 The Johnson-Wax program, Words at War with Clifton Fadiman. The makers of Johnson's Wax for home and industry, in cooperation with the Council on Books and Wartime, proudly present one of the most widely discussed radio programs in America. Words at War, bringing you dramatizations of the most representative books to come out of this great world conflict. And here with us, finch-hitting once again for Carl Van Doran is one of America's keenest judges of good books, Clifton Fadiman. Good evening. By any stretch of the imagination, could the events that occurred on a certain evening, in a certain nightclub, in a certain bulk and capital, have anything to do with you? Offhand, I think you'd say, certainly not. But I'll be back in a moment to show you these events did concern you, after Jack Costello brings you a brief message from the makers of Johnson's Wax. You know, folks, there are very few people who always do everything just when they should. Most of us, myself included, are putter offers. We very often put off until tomorrow the thing we might have done today. That's why we all need to be reminded occasionally to clean and polish our automobiles. Even if your car is idle a good deal of the time, it's still good business to keep the finish clean, because dirt and road grime can actually damage the paint job if they're not removed. The easy way to remove them, of course, is with Johnson's Carnew, the double-purpose polish that both cleans and polishes in one application. Carnew is inexpensive. In fact, I can't think of any reason why that car of yours couldn't be cleaned and polished this very week with Johnson's Carnew, spelled C-A-R-N-U. All right, Mr. Faderman? Our book tonight is rapidly climbing into the bestseller class and deservedly so. It is Headquarters Budapest by Robert Parker. For several years before the war, chief associated press correspondent in the Balkans. In this book, Parker takes us behind the scenes in the Balkan countries, introduces us to kings and princes, dictators and regents, high-living aristocrats, starving peasants, all adding up to a vivid and frightening picture. See if you don't agree, as we bring you now Robert Parker's provocative story of the Balkans, Headquarters Budapest. You want the story of the Balkans? Well, I could boil it down to these three sentences. The First World War started in the Balkans. The Second World War started in the Balkans. The Third World War will start in the Balkans. I mean it. But let's get the story from the beginning. It's a story of rottenness, deceit and corruption. Of people divided against themselves and distrustful of their neighbors. A story of hypocrisy, horrible oppression of the many by the few. It's a tragic story out of a land that has supplied the setting for many a comic opera. But you couldn't give the plot of this one away as a gift. They'd say it was too absurd. But wait, one man liked the Balkan story. He liked the plot. The Balkans, that is where I will start in the Balkans. But, my Fuhrer, there are great dangers. There are treaties. Treaties? They mean nothing in the Balkans. What happened when I took my stand out to get to Slovakia? Did not Romania, Hungary, Poland, Poland seem like wolves? Yes, my Fuhrer. Each one waits for the opportunity to cut the throat of the other. I will cut the throat of all. Yes, my Fuhrer. Yes, Adolf Hitler thought the Balkan story might even be worth a production. Look at the cast of principles. The Hungarian Regent, Admiral Nikolaus Horthy. Admiral, it is my desire that Germany and Hungary be friends. I hope we will be, Herr Hitler. We have much in common. Without doubt. It is my feeling that the Hungarian people have a definite obligation to the Third Reich. And as soon as the Hungarian people realize that's the better for them. What are you saying? Germany will take no nonsense from Hungary. Hungary will do as Germany says. I am the Fuhrer. I am the voice of Germany. You will remember that, Admiral Horthy. What? Internal nonsense. What's your words? Corporal. Corporal? I remind you that I am Regent of a nation which has been years. I am an unshouted act by an upstart corporal. River Parton. Agnes is better. Sit down now, corporal. We will talk, sensibly. You'd take the Admiral for a grand old man, wouldn't you? Not to be bluffed by a dictator, huh? Well, listen to a Hungarian newspaper editor. No, Mr. Parker. No, Mr. Parker. Admiral Horthy has no objections to dictators as such. No. He objected to Hitler only because he considered him an upstart. And Hungarian aristocrats do not like upstarts. They do not like them any more than they like the 3 million landless and starving Hungarian peasants. Thank you, sir. I tell you, Admiral Horthy of Hungary, all people like him will help to start World War III in the Balkans. All right, who's next? Well, now don't burst out laughing before the actor gets started. Isn't it costume? No. This is King Boris of Bulgaria. And if he looks funny, it's because he's so hard up for ready cash that he has to wear the hand-me-down sent to him by his father-in-law, Victor Emmanuel of Italy. Meet his royal highness, King Boris. I am always glad to meet an American, Mr. Parker. America has always been our friend. Your Majesty, what will Bulgaria do when war comes? Oh, do you think there will be war? Don't you, Your Majesty? Oh, no. Well, I mean, I mean, I can't believe there will be a real war. England and France are much too smart to get mixed up with Germany. They will help Hitler against Communist Russia. You don't fear Hitler then? No. Hitler has no designs against Bulgaria. Do you think? I left the palace with a feeling that Boris was a nice little guy, but a sort of Balkan Casper milk toast in second-hand clothes. I wondered what the peasants thought of him, because six million of Bulgaria's six and a half million population are peasants trying to live on an income of 60, yes, 60 dollars a year. Oh, but you cannot blame King Boris, Mr. Parker. You, a Bulgarian peasant, you like him? King Boris? Yes. Oh, it is true he is not about to be a ruler of a country, but he would be an excellent, well, say, an excellent village postmaster. Thank you very much, not at all. Yes, an amiable incompetent like Boris of Bulgaria will help to start World War III in the Balkans. There was Prince Paul of Yugoslavia, regent for the boy King Peter, tall, dark and handsome. Yes, Prince Paul looked more like an English clubman than a Balkan nobleman. He had a wonderfully simple solution for everything. Oh, yes, and he could also play the piano. Mr. Parker, there is one way for you with Slavio to keep out of war. We must be friendly with everybody. I see. But your Excellency, what about your internal problems? You have eight million Serbs, more than four million Croatians, a million and a half Slovenes, all at each other's throats. How are you going to bring them together? I will settle that problem. How, Your Excellency? I will find a way. When, Your Excellency? When I have time. That is my plan, Mr. Parker, to settle my country's internal problems when I have time. When I have done that, I will retire to the country. I will retire to the country, Mr. Parker, and play the piano. You see, somebody like Prince Paul, who will never find the time to solve his country's problems, will do his part to start World War III in the Balkans. Forty of Hungary, proud aristocrat, contemptuous of the common people, Boris of Bulgaria, willing perhaps for terribly weak Prince Paul of Yugoslavia, who thought everything would work out all right in time. These were three of the Balkans' rulers, when Adolf Hitler decided to give them a demonstration in the spring of 1939, and whom did Herr Hitler select as his first target, the most absurd character of the lot, King Carol of Romania, this sequence of the opera starts in Berlin. My mind is made up with strike in the east. When I give the verb, we invade Poland. But, main furor, this means war with Britain and French. I will smash Britain and France. It is my fjord to wage such a war, you need oil for the army bread for our people. I will get the oil, I will get the bread. But where, main furor? There, there, to Romania. Main furor, King Carol has refused to sign our trade agreement. You will sign, I have a plan. A plan, main furor? A plan. Get Schmidt, I will send him to Hungary. Get Volta, I will send him to Romania. King Carol will do what is told. Schmidt to Hungary, Volta to Romania, yeah, main furor, yeah. Yeah, yeah, this is Schmidt. Hello, Volta. Hello Schmidt, how are you? Fine, fine, tell me Schmidt. Is everything proceeding according? According. Good. Tell me Volta, have you seen him? Yeah, yeah. How does he look out? He does not like it. But, I don't like it. I don't like it. I don't like it. I don't like it. I don't like it. I don't like it. I don't like it. He does not like it. But do not worry. If things are proceeding according. You mean Hungary? Do not worry, Volta. At this end, it is all taken care of. That is all I wish to know Schmidt. I see him again in the morning. Good bye Schmidt. Carol is in his designing room, Dr. Volta. He will see you there. King Carol rarely allows anything to interfere with his designing of army uniforms. Through this door. Thank you. Your Majesty, Dr. Volta is here. Give me some beer, Johann. Yes, your Majesty. Dr. Volta, I have considered the proposal you bring from Berlin. It is ridiculous. Germany asks 90% of our oil and wheat. That would eliminate our trade with other countries. Does Hitler take me for a fool? Who is Hitler? I am as big a man as he is. Bigger. But your Majesty. Go back to Berlin, Dr. Volta. Tell them Carol says more beer. Yes, your Majesty. Tell them Carol says no. Your Majesty, if I may say a word. Where are my red pencils, Johann? Where are my red pencils? On the left side, your Majesty. Just one question, Your Majesty. What do you make of the agitation in Hungary? Agitation? Not agitation. There is great talk, Your Majesty. Hungary is talking of ceasing Transylvania from Romania. They wouldn't dare. Probably not, Your Majesty. Yet these are troubled times. Times when every country can use a strong friend. Like Germany, I support. Well, yeah. Romania does not fear Hungary. It is all bluff. Your Majesty, an urgent message. It may be just bluff, yes. Hello. Forgive me, Your Majesty. But this is of the greatest importance. Hungarian troops are marching toward the border. You are sure? There is no doubt of it, Your Majesty. They will be there in six hours. Very well. No, bad news, I trust, Your Majesty. You know what the news is. Hungary is sending troops to our border. No. Yes. Oh, I'm sorry, Your Majesty. How unfortunate that we were not able to come to an agreement. They would not do this if Romania and Germany had just signed an important trade treaty. Well, good day, Your Majesty. Dr. Woltat. Yes, Your Majesty. How long will you give me to decide? How long? How long will it take the troops? Six hours. This is Clifton Faderman speaking. Tonight on the Johnson's Wax program, Words at War, we're bringing you a dramatization based on Robert Parker's story of the Balkans, headquarters Budapest. Parker has told us that just as World War I and World War II started in the Balkans, so will World War III. To prove his point, he's already introduced us to four of the kind of rulers who are easy prey for the Hitler's. At the moment, one of these rulers, Carol of Romania, is letting the last six hours of a German ultimatum take away while he designs new uniforms for the army. Now, Robert Parker continues with his story. As King Carol's precious hours take away, where do we go for the next act of this little drama? Back to the Royal Palace? To a press conference at the Foreign Office with journalists in striped pants and monocles? No. No, we go to a little joint up over a butcher shop in Bucharest. It's called the Kit Kat Club. The piano is playing an American tune that has found great favor over here. Appropriately enough, it is entitled, Don't Wake Me Up, Let Me Dream. As usual, the Kit Kat Club is crowded. On the surface, it looks like any other nightclub, not the hot bed of intrigue that it actually is. The bearded little man over there against the wall is a member of British intelligence. That dark eyed doll in the ermine coat over the bar is a French agent. The bartender works for some foreign government probably two or three. What shall I order for you, Monsieur Parker? A Scotch, George. Monsieur, on your way. That bent little guy over near the door, see him? He's one of Romania's wealthiest oilmen, a great friend of King Carol's ever-loving Elena Lupescu. There's a gal for you. She's organized Romania into one big and ugly racket. She's shaken down the country for about a half a billion dollars. She takes a cut on all army and navy contracts. She sells public offices. She runs the Romanian Black Boost, the most fabulous illegal money market. As you know, he has a few hours to kill. He is killing them in the kit-cat. Here you are, Robert. My Romanian assistant in the Associated Press Bureau. Hello, Alex. Sit down. Any news? I learned that King Carol is locked up in his private chambers. Refuses to admit anyone. He's designing uniforms. What? With only a few hours left before the Germans' ultimatum expires? He's designing uniforms? It looks like Hitler wins, eh, Alex? I'm afraid so. It will reduce Romania to complete dependency upon Germany. Yes. Of course. We will be paid for the oil and for the wheat, grown by our peasants who have never tasted bread. We'll be paid in typewriters, adding machines, cameras and harmonicas. Madame Lupescu could use an adding machine to total up her graft. And maybe there will be some nice colored pencils so Carol can design more uniform. And don't forget harmonicas. Oh, yes. Harmonic paint. What's this? Alex, look. One of Voltot's men just came in. He has a message. See? He slipped him a nose. Maybe it, Alex. This may be Carol's answer. Watch his face, Alex. We can tell what the answer is. Well, there's your answer. Voltot orders champagne for everybody. Carol has given in. Yes, and that's just the beginning, Alex. Hitler would do this in all the other Balkan countries. Yes, it is just the beginning. Gentlemen, we present the Kit Kat Club review. And first on the program is that sensational young Romanian virtuoso, Grigore. What are you going to play for us? I would like to play the popular American song Don't Wake Me Up, Let Me Dream. Very well. Ladies and gentlemen, Grigore and his harmonica. A kingdom for a carload of harmonicas. Sounds silly, doesn't it? But it's true. Absolutely true. Well, his Romanian coup accomplished. Hitler was now ready to go after Poland. So let's visit Warsaw on the eve of war in 1939. Warsaw, the seat of a government that pretended to be a democracy, but whose leaders actually operated as tight and dirty a dictatorship as ever existed on the face of the earth. They worked every trick used by dictators since the beginning of time. Concentration camps, anti-Semitism, ballot box stuffing, and the gross mistreatment of minorities. And they alienated Russia, the only big power, big enough to save Poland from Germany. Mr. Parker, his excellency will see you now. Oh, thank you. Come along, we've a date with Foreign Minister Joseph Beck. That's Beck at the other end. He looks like an American ham actor made up of lean and hungry caches. He's thin and pinch-faced. He won't look you in the eye. He lives lavishly, drinks too much, and is a steady patron of the Warsaw nightclubs. You have some questions, Mr. Parker? Yes. The press and radio are demanding that you give up the Polish corridor and dance it as well. What do you propose to do about it? We will not give them up. Even if they threaten more? We are not afraid of Germany, Mr. Parker. Poland is a great power. We have the finest army in the world. Germany will not dare to move against us. They're not talking that way. Talk is cheap. Hitler is bluffing. Confidentially, I can tell you that Germanist tanks are made of imitation metal. Did you know that? Imitation metal. I've never heard that. You would not hear such things. But you can be sure of this. Hitler knows perfectly well that the great Polish army would be in Berlin within two months if he started anything with us. Thank you, Mr. Beck. Not at all. Nothing. We have the finest army in the world. I'll remember this way, Mr. Parker. Thank you. Beck actually believed that about the Polish army. So did Smigly Ridge, the Inspector General of the army. Such men as Beck and Smigly Ridge who actually should have known better will help start World War III in the Balkans. We'll dine at the Chateau de Sabanski. Watch out for the champagne. Those drunken officers like to throw them against the wall when they're empty. Let's sit down here and talk to a Polish friend of mine. Hello, Jan. Welcome, Robert. Sit down. Sit down. Rather noisy crowding. As usual, they are everywhere. The food is good here. It's worth putting up with the noise of the officers. Well, Jan, I heard today that those men belong to the greatest army on earth. Yes, that is what their leaders tell them. Jan, how can Beck and the others be so blind? They are blind in a thousand ways. Yes, for instance. They think they can grind down the people indefinitely. Yes, most of the people are very poor. Poor? Robert, in Poland there are peasants so poor they spit a match into five parts. They starve along on $48 a year. The minorities must be even worse off. Much worse off. The Ukrainians in the southeast cannot call their lives their own. The police have them terrified. In the cities, three and a half million Jews are living in ghettos. Only one Jew and three is allowed to work. At least a million are under verge of starvation. Oh, that was a little close, wasn't it? Hasn't anybody ever tried to solve the problem? Oh, certainly. Once your friend, Mr. Joseph Beck made a suggestion to the League of Nations. What was it? He suggested that the problem could be solved. He said that the problem could be solved by merely throwing three and a half million Jews out of Poland. Gentlemen! Gentlemen, it goes to the Polish Army the greatest army in the world! Maybe the stupid dictatorial leaders of Poland did have the greatest army in the world. Maybe they turned back the Germans at the border that day in September of 1939 or maybe I just believe what I read in the newspapers of the horrible tragedy that overtook the people of Poland when Hitler gave the signal that started the planes flying and the tanks rolling the tanks that Joseph Beck firmly believed were made of imitation metal. Let's cut the comedy. I suppose they do in comic operas. Our peasants should rush to the stage now of the finale in their colorful costumes singing and laughing and cheering the principles. Sorry. Our peasants don't feel up to it. They know that something's wrong. They can't put it into words. But I can tell you what the peasants would like to say. It boils down to something like this. You can't push these people around indefinitely. If you do, World War III, as I told you at the beginning, will start where the first and second World War started in the Balkans. Paste that in your hat and look at it every once in a while. The third World War, more terrible than ever, will surely start in the Balkans unless we give the people of the Balkans a break. Give them a chance at education. Give them a chance to get enough to eat, enough to keep warm in wintertime. The third World War will start in the Balkans unless the United States, Great Britain, and Russia agree on a common policy for Eastern Europe and stop playing power politics. It will start in the Balkans unless we refuse to deal with the old discarded regimes, people like Haughty, Beck, Karen, and the rest who have been exploiting their peoples just a little too much and a little too long. Unless we throw such comic opera leaders into the ash can. One word can describe what the people of the Balkans need and want. As an American, my word for it is democracy. Free unless we do something drastic about it. I'll tell you about next week's program after a message from our sponsors. Friends, the thrift which our forefathers had to practice is well expressed in this bit of verse. Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without. Sounds just like it was written for these times, doesn't it? It may seem prosaic, but being a thrifty housekeeper today really helps to win the war. So go right on taking extra good care toaster, refrigerator, vacuum cleaner. And go right on protecting your linoleum floor surfaces with Johnson's self-polishing glow coat. Notice that I say protecting because that's the main reason for using glow coat on your floors. Linoleum actually lasts six to ten times longer when it's protected regularly with glow coat. Of course, you save hours of work in the bargain because glow coat needs no rubbing or buffing. We have the satisfaction of working in a cheerful kitchen because glow coat keeps the linoleum looking like new, sparkling, clean colors bright. Mr. Faderman. Next week on Words at War, the book is The Nazis Go Underground by Kurt Reiss. A startling expose the Nazis carefully laid plans for winning the peace. Now this is Clifton Faderman inviting you to be with us again next week and until then, goodbye. I'm Gerald Holland and featured the production was under the direction of Anton M. Leder. Next week, the makers of Johnson's Wax bring you a dramatization of the Nazis Go Underground by Kurt Reiss on Words at War. Jack Costello speaking. This is the National Broadcasting Company.