 Proudly, we hail. New York City, where the American stage begins. Here is another program with a cast of outstanding players. Public service time has been made available by this station for your army and your air force to bring you this story, as proudly we hail the United States Army. The story is entitled, Road of Return. This is a story of the past revisited, a memory relived. Our first act curtain will rise in just a moment, but first, young men, when you volunteer for service in the United States Army, you can rest assured that your talents and natural skills will be considered in giving you an assignment to your liking. Today, if you're qualified, you can enlist directly for training as a specialist in Army aircraft maintenance. You'll be assigned to duty as a light plane mechanic, helicopter mechanic, or airframe repairman. Why not investigate an army enlistment and find out just what you stand to gain? Complete information is available at your nearest United States Army and United States Air Force Recruiting Station. And now, your army and your air force present the proudly we hail production, Road of Return. Once again, the sky was a deep, cloudless blue. Off to his left, he could catch the glimmering flashes of the sunlight which danced along the surface of the sleepy river run. A glance at the speedometer and his foot relaxed on the gas pedal. The road ahead was open and clear, but he was in no hurry. He wanted to see everything and miss nothing. It was his second trip along this road, the road that started at Marseille and stretched ever northward through the body of Eastern France, through Avignon, Valence, Dijon, Nancy, Metz, the Great Invasion Route, the road that had seen the armor in the uniform of Roman, Saracen, Goth, German, and American. It was a strange and alien road, but it seemed he knew every turn, every rise and fall, every marker, every sign, where it narrowed, where it widened. Certain things were missing, though. They had filled in the jagged holes that angry shells had torn on the surface, and no longer did burned out tanks and trucks stand grotesquely by the side, as they'd cleaned the place up since 44. He swept around a curve and he saw the children, perhaps 40 of them, boys and girls, the eldest perhaps 10, though he could be wrong, never tried to guess the age of a European child. There would be several generations stunted in growth, part of the war debt to be paid by victor and loser alike. The children crossing the road were headed up the field to the orphanage on the hill. He remembered the orphanage quite well. It was four miles north of a town called Surge. He stopped the car. Some of the children waved at him. He smiled and waved back. The nun who was shepherding them across the road stopped and looked at him. He nodded at her. Bonjour. Oh, you speak English, sister. It's Daddy B. Oh, I see the orphanage is still here. Oui. You have passed this way before? Yes, during the war. Ah, the war. Mm-hmm. My outfit came up this way. We have peace time now, Sergeant. You are still a soldier? Yes. I've been back to the United States over to Korea and to Germany. Germany? I have a leave now. I thought I'd ride this way again under different conditions. Much has changed, oui? Well, in some of the fields that aren't plowed, I can still see the shell holes. The children still find helmets, belts, pieces of metal. This is the orphanage of St. Terays, huh? Oui. Tell me, is Father Louie still alive? No. He died last year. He was a good man. Right behind us, little rise of ground here, sister. My mortar squad set up the gun, right here. No. No, to the left, I remember. I told Rebel and Sandy to dig over there, but the ground was solid rock. So we moved over 10 yards. Here's the place. You say Father Louie died last year. Oui, Sergeant. He was a quite old man. He should have been close to 100. You knew him? You knew the old curate? I knew him. I spoke to him only once, and for only five minutes, but I knew him very well. Savis, suitable talk for a Kledgeman. He's the real old guy. What's he doing out here? Can you tell me where one may find your commander? Talk simply. Oh, Father, there's a big war going on out here, and you can get hurt. You better take cover somewhere. Eh? Take cover? No kidding, Patrick. The gerry's are going to start lobbing shells back over here in a minute. Now, you better hide. And where does one hide, my son? When the soldiers fight in every field, in every house, where is one safe? Father, you can get killed out here. The Lord has seen me safely through 90 years. If he still needs me today, he will protect me. Well, where do you live, Father? On the other side of the hill. The orphanage of Sainteres. Well, you should have a cellar. Can't you stay there? Do we move on? No, my son, I cannot. I must walk to the village. But why? The children. They must have milk. Our two cows were killed by a shell. Oh, I'm sorry, Father. I did not say it was your shell. Perhaps it was theirs. It makes small difference. It is war, and we of this region know war quite well. But the children, what are they to do for milk? Perhaps someone in the village will sell me some milk. But, Patrick, the fields are all mine, and the roads getting mortified. You will reach the village. And how will the little ones live without milk? Father, perhaps? Wait. Hey, Sandy, is the wire still into the command post? Hand me the phone. House 7. House 7. Roger. Hey, listen. Have the cooks got any cans of powdered milk they can spare? I'll take our rain check till you get back home to mama. Now, meanwhile, suck it over to the jerry so you'll never get home. Look, there's an orphanage out here. Somebody's shells killed the cows. What are the kids going to do for milk? We're going to need some more 81s, fast. I'll get a cheap load out there in five minutes. And, hey, Ostrowski, listen, will you? Put some cans of milk in the jeep, huh? Father, how many kids you got in the orphanage? We have 30. Enough milk for 30 kids. Over now. Hey, we'll send the milk. Sergeant Ostrowski, the top kick's got five kids back home. You'll get the milk, Father. I'll bet on it. What is your name, my son? Frank Dunner. May the good Lord bless you. And what's your name, Father? I am Father Louis. Father, it's getting pretty hot here abouts. You go back over the slope of the hill. The jeep should show up any minute now. I guarantee they'll have the milk for you. Thank you, my son. How can I ever repay you? Well, just do me one favor, will you? Be careful going back to the orphanage, huh? I've often wondered, the kids ever got that milk. Oh, yes, Sergeant. They did. I was with the children in the orphanage, Sergeant. They had milk for all of the week. And you remember? Oh, yes, Sergeant. We all remember. The road winds north, route national number seven, and off past the fields in the distance, the sleepy little towns, the tall needle-like church steppes, and an American sergeant in his early 30s retraces a route he once followed in his early 20s. And as Frank Dunham sits behind the wheel of the hired sports roadster, barreling north toward Nossi and Metz, he can see in his mind's eye the tanks parked by the side of the road and the long double line of riflemen moving up slowly, awaiting the moment of contact with the enemy. And there's a sign by the side of the road that says, balance, 31 kilometers. It's probably the same sign. The sturdy road markers made of metal last three years. Off to the right is the narrow dirt road unmarked on the map, the road a little better than a pathway that leads to the sleepy hamlet of Belwa, which isn't on the map either. And now Sergeant Frank Dunham knows why he is making this journey back over the road of his past. It's not curiosity, not some unnamed desire to revisit the familiar scenes, but a certain sense of urgency, a certain force that compels him in the direction of an old cafe in the town of Belwa. I see no one ever got around to fixing this, huh? What is that, Sergeant? This little hole here in the side of the bar. That. It was during the war. Old Philip owned the establishment then. Some German soldiers came in here one day, one fired a shot into the wood. They wished to frighten him. Yeah, I know. You know. I should know. I should know it very well. You are listening to the proudly beheld production Road of Return. Our story will continue in just a moment after this important message. If you receive your sheepskin this year, here's an important message for you young fellows. You're in luck if you've studied math, physics, electricity, or metalwork. Because you can now enlist directly as an Army aviation mechanic. You'll work with blueprints, precision tools, electricity, sheet metal, and internal combustion engine. It's all for Army aircraft, too, you know. The Army uses planes and helicopters for observation and transportation. You'd taxi the aircraft for testing, and you'd go along with the pilot on check flights. Sound like a good job? Well, brother, it is. And now you can enlist directly as an Army aviation mechanic. Just go to your local US Army and US Air Force Recruiting Station for details. If you're qualified, you're in. You are listening to Proudly We Hail. Now we present the second act of Road of Return. Sergeant Frank Dunham journeys back over the road of his past. And events remembered become alive, become real, very real. Where are we, Frank? I guess we're lost. Man, we ain't lost. The outfits lost. We're in the right place. No, no, we're not. We went up too far. You know, Jerry's in back of us. Well, those aren't our guns you're listening to. We can't stay here, man. We'd be spotted. Oh! Rebel, you hit? Yeah, I think so, Frank. Yeah, let me see. That leg, it was kind of no. Don't be like more. We'll make it back. I'll give you a hand. Yeah, oh, you, oh, Frank, I can't stand up. I'll have to carry you. Don't only trouble that idea, Frank, is I weigh 220. You ain't an ounce more than 160, sopping wet. Well, don't worry. We'll make it. Hey, just tie that bandage there a little tighter, huh? Tight. That's good, yeah, that's fine. Come on, now. We can try to sneak back through the woods. Yeah, we could sneak if I could walk. Well, lean on me. Legs busted, Frank. Oh, not to move. I'm not going to leave you here. Look, I got a better idea. I can hide here and play possum. You get on back and sit, can't you round up some help? But I couldn't just leave you. That ain't be sensible. You can't take me. And you're sure you'll be OK till I get back? Oh, man, I'm living now. I got my canteen, my rations. It's nice and cool here. What else do I need? I'll head the other way. Pull off the direction from Rebel. Question is, while I wind up, more woods, now what? What's a couple of buildings? That one looks like a bar, a nice cool bar. Oh, well, no beer for me. Quit kidding myself. Start moving. But where? Jerry's are everywhere I turn. Frank, I think you have to bet on the long shot if you ever want to get help to the Rebel. Frank, be lucky. Balbois, for three years, I learned the English to say hello when the yanks arrive. Well, listen, I'm the only yank in the joint. And I'm lost. Lost? I'm trying to find my outfit. They must be on the other side of the street. That I know without you. How do I cross over? Where? An American, all alone. Philip, if the boss finds him here. He ain't silent, the woman. Look, a buddy of mine is hurt. He's waiting for help. Where? You know where the woods begin, near that field that's filled with rocks? Ah, very good. If he is not discovered by nightfall, Rene, Andre, and some of the boys will go to his cell. Good. But you, we must return you to the Americans first. The Bosch are thick as thieves in these parts. Philip, jumping soldiers and an officer, they come out of the woods. But we must hide this one. Hide him, wait. Be silent while I think. Perhaps they will not come in here. But they do. Then they come to the door. Philip, if they discover we had an American soldier, they will not come in. Look, look, buddy, no point in you getting into a jam. I'll make a run for it. He's too late. We must hide you. Where? There's only one room upstairs and no place. Philip, they're almost at the door. If we hide him, we may be shot. Did I not say be silent? You, American, come here. Just crouch down behind the bar. Come over here. But they're shooting. You can suggest something else. Honey, come around the bar. Crouch, crouch low. Can you see him, Murray? Philip, if they find him. Hang you, see him. Oops, I will shoot again. Tell me, you have seen an American soldier, Mr. Patron? An American soldier? No, not since 1917, when we sent the Bosch flying back to the Rhine. Ah, yeah. Another war, another victor. You, madame, you have seen an American soldier? I? Unfortunately, we cannot permit civilians to hide members of the enemy. We have a severe penalty. Have you seen a soldier? I have seen no one. Very well. It is not that I doubt the word of two such honest-looking people. Corporal, take some men up those stairs. See what is above. Nanu, is this a tractor? Heinz? Yeah, I like that. Take the rest down there. See what the seller has to offer in the way of Americans. Now, how is the beer today, landlord? I'll play there to sit at the bar once again. A beer for the officer? Not so good as always, but, uh, adequate. Thank you. Who is that? No one upstairs, huh? Heinz? And the seller? Hi, Mr. Hellerkant. I would have taken an oase he would be hiding here. Well, landlord, I'm lucky for you. I was mistaken. Come, follow me. Our guys came barreling through the place in a couple hours. We got the rebel back, OK? The couple hours could have been too late for me, but not a place to hide. So you are the American Philip spoke so much about. Is Philip still around? No. He sold me the establishment five years ago. Is he alive? Yes. Where is he now? Poor Philip. Poor Philip? Well, what's the matter? Well, his luck has been bad. Where can I find him? Anybody here? I'm looking for a man named Philip. I was told he lives here. Why do you want to see my uncle Philip? Why? I just want to say hello. Oh, an American soldier. What do you want with my uncle? I just want to say hello. The story. Aunt Marie told. It was true. I never believed it, but it must be true. You have come here to kill him. Kill who? Why? But please, Mr. American, Uncle Philip, he has suffered enough. He has been punished enough. Hey, hey, wait a minute. Is this the Philip who owned the saloon at the edge of town? Yes, my uncle Philip. Why has he been punished? For what? Where is he? I will not tell you. OK. You don't remember me. Who are you? What do you want? Sick. It's happened to you. It couldn't have been that old back in 44. Who are you? And what do you want? You don't remember? Why should you? Just one little incident in a lifetime. Bullet holes still in the bar. I always wanted to come back to thank you. It just wasn't until this year that I had the chance. You have come back? Yeah, sure. I have never forgotten you. You didn't know me. You owed me nothing. That time, you couldn't even be sure I was on the winning side. Still, you put your life on the line just for me. You think I could ever forget it? You have come back. You have come back. Uncle, the doctor says you must not become excited. Jeanine, this one, the sergeant. This is the American I was supposed to have betrayed. This one. Betrayed. You saved me. You remember the woman? She was in the cafe. I even remember her name, Marie. How is she? She's dead, pneumonia. But before she died, she killed me. Also, she killed you. He was Uncle Philip's cousin. Uncle Philip testified against her husband in a lawsuit before the war. He always hated Uncle Philip. But you say she killed you. A few days after you hid in my cafe, she sold everyone. Uncle Philip had betrayed an American soldier to the gym. But how could she do that? You saved me. It was her world against mine. And well, she spoke so loud, so often to so many people. But it was a lie. She couldn't prove it. No, she could not. But old friends stopped talking to me. People no longer came into my cafe. I held out as long as I could. But one day, I was forced to sell my place. How could a woman do a thing like that? Ah, poor Marie. She was not right. She was not sane. I forgive her. If I'd only known, I could have come back here. Yes, but I did not know who you were. I did not know your name. Well, can you get out of bed? The doctor says he must rest. Look, this man has been resting for 10 years. There are too many traitors in here. I think I shall leave. And I also. Where are you fellas going? You, an American soldier. You should be ashamed. Ashamed? I'm proud. This man is the best friend I could ever have had in the world. Look, I came back here to thank this man, a stranger who saved my life, who risked his own to help me escape. And I'm glad I came back. You are mistaken. This one caused the death of an American soldier. Well, how would you like this dead American soldier to buy everyone in this house a drink? But every one of you had better shake this man's hand and beg his pardon. What is he saying, too? It is a trick on the part of a leader. Wait, friends, wait. This American, he came in here earlier. None of us had ever seen him before. And yet, he knew about the bullet hole in the barn. That's right. You were all quick enough to condemn. I only hope now Philip will be as quick to forgive. What do you say, Philip? Sergeant, what can I say? Let me buy everyone a drink. Philip. Yes, Jack. Philip, is it enough to say we were all fools? Yes, my friend. This is the first time in years we have spoken to one another. Let us talk of pleasant things, huh? A toast to the American sergeant. The road winds northward from Marseille through the sleepy French countryside. And the American sergeant sits behind the wheel of the rented roadster. And every signpost, every hill, every twist and turn brings back a memory. And as the car speeds north from the little town of Berois, the mystery has ended for him. He knows now what the yearning has meant. He knows now why, for 10 years, something inside him said, travel the road again. It's time for a break. If you think the breaks haven't been coming your way, just listen to this. The Army's offering you a break if you're qualified for the job. You can now enlist directly in the Army as an aviation mechanic. I know that's good news for a lot of you young fellows but you'll begin to serve right then as an Army specialist. You might even earn a pilot or crew chief rating. Now, how's that for a break? And it's all because the Army's expanding its light plane and helicopter program. Now, if you're one of those smart young fellows who never pass up a break, here's your chance. Just go ask them down at your local U.S. Army and U.S. Air Force Recruiting Station. Enlist now as an aviation mechanic in your United States Army. This has been another program presented transcribed in cooperation with this station. Proudly, We Hail is produced by the Recruiting Publicity Center for the United States Army and United States Air Force Recruiting Service. This is Kenneth Banghart speaking and inviting you to tune in the same station next week for another interesting story on Proudly, We Hail.