 Family Theatre presents Joan Leslie and Wendell Corrie. In cooperation with Family Theatre Incorporated, presents Wendell Corrie and Guy de Maupassant's Mademoiselle Fifi with Edgar Berrier, Hans Conreed, and Parle Verre to introduce the drama, Your Hostess, Joan Leslie. Thank you, Jean. The permanent place in literature of Guy de Maupassant was earned by a wide variety of tales and a shrewd understanding of all kinds of people. Many of his most penetrating character studies have become classics because his dissection of human emotions is as real and revealing today as it was in the times in which he lived. One such tale is Mademoiselle Fifi. Perhaps you will find a strong parallel in a much more recent conflict and occupation. The tale takes place in a small town in northern France when Bismarck's armies were overrunning the French Empire. But let our narrator, Wendell Corrie, tell it. Here in this French village, I am called Pierre Boucher. But that was not always my name. It was only a few years ago that I was known as Peter Borgon, Sergeant Peter Borgon of the Prussian Army. Here, where I now live in peace and contentment, I once came armed with gun and bayonet to occupy and destroy. If that puzzles you, allow me please to explain. I was a very young man in the year that Bismarck ordered the Prussian armies into France. I lived on the borderline between the two countries. My family spoke both French and German. Some members even lived in France. But I made a different choice. I thought to fight for Bismarck, to fight in a victorious army. No life could be more glorious, more courageous. When I was, I said, a very young man. Then my regiment was assigned to occupy this French village. It was here that I encountered a new kind of courage. A courage very different from that of a soldier charging with a fixed bayonet. It was an encounter that changed my whole life. But let me tell it all, as it happened. We marched into town with Major von Faultsberg and his aide, Lieutenant von Eirek, at our head. Quarters were commandeered for the men and the handsome rich chateau in the village for the Major and his staff of officers. The Major wanted me near him, so I too was given a room in the chateau, much to the annoyance of Lieutenant von Eirek. An odd one he was, very handsome. A trifle too handsome, perhaps. Yet so short that he stuffed his boots with paper to make him appear an inch taller. And a bad temper he had too. The temper of an arrogant yonker. But that is impossible, Major. He cannot be allowed to stay here at the chateau. Why not, von Eirek? He's a common soldier from the ranks. He cannot live with officers. You have no contagious diseases, have you, sergeant? No, sir. You see, Lieutenant, there's no danger of your becoming infected. In any case, von Eirek, I believe I am command here and it suits my convenience to have Sergeant Borgen close at hand. I do not wish any further discussion on the matter. Is that clear? Yes, sir. Good. Now have the curfew notice and regulations printed. And Sergeant Borgen can see to their posting. So this seems to be a quiet little town. We should not have much trouble here. In a way, the Major was right. It was a quiet little town. And the people went about their business as usual. At least so it seemed on the surface, except for one thing, the church bells. As in most of these French towns, these bells had been its heart, bringing every day to announce a wedding, to mark some solemn memorial, or to call the villagers to a meeting. But after we moved in, the bells were silent. Father Chantevoir and the local priest refused to ring them. It was such a small thing, such an unimportant case of resistance that Major von Faulisburg chose to ignore it, but not Lieutenant von Eirek. To him, this refusal to ring the bells was insufferable disobedience. And when Major von Faulisburg had made his journey to headquarters one day, and Lieutenant was left in command, he decided to act. I was ordered to bring in Father Chantevoir. But is it you want to see the father about? I do not want to see him. It is Lieutenant. Oh, that one. Mademoiselle Fiefi. What is that? Mademoiselle Fiefi, we all call him that. It's the way he stumps his foot every time he loses his temper, like a spoiled infant when someone takes away his toy. Mademoiselle Fiefi, eh? Better not let the Lieutenant here any of you call him that. I do not think he'd be amused. I am sure not. And he is a cruel one, which is written all over his face. One of the soldiers to see you, Father. Yes. May I help you, Sergeant? Lieutenant von Erich would like to see you at the Chateau Father. Very well, Sergeant. Watch out for yourself, Father. That Lieutenant has the face of an angel and the soul of a devil. Why, then, I should certainly be able to handle him. Angels and devils are my line of work. Come along, Sergeant. When I showed Father Chantevoir into the Chateau, Lieutenant von Erich was busy at his favorite pastime, cleaning and polishing his pistol. He did not even look up at us. So you know why I sent for you, Father? Well, I am not certain, Lieutenant. Confession, perhaps? I mean no mood for your wit, priest. Come here, over to the window. Those bells, priest. The bells in your church tower. Yes. It was your custom here to ring them every day, was it not? That was some time ago, Lieutenant. They had a nice tone, those bells. Good. We would like to hear them. You have to start ringing them again. That will not be possible. Today? I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but the bells are broken. Have them repaired. Yes, of course. We are working on them. But the men left in the village, like myself, they are old. It will take some time. I will help you out with some of my men, Father, young men. If I may suggest something, Lieutenant, they are a very personal thing with our village, those bells. It would be better if you would let us work on them ourselves. My men will be there this afternoon. Show them what is wrong, and they will repair it. That is all. No, Lieutenant, that is not all. You see, I'm afraid the bells will only break again. What? Why are you friends so stupid? It does not seem to penetrate. We are the conquerors here. It is for us, us to decide what gets broken. Look around the room, Father. That statue of Joan of Arc is only a coat rack for German tunics now. Those paintings are only targets when we feel bored and desire to amuse ourselves with our pistols. And that bust of your Napoleon Bonaparte. Watch, Father. You see? Now it has no more head to think with. And now no mouth to talk back. All Bonaparte has left our ears, Father, ears to listen and to take orders. Whose orders, Lieutenant? Major von Falspiel. It is, Lieutenant. Good afternoon, Father Schöntervern. Something I can do for you? No, Major. I was just leaving. Oh, thank you, Lieutenant. Your demonstration of marksmanship was most interesting. I had no intention, sir, of exceeding my authority. I am sure of that, Lieutenant. It is only that I was trying to correct the situation of the barrels. No need to go on about it. I understand. But there is something else, sir. May I point out to you that you made me appear ridiculous in front of that priest? You give me too much credit, von Erich. What is that, sir? If you looked ridiculous, you accomplished the feat entirely by yourself. Sir, there. Oh, come, come, von Erich. Don't stand there like a statue. I have work to do. Well, you'll be kind enough to pass on my papers for transfer to another unit, Major. Preferably front line. Don't be a fool, Lieutenant. We will all be killed soon enough. Sir, I am making a formal request. And the sooner I am. I know, I know. And I am asking you to forget it. You are needed here. Yes, sir, as you wish, Major. A moment, von Erich. You believe I am too easy with the French, do you not? Well, sir, it's quite all right, Lieutenant. I know you do. But actually, our views are not as far apart as you think. If you will permit me, Major. No, wait. I feel the same way you do about these people. But I believe I understand them better. This matter of the bells, for instance. Now, we've had no trouble around here. But I tell you, on the issue of those bells, that priest and this whole village would resist to their death. I have no compunctions about shooting the lot of them. But only if it will accomplish something. You prefer allowing them to ignore our orders? On the bells, yes. Refusing to ring them, Lieutenant, enables them to keep their pride and obey on everything else. It saves a great deal of trouble, and it costs us absolutely nothing. Now, do you understand? I think so, sir. But it is still my belief that these people must be made to know who is master here. You and I know, von Erich. That is all that really matters. MUSIC But with the Lieutenant, that was not all that mattered. Although the occasion did not arise wherein Lieutenant von Erich could force Father Chantavan to ring the village bells, the priest knew as well as I that he was in danger, that the Lieutenant was only waiting an opportune moment to act. But he remained calm and polite and always gentle. It was a strange kind of courage, a different kind of courage, and it gave me something to think about. Then, suddenly, things began to move too quickly to allow much time for thinking. It started with the officers boredom up at the chateau. The usual boredom of occupation duty. The major and von Erich were in the drawing room, and I was polishing their boots. Why do we not enliven things with some feminine company at dinner table, Major? We could send the sergeant to bring a couple of dancers from the butterfly café. The butterfly is off limits, von Erich. Oh, yes, sir. But the chateau is, no? It is not likely any of these French girls would come up here willingly. I'm afraid it would only make trouble. I promise a full meal will bring them running. Possibly. No, you overestimate these people, Major. I will show you their patriotism cannot ignore the promise of a good meal. Well, besides, the sergeant will give them my word, the word of a Prussian officer. That's that they will not be molested. Well, how about it, sir? Come, I'm sure you would appreciate some ladies around the table as much as I. Very well, Lieutenant. I will not spoil your fun. Thank you, sir. You heard the major sergeant. Stop fiddling with those boots. Be on your way. I expect you back here in time for dinner with the two best-looking dancers at the café butterfly. Good evening, Major. Just finishing up the preparations for dinner. Wine and candlelight. Not bad, eh? You've done things up handsomely, von Erich. Including yourself, I notice. Decoration, sword, and all. I'm glad you approve, sir. You see, things are already gay around here. Yes, I confess now. I think you had a good idea, if the sergeant is successful. I will risk a month's pay, Major, that they would not dare refuse for fear of our displeasure. No, wait. That must be the sergeant now. It is, sir, with two ladies. Now, remember, von Erich, I want no trouble tonight. The sergeant gave the word of a Prussian officer. A Prussian officer, sir, is bound only by his word to another Prussian officer. Come in. Major von Falksberg, may I present Madame Iselle Blondina de Sal, and Mrs. Madame Iselle Rachel Meyer. Good evening, ladies. I'm very delighted you could come. May I present my aide, Lieutenant von Erich. Ladies. How do you do? How do you do? Take their coat, sergeant. We will dine in a few minutes. Yes, sir. And now, my dear Blondina and, uh, and... Rachel Meyer. And Rachel, shall we begin with a little champagne? Champagne? Oh, yes. Rachel and I have not had any champagne since the war started. It has been difficult to get lately for the French. Well, there's no shortage tonight. Ah, there we are. Gatharan, ladies. Now, we will relax, enjoy a good dinner, and with your help, ladies, forget about the war. The first court of champagne emptied quickly, and I served a second. And by the time dinner was over, a third. Not that the two dancers were drinking, the blonde one had a glass, but the dark one, Rachel, did not drink at all. She just quietly and hungrily ate her dinner and watched Lieutenant von Erich. Lieutenant ate almost nothing, only kept drinking. Yeah, sergeant, fill my glass. Fill hers, too. I believe he does not wish any more, Lieutenant. Fill it, I said. This town breeds them stubborn here, Rachel. It's hard to get you to drink, as it is to get your priest to ring the bells. But both shall be done. Yeah, let me help you quench your thirst. Stop it. I do not want it. My apologies, mademoiselle, for spilling the wine over your dress. Fill her glass again, sergeant. Yes, yes, fill her glass, sergeant. I'm sure she will drink with us. This time, for I have a toast to propose. Ladies, to our victories over parts. I would like to propose another toast, if I may. To our victories over France. How brave you are, Lieutenant, when you sit well guarded in the chateau. And your countrymen, my dear, I cannot remember their faces. It seems I saw only their backs when they ran from the battlefield. All right, Spongebob, that's quite enough. No, Major. Not quite enough. First, I have a toast to propose, too. You see, Lieutenant, you get your way. I shall have a glass of wine, after all. A glass to a free France. You hear that, Major? Every little French girl thinks she's Joan of Arc. Well, I drink to oppression, France. For that's the way it is, my Rachel. France now belongs to us. France, and every man in it. Yes, and every woman, too. Let go of me, let me go. So champagne into my face, will you? I'll teach you a lesson, you little. What are you doing? Let's look out the door. OK. Ah! Frozen for a moment, like people in a bad painting. Rachel staring at the table knife in her hand, which was stained with blood. Then suddenly, she dropped the knife and ran to the open window. She was out into the courtyard before any of us had recovered. Sergeant, after her! Oneirik. Oneirik. Is he? Is he? Yes. Yes, he is dead. No, no! No, you cannot go, mademoiselle. You must remain here until the sergeant returns with Rachel Meyer. Things helped Rachel Meyer to escape that night. One was the darkness of the courtyard. The other, my own confused feelings. During the course of that evening's dinner party, I'd come finally and completely to revile Von Erich and all the prussian nonsense he stood for. Somehow it caused me to delay for a moment and shouting for the guard. And the momentary delay enabled Rachel to get away. An instant later, I'd shaken off my confusion. I called out two squads of men and began a careful search of the town. It was morning by the time I returned to the chateau. The blonde girl was still there. The major was pacing up and down. He turned hopeful to me when I entered. Well, Sergeant? Not yet, sir. We'll have her very soon. Too bad about Lieutenant Von Erich, sir. Von Erich, a fool only got what he asked for. Sergeant, an idea has occurred to me. I want you to arrest the mayor and two councilmen. Any two. I leave it to your judgment. You want them brought here? Yes. And turn out a firing squad. Perhaps if I show headquarters, I took quick action. No, major. You cannot shoot them. Right away, Sergeant. Wait. Everyone will know what went on here last night. Who was to blame? And suppose I have you shot too. You will learn it anyway. Rachel is still free. They will learn that a french girl had to kill for the honor of her country. And they will know that you had innocent citizens shot to protect your own skin. You have not had much trouble in this village so far. But if you do this thing, you will never walk down one of our streets safely again. You will have to double your troops, triple them, and still there will be unrest. Still, you will not be safe. All right. You can go, mademoiselle. And never mind the mayor, Sergeant. Just bring me Father Shantavwan. In observance of Lieutenant Von Erich's death father, I am ordering you to ring the church bells. Have I made myself clear? You speak very distinctly, Major. And you will obey? I will give your wishes. My order? My sincerest consideration. Be careful, priest. I have been very lenient with you up till now. I am warning you. If the bells are not rung immediately, I will send my own men to ring them, and I shall consider the whole town to be an open rebellion. You yourself then, Father, will be responsible for any action I may be forced to take. You may go. Good day, Major. Stubborn fellow, that priest. Well, Sergeant, now we can straighten this town out very quickly, and what is more, the records will show it all to be quite legal. I don't understand, Major. But here, let me read this order to you. Notice to all townspeople, your refusal to ring the village bells in honor of a Prussian officer's death is considered an insult to the entire Prussian army. As a direct result, we are forced to execute four of your leading officials. It is hoped that this will end any similar attempts at futile and stupid resistance to the Prussian high command. Interesting strategy, isn't it, Sergeant? When Father Shantavon fails to ring the bells, arrest him and the mayor and the councilman. Are you not overlooking something, Major? Suppose Father Shantavon should ring the bells. That is the beauty of it, Sergeant. He will not. He cannot. If you had studied his type, as I have, you would know that he would go to his death before. Sergeant, is that? Yes, Major. It's the church bells on all. It was not until much later after the war was over, in fact, and I had returned to the village to live as one of the French. It was not until then that I learned why Father Shantavon yielded that night and rang the bells. But the reason was simple, though Major von Falsberg could never have foreseen it. Father Shantavon had to keep our men from coming up to the belfry. He had someone hidden up there, someone who had fought to defend the honor of France. Father. Yes, Rachel? If the Prussians should find out it is you who have hidden me, given me shelter. But it is not I, Rachel. God has sheltered you. No, Father. What will happen to me? You will be all right. As soon as the search quiets down, we will smuggle you out of town. No, Father. I mean, about my killing that lieutenant. Father, I did not mean to. I know. Believe me, I know, Rachel. But there is also something more in your defense, Rachel. Something these Prussians must someday learn. All that take the sword shall perish with the sword. Ironically enough, in the end, Lieutenant Von Erich had his most fervent desire. Father Shantavon rang the bells. And in a way, it was the lieutenant who forced him to do it. We of the family theater have enjoyed bringing you Guy de Maupersant's story of Mademoiselle Fifi. It's the kind of story everyone likes to hear again and again, for it gives us reassurances, all of us, that the power of the sword can never crush the power of the spirit. The times we live in have been called overmaterialistic, meaning, I suppose, that we place too much long range value on the things of this world, spend too much time in pursuit of things that will perish. Well, perhaps we have become nearsighted in the matter of our own souls, our own destiny. But it's a thought that should lead us to sober reflection, even some realistic soul searching and some praying. Prayer has been the support of all people who have had to resist the forces of injustice. Prayer is the rock on which the sword of might can be shattered. Prayer now, for us and for our families, can avert the day when our land and our homes may no oppression. By prayer, we can come into actual contact with God and gain unbelievable poise from realizing the presence of His power. That is why we remind you now, as we do each week, that the family that prays together stays together. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams on. From Hollywood Family Theater, as brought to Wendell Corey as Sergeant Borgen in Mademoiselle Fee Fee, with Joan Leslie as your hostess. Hans Conreed was heard as Lieutenant von Eirich, Edgar Berrier as Major von Falsberg, and Polly Bear as Father Schantt-of-One. Others in our cast were Mary Ship and Virginia Gray. This adaptation of Guy de Mopassant's classic was written by Andrew Michaels, with music composed and conducted by Harry Zimmerman, was directed for family theater by Jaime Del Valle. This series of broadcasts is made possible by the thousands of you who have felt the need for this type of program. By the mutual network which has responded to this need, and by the hundreds of stars of stage, screen, and radio who have so unselfishly given of their time and talent to appear on our family theater stage. This is Gene Baker inviting you to join us next week when we bring you a stalling of the old and new in California with Leo Carrillo and Sheriff Eugene Viscolleau. Join us, won't you? To the facilities of the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation and his broadcast to our troops overseas by the Armed Forces Radio Service. This is the world's largest network, the Mutual Broadcasting System.