ready, Morton. From here on, we can handle anything that can make it in. Masawa's back in business for good. It's from the day he landed at Masawa. He completed the impossible. He had established the vitally needed naval repair station. And from there on, naval history was made. One after another, crippled ships limped into Masawa and steamed out again full speed ahead. In time to launch the Great November Offensive in North Africa that turned the tide of World War II. Hello, Hamilton, speaking for the DuPont Company. We have learned to expect heroic deeds from the men who go down to the sea and ships, as in the story we just heard. Here's another such episode. Last July, a bad fire broke out on the dock in a West Coast oil refinery and rapidly spread to a tanker that was unloading. The captain realized that if his cargo exploded, it would play havoc, not only with his ship, but also with people working nearby on the shore. He called for volunteers to help him take the ship out into open water. And when the burning tanker was anchored offshore, all hands manned the fire hoses. The workers on the dock could see black smoke pouring out of the bow and greedy flames licking the edge of the boat deck where the brave men stood. It seemed impossible for anyone to remain there long, but the firefighters stood their ground and saved their ship. An important factor in saving the tanker was the material that covered the boat deck. This material, a cement composition containing neoprene, DuPont's man-made rubber, was put there to provide a non-skid surface and to protect the steel deck against corrosion. Fortunately, the material also proved to be flame-resistant. Neoprene, the first general-purpose synthetic rubber made in the United States, was manufactured in 1931 after years of research by DuPont scientists. Neoprene is particularly resistant to attack by petroleum products, oxygen, and sunlight. That's why it is used on oil tankers, in the oil fields and around refineries. On a burning tanker, it helped to save the lives of valiant men to say nothing of vessel and cargo. Neoprene is one of the DuPont Company's better things for a better living through chemistry. The Knight's DuPont Cabalcade was written by Robert Mason Pollock, based on material from the book Under the Red Sea Sun by rear Admiral Edward Ellsberg and published by Dobby Meathen Company. The music was composed by Arden Cornwell, conducted by Donald Borey. The program was directed by John Zoller. This is Cy Harris, reminding you to be with us next week when the DuPont Cabalcade will present Dangerous Mission, the story of a daring raider and a lucky spy. Our star will be McDonald's Kerry. The DuPont Cabalcade of America came to use from the Velasco Theater in New York City. And it's sponsored by the DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware, the better things for a better living through chemistry. The CD was transcribed. Stay tuned for comedy with Dean Martin and Jerry Norris on NBC.