 Words at War. The national broadcasting company in cooperation with the Council on Books and War Time presents another in this significant program series, Words at War, dramatizations of the most representative books to come out of this great world conflict. Tonight it's The Guys on the Ground by Captain Alfred Friendly. This is a tremendously heartening book, a grand tribute to the men of the Air Force who rarely, if ever, leave Terraferma, whose job in a word is to furnish and fix. Sounds rather humdrum, doesn't it? But wait. The story begins in one of our larger cities. The time is not so long ago. Three young fighter pilots are back on leave after long periods of combat duty and they've been attending a war bond rally. But now as they return to their hotel suite, they've but one thought in mind. They want to relax. It feels right. I'm pooped. Me for a shower. Will somebody get room service because I'm thirsty? Put down that phone book, Collins, and call room service. Call the cutie later. Get room service, will you? Well, mental telepathy. Room service. Come in. Why, uh, sure. Come right in, heady. Susie. Uh, that's Captain Pennybacker. Susie, ignore him. May I introduce myself? I'm... Major Richard Collins? Well, that's right, but how'd you... Hey, you guys, where's that room... Oh. Oh. And you're Major Russell, aren't you? She knows our name, Susie does. Anybody here expecting someone's or something? I'm no legal beagle. Just a newspaper reporter. Oh, I see. Is that so? I covered the bond rally and, well, I thought I'd come up here and sort of get an exclusive story. You mean about all the thrilling battles we were in, huh? And, uh, how it feels to shoot down an enemy plane. Like, kind of, this is the stuff of what American heroes are made and so forth? Well, something to clip out and send to the folks back home. What do you say? What do you say, boys? What do you say? Let's sit down, Susie. Thank you. Well, here I am. Pencil, notebook. Shoot. Well, you want a good story? I mean a good story. Sure. Dick, tell her about the coffin coffin. You mean the plane down at the bond rally? That's right. That's her name, the coffin coffin. You know, like Quinny Cough. She flew 50 missions before being sent on this bond tour routine. Go on, Dick. Sounds all right. Well, uh, I flew her over 20 missions myself before I was transferred. And after that, she went on to 50 missions. But before that... Martin, B-26, 117, 858. Well, what's wrong with her, Collins? I can't say, sir. Then why do you want another ship? Well, all I know is she doesn't handle right. The engines don't function properly and the controls are awkward. Nothing you can put your finger on, sir, but she's been that way ever since I got her a week ago. I understand a number of crews have had the same experience with her and have managed to... well, to get rid of her. I mean transferred, sir. Well, funny business. The mechanics can't find a thing wrong with her. Where's she now? Outside on the airstrip, sir. I think I'll try it myself just to see... Well, I wouldn't do that, and not if I were the CO, sir. So you think she's jinxed? I certainly do, sir. Then she can be de-jinxed. Let's go. Well, but, sir, I... I said, come along, major. Yes, sir. This particular ship is still to fly her first mission, I understand. She's due to fly it today. Under your command, sir? I sincerely hope not, sir. I'd prefer some other ship, any other ship. But if the mechanics can't find anything wrong with her, the trouble must be imaginary. Which I propose to prove this morning. Yes, sir. There she is. Looks like any other B-26 to me. What's wrong, major? I believe you're actually pale. Well, I... I know you'll think I'm foolish or something, but... I'd appreciate it more than you realize if you'd reconsider your intention of flying that ship. Let me remind you, major, that superstition cannot be given the status of legitimate factor in warfare. It isn't superstition, sir. It's... It's just a jinx, eh? Come on. Here we are. Let's climb in. Well, I'll be... Hey, look at her nose. Look at her nose, sir. Her nose? Well, what about... Well, seems as though 1-1-7-8-5-8's got herself a name. The coffin, coffin. The coffin, coffin. Under a desk head. Artistic little job. That does it. Does what, major? That does it. Yes, sir. The coffin, coffin. Well, I'll fly her now, sir. Why? Well, you see, having a name like that, well... It de-jinxes her. I see. Do I? You mean that when a ship requires a name that's funny in a gruesome sort of way, she changes from a jinxed ship into a lucky one? Yes, sir. Something like that. And then all's well, and I can go back to my work, major? Yes, sir. Thank you. I'll go now. Oh, sir. Well, major, what are you? I'm in charge of servicing this ship, sir. Can I do anything for you, sir? Wait a minute. You were listening into my conversation with the CEO. Me? Oh, no, sir. Hey, how long have you been in charge of this other coffin, coffin? Well, since the first day we got her, sir, major, there ain't a thing wrong with her. I know she's been getting a brush off of more of you combat guys, but I've been over her a hundred times, and she's a sweetheart. You think she's okay, then, huh? You bet, sir. Oh, by the way, when I brought her down last night on her instrument test, she didn't have a name. Now, you wouldn't happen to know who gave her that name, would you? And who might have painted it on her nose last night? Oh, no, sir. No. I couldn't say, uh... But if you ask me, it ain't a bad name at all. Speaking plain outside. Don't you think it's pretty good? I think it's terrific. Yeah, ain't it? What's your name? Joe. I mean, uh... Okay, Joe. Okay, then what? Well, after I got switched to another theater, Joe and I kept in touch. She kept flying all those missions, and Joe and his crew put more hunks of aluminum into her shot-up hide and they could count. They changed her engines and fittings so often that all was left of the original coffin was her name. But... And here's the payoff. Not one man in any of her various crews was even slightly wounded. Well, on her fiftieth and final... Hey, Joe, listen. Somebody's coming in. Trying to, you mean? Better get the crash truck and the meat wagon, too. Hello. Crash landing coming up. Check the crash truck and meat wagon. Right. Hey, look. It's the coffin. Yeah. One motor's out. Look at that belly full of flak. It's all torn off. The wing's all chewed up, too. Look at that right landing wheel. Son of a gun. The strut shot off. Didn't they bail out? Here she comes. I don't want to see it. Open your eyes, Joe. They made it. They made it? Yeah. Come on. Let's go. Scratch on anybody. Everybody alive but the coffin. The coffin's ready for the scrapheat this time. Fifty missions. Count them. No, sir. They ain't burying the coffin. Nobody. We'll put it together again. She's got more lives than a barrel of pussycat. We'll put it together again. And she'll fly. And that's just what happened, Susie. Joe and his guys put her together again. That's why she's making this bond to her. Yeah. The coffin's still enjoying the best of health. That's a good story, but... But what? Well, how about something that's got more bang-bang to it? You mean shooting down enemy planes and all that. Sure, that's the stuff. Come on, boys. Don't be modest. After all, you're heroes. Have a smoke. Thanks. Well, uh, I'll tell you one. Tell her about the odds and ends. She was a two-in-one. A ship that was made out of the front end of a smash bomber and the back end of another one. The guys on the ground took those two parts and put them together like a surgeon would put a hand on a wrist. With all the nerves and muscles and blood vessels hooked up perfectly. Yeah, I heard about that, but I saw this one. Lots of action, eh? You said it. Go ahead. I'm taking it all down. This was when I was in India. I was in temporary charge of the squadron, ten liberators. One day I had to send four of them into the service center. They were in bad trouble. What's the dope on those four liberators, Sergeant? It's the generator cannon floods. Busted, cracked wide open. No can fix. How long will it take to install new ones? There ain't any in stock. But we can't keep four bombers out of action until we get some from the states. Our force is small enough as it is. It's a serious. Can't you put them together again somehow? With what? The only stuff that's any good for generator plugs is something that can be machined that won't break or crack that can stand terrific heat and that won't conduct electricity. Wonderful. We can't get along with four bombers less. Find time for me to be put in charge of this out there. Think of something, will you, Joe? Oh, sure, sure. Okay. I'll be back. Hey, Joe, come on over here, will you? Yeah? We've got to invent something. Again? Cannon plugs. Oh. Four ships out of ten grounded indefinitely on account of some lousy plugs we ain't got. Dust off your brains, kid. We've got to think of something. It's no good. Anybody knows you can't grab rubber on to composition stuff. I know it's... I hate to get tough about this, Joe, but unless we get those four bombers back in the air, we're gonna lose most of the other six. The odds are big enough the way we've been working with ten. Yes. We looked everywhere, but there ain't a thing around that's right for generator plugs. Folks, I can't send bombers into action unable to fire their guns, can I? You're asking me to work a miracle, Captain, and I don't know how. Well, we'll keep at it. Okay. I'll be back. Come on, Joe. What? You forgot to eat dinner. Oh, nuts. No eat, no can work now. Come on. What a war generator plugs. What do they think I am anyway? Expect me to pull miracles. Look at that road. Think by this time they'd get horses to pull their go-karts instead of them clumsy buffaloes. Look at them Claude Hoppin animals. Such intelligent faces. Their horns look plenty sharp, don't they? Horns. I wonder. Horns. I got it. Huh? Come on, Joe. We're buying buffalo horns. Nope. Can't break them. What's next? Come in the furnace and see what happens. Yeah. Okay. In the furnace. And now what? The next thing, sir, we check this other pair for electrical conductivity like this. Now I give them the juice. Go on. 2200 volts. Look at that meter, sir. Register zero. Good. Now if they'll only stand the heat. Look at them in there. Red hot already. Lift them out with the pinches and drop them in the dirt. Right. Hand me the sledge, sir. Yeah. Stand back. Look. Yeah. Not even a splinter. You did it, guys. Yeah. Slap them on the lathe, size them and shape them, drill holes in them for the points, and buffalo horns get the big cannon plugs. You did it. Yeah. That buffalo is wonderful. This is Words at War, presenting tonight a graphic answer to those people who say that we Americans have lost our old pioneer skills. The three generations of the machine have weaned us from our handicraft ability. This dramatization of the guys on the ground by Captain Alfred Friendly proves beyond doubt that to the old Frontierman's cunning, modern Americans have added the skill to work on their problems with machines, that by using machines, we creatively have become the conquerors of raw nature. Now back to Major Russell, Captain Penny Packer, and Major Collins. How about a drink? That certainly is a swell angle. I mean, the ground crews. Yeah, you don't hear much about them, but... But they don't make good copy. I mean, the way you fellows do. The fighter pilots have captured the imagination of the people. Oh, no, wait a minute. Don't get the idea that service command stays on the ground all the time. Hey, Russell, what about the one you were in with that kid? What's his name? Joe Coldwater. Joe Coldwater. He was killed by a bomb about a month ago. But he and I did a little job together. Something extra special. Would you mind? It was to fly a plane out of a spot where it was repaired following a crash in England. The idea is to save valuable time getting it back to action. I remember that jeep. You boys Russell and Coldwater? Yes, sir. I'm glad to see you. If you ask me, shut up. I'm Captain Squires. You had your lunch? Yes, sir, but we done there lost it in the jeep. Oh, don't worry about the field. The engineers are laying out a runway for you. Well, let's take a look. Well, now, you say you're sure you've had your lunch? Yeah, stew. Now, about that runway... How about some cold beer? No, we don't want it. Did you say cold beer? Where? Just around this little bend. Come on. You know, to be perfectly honest about it, we're not too enthusiastic about that runway. It's very soft and we've had to chop through a hill. Well, what the heck if we have to haul her away by tractor? We will. You guys are supposed to be good at these trick takeoffs, but I don't want you to be too good. Yeah, that's what Mike Gail told me. Um, in here. They got an icebox. Oh, the civilians here are wonderful. We get two cases a day from the village pub. Goodwill gesture. Then how long? About, uh, 22 cases. Oh, I see. Here you are. And here's looking at you. Luck. Oh, that was all right. Eh, nice and cold. Now, here's the layout. The engineers have just about cleared 3,100 feet. Not too good, but not so bad either. Depending on the ground. We've been pounding it trying to harden it up. Halfway down the runway, we made a cut in the hill to keep the path level. Wait, did you say path? That's right. Got any idea of the wing clearance? Six feet on either side. Oh, that's ducky. Of course, we could go to work and slap down some more of that hill. No, that wouldn't help much, I'm afraid. Doing it without a steam shovel will take too much time. Anyway, the wing clearance doesn't bother me too much. It don't? I'm thinking about the ground. Feels like second cousin to a swamp in spots. 3,100 feet is okay if she'll keep from sinking into the mush. It's a case of threading a needle at 80 miles an hour. Any way you look at it. Yeah, with a needle propelled by 4,800 horsepower. Hmm. Well, let's take a look anyway. Well, Joe, what do you say? You want to try it? Why ask me? You're the guy at the controls. I only sit with you. I depend on you. You're the only guy that knows this shit. You want to look that strip over again? Ah, what for? Okay, I'll send for the tractor. We'll haul her to town, put her on a flat car and call it the best we could do. Personally, I don't blame you one bit. Wait a minute, wait a minute. She stripped of all the necessary weight. You're going to do it? Not on my own, Joe. I need you. Oh. Oh, I see what you mean. Well, uh, say Captain Squires. Yes. How about us barring a couple of bottles of beer? We're going to be awful thirsty up there. Sure thing. Okay, Joe. Easy, baby. What's her name again? Stella. Come on, Stella. Give. Come to that big bad hill. Show it your skirts, baby. Thank you, Stella. Now, say goodbye to everybody. Come on now. She's sinking in. Give her the gun. Come on, like a sweetheart. We're in the air. Stella, honey, I love you. I think I'm beginning to get the point. I'm up here on a story about fighter pilots. What I'm getting from you, fellas, is the story behind you. The story below us, you mean? Yeah, the kid's doing all that dirty and tedious work that keeps us in the air. They're the same kids who used to keep their flippers in one piece with haywire, chewing gum and rubber bands. Say, that's a swell angle. Uh, how much of all this we've been telling you are they going to put in the paper? Well, that depends. Collins, remember that one down in India that you were telling us about, you and that liberator? Yeah, that's right. Listen to this one, Susie, if you're looking for something sensational. Go on, Dick. I haven't been the pilot. I flew a B-24, supporting the British campaign in Burma. Well, coming back to the British fighter airdrome, we caught help from the Japs. They came back through the clouds with one engine out. And breaking through the overcast, we found ourselves over a Jap airfield. Well, they opened up with everything they had. They'd caught us for fair. We stumbled on a few miles and landed on the British field. It was too close to the front lines and we didn't have any big ship to stay and we couldn't move without extensive repairs so we put in a call for assistance. It flowed back to a China-Burma-India command center in Bengal, France. Technical Sergeant Duke reporting, sir. Oh, yes, one of our B-24s is shot down near a Jap airfield over at ACAB. We want that plane. Yes, sir. It's a rushed job under combat conditions. Yes, sir. Take five mechanics, a replacement engine and the necessary tools and load them into a transport. We'll be in the air in less than two hours. Thank you, sir. How's it coming on the fuselage, O'Too? Uh... Two-thirds of our lines and cables are out. Take another five hours at least. It'll take that long to put our wings together. You can use some more light. Move over another searchlight here, will you, somebody? Yeah. So I can see what I'm doing. The Jap's too. We gotta be out of here by dawn. Thus, the ship, everything. Before the Jap's get a chance to look over the easy pickings. Hey. What's that? It's a Jap plane. Hey, cover everybody! I knew it. Is that you, Duke? Oh, Major Collins. Looks like we slid into the same base. No good for baseball, but perfect out here. They want that liberator. So do we. Sounds like he's going back to get more bombs. Yeah, and more playmates. Maybe they'll wait until dawn for a potchart. They're wasting their time. Okay, you guys. Back to the plane and speed it up, will ya? Hey! They got Marlene Dietrich over at the base this afternoon. We don't want to miss her. It was an enormous job. Five men out there in the night doing a job that under normal conditions would take at least a week. And they had only a few hours to dawn. The Jap's came over timing again at least three more times. Well, the guys would scramble for cover until the Jap's went away and what got them sore wasn't the bombs as much as the wasted time. Duke had them hopped up about Marlene Dietrich. The crew worked to a point of well, I guess you'd call it physical collapse. Come on with that engine, will ya, old tool? We ain't got all day. Think of Dietrich, old tool. Luscious, gorgeous. I should kill myself just to see her. What's she ever do for me? Funny guy, ain't ya? Yeah. My girl says I'm full of jokes. You know what? What? Give me that other wrench. When she says I'm full of jokes, I never know, does she mean it? Or is she... What's your opinion, Sarge? I mean, from the heart. Ah, go on back to work. What for? Because if you don't, we'll all get our pants knocked off. What's so funny? Old tool! No, sir, you don't have to use that tone of voice to me because old tool is not cracking under the strain. Old tool is finished with a motor. So tell the major we can tune her up now. That a boy. Major! And so, yesterday was the faintest streak of gray in the black skies. I took over the controls of the ship barely 48 hours after she had limped in. Practically wrecked. Yeah, thanks to six guys who worked straight through without a let-up. The ship had a new engine, airworthy wings, and pool-proof controls. A new lease on her fighting life. Yeah, she sounded like the swingiest jazz band in the world. Duke came over to say goodbye. Good luck, Major! Thanks! I'll never forget you guys! Major! Go! I gave her all she could take and got off the spot after I'd gone about 200 yards. The Japs bomb hit the exact spot where my ship had been a moment before. But Duke's guys had the satisfaction of seeing British fighters knock down two of the raiders from their slit trenches. Hey, Duke. You were kidding about Dietrich being over to the base today, weren't you? Yeah. Yeah. That's what I like about this war. It's full of jokes. On the Japs. Can I get you something, Susie? Please. Thanks. Well, did you get that one all down on paper? I want to thank you boys for a marvelous story. It's, well, it's really a new slant. The guy's on the ground. All they get is their jobs, no medals, no ribbons, no publicity. Yeah. And when they read about this hero and that hero and all the planes he shot down, they darn well know that the ground guys made all those victories possible. I've got the story. And thanks a million. Now all I need to lead, you know, first sentence. Got any ideas? Um... How about this? If a motto ever truly belonged to any group of men, it was on the ground. The difficult, we do immediately. The impossible takes a bit longer. Unquote. Tonight on Words at War, we've brought you Guys on the Ground by Captain Alfred Friendly. The radio dramatization was by Peter Martin. The cast included Frank Lovejoy, Lawson Zerby, James Monks, Bill Quinn, Larry Haynes, Louis Van Routen, Martha Faulkner, Michael Fitz Morris, and Owen Jordan. The music was arranged and played by William Meadier. And the production was under the direction of Herbert Rice. Next week, Words at War will present the radio dramatization of You, Your Children by Marie Serkin. This series of programs is brought to you in cooperation with the Council on Books and Wartime, by the National Broadcasting Company and the Independent Radio Stations and NBC Network.