 The Cavalcade of America, sponsored by DuPont, maker of better things for better living through chemistry, presents Soldiers of the Soil, a radio adaptation of a new motion picture produced in Hollywood for DuPont, and starring Russell Hayden, Carol Nye, and the original Hollywood cast. This Thanksgiving season, the American farmer can well be proud of his 1943 record, a year in which he produced the greatest crops in the history of our country. DuPont is grateful that many of its better things for better living contributed to that production record. The food administration has set the production goal for 1944 at 383 million acres, 16 million more than last year, and chemistry will continue to stand shoulder to shoulder with the farmer in helping him to make these acres more productive. Chemical treatment of seeds will aid in controlling plant diseases. Insecticides and sprays will prevent loss from insect pests and still other products of chemical research will help increase livestock poultry and egg production. These are some of the ways in which chemistry will help the farmer to reach his 1944 production goals. Tonight with Russell Hayden and Carol Nye and the original motion picture cast of Soldiers of the Soil, Cavalcade salutes the American farmer and his part in wartime production by bringing you a play of wartime courage of a different sort, a warm human tale of two brothers. It is the story of John Landis, an American, who did not realize that his farm was a battlefield until he saw it through the eyes of his brother in uniform. Our play adapted for radio by Stuart Hawkins from the new DuPont motion picture Soldiers of the Soil stars Russell Hayden as John Landis and Carol Nye as his brother David on the Cavalcade of America. The Landis farm in Jefferson County is like the thousands of other farms that spread across this land of ours. Here, too, are the sounds of war of tractors, machines and men taking food from the earth for a nation locked in struggle. Seated on his tractor, John Landis is mowing his fields, a man in overalls working on his farm. Did you pull that last roll of beets like you might ask you to? Yes, Pa. OK, son, go ahead. Yippee, gee, thanks. Joey. Yes? Whose car is that to stop by the house a few minutes ago? OK. Go ahead and have your swim. Mind your back by mokentime. Yeah. Why didn't he let his noise come in? Where is he, Mother? Not quite so fast, John. Grace is bringing him out to the garden. He's here. They come now. Hi, Davey. What's the idea? Over this way, David. David. Hi, Johnny. Davey. This is great, Davey. Having you back again? Sure is good to be back, Johnny. They wrote you'd been hurt, but we didn't know that you were. You can say it, Johnny. Blind. David. It's all right, Mother. I'll get used to it after a while. I'll get along all right. Sure. Sure, you old Davey. The important thing is you're back. That's why I didn't write. I knew it'd be easier for all of you if you didn't know until you saw me. Tell me, John, how's the farm doing? Had a good year, Dave. A real good year. Milk and 40 cows, you know. 40 cows? Well, that's twice as many as you had last year, isn't it? We've been expanding all around, David. You'll hardly know the place. Well, how much corn did you put in, John? 45 acres? 20 more than last year. What have you been doing, buying more land? No. Where'd you get the extra acreage then? Drained it, Davey. Drained it? The old swamp, the foot of the woodlot? Uh-huh. Dammed up the brook and laid out irrigation ditches in three fields. Well, you see it. I mean, I, well, say, Mother, where's Dad? Why isn't he here to welcome Davey back? He went into town about two o'clock. He wanted to see Dick about something. Well, let's get ahold of him right away. I've been telling him to bring Dick out for dinner tonight. This calls for a celebration. A real family get together. Now that Davey's back? Yes. Yes, of course. Come on, Davey. Let's go inside where we can sit down and you can tell me what it is like out there in Guadalcanal. I, gosh, I just can't tell you how good it is to have you back, Davey. Another piece of pie, John. No thanks, Mother. How about you, Dick? Well, two's my limit. Well, pass David's plate. I know he'll have some more. I wish I had room for it, Mother, but I'm full right up to here. You know I've dreamt about a family meal like this for almost a year. And this is better than any of my dreams. Your mother's cooking hasn't changed since you laughed, huh, son? Still the best in the world. Guess you got pretty well acquainted with emergency rations out there, didn't you, Dave? I'll say. Now all right, too, Dick, when you haven't got anything else. A lot better than we had in the last war, I'll bet. I can still remember how we did it. Dick, do you have to bring up 1918 again? We're going through one war. Why drag up another? Sorry, John, I was thinking how much better they do things today. Uncle David? Yes, Joey? Do you remember Booji? That funny little puppy, yours? Sure. Won't she eat a pup anymore? She just had puppies of her own, six of them. Well, what do you know? If you'll come out in the barn, I'll show them to you. I mean, uh, uh. Joey, you mustn't bother your uncle. I'm sorry, David, but he'll wear you out if you give him half a chance. No matter the fact, I'd like to go out and get re-equated with Booji. Well, come on then. Here, take hold of my hand. OK, Joey. You suppose Booji'll remember me? Oh, sure she will. And the puppies are awful cute. Where do you see them? I mean, well, they feel awful cute too, Uncle David. I'll bet they do. John, dear, we must tell Joey to be more careful what he says. I wouldn't worry about it, Grace. David, understand? Sure he does. I've got a hand at it, David. It's taken this mighty well. Well, how else do you expect him to take a dick? You don't have to snap at me every time I open my mouth, John. Well, uh, you men go into the other room while Grace and I clean up. Yes. Yes, go ahead. I'll be right back. Wait a minute. I've got something I want to say to you all. I'm enlisting in the Marines. John. You're a plot? I'm going to enlist. I can't stay here doing nothing, not after what they did to David. But you can't go. We need you here, son. My mind's made up. I've got to go. Well, you'll have to get someone to help you with the farm, Dad. I can't find anyone to take your place, John. Good hands are mighty scarce now. Besides, you are this farm. You're what makes it go. Yes, John. Your father's not strong enough to run it alone. You know he isn't. I tell you, I can't stay here any longer. Now, wait a minute, John. I know how you feel, but your draft board knows where you can be most useful. That's right, son. Everybody can't fight. Your place is here. Not for me, it isn't. All my life, I've been the one who had to stay here. This time I'm going. Nothing, anything, whatever you can say is going to stop me. Now, don't fly off the handle. Be reasonable about it. Reasonable. You can talk, Dick. You're old enough for the last war. You've given your business to work in a war plant. You're doing your part. You can feel good about it. But how do you think I feel? John. Every time I go into town, I see people looking at me. Old man Jackson, who's three sons in the Navy. And Mrs. Elridge with her. Oh, but John, these people have nothing against you. Oh, I know how Mrs. Elridge thinks about me. John, everybody knows that Mrs. Elridge's son, Tom, was reported missing after that air raid. But she doesn't hold it against anybody? Yes, but the way she looks at me, even Lil' Joey, my own son, he tried to hide it. But he's ashamed of me. Oh, John, dear, he isn't. Yes, he is, Grace. You saw him fingering David's uniform and looking at his medals? Well, of course he did, darling. But Joey's not the same. Anyhow, the big reason is David. This afternoon, the minute I saw him, I knew I had to go. Every time I looked at David for the rest of my life, I'd hate myself for taking the easiest way out, staying on here when I ought to be out there where he was. So I'm going. But John. Going out to the barn, a couple of things I didn't quite finish doing before dinner. I'm sure it feels mighty bad. What's happened to David? Grace, you better go after him. Yes, I can't think. Maybe I had. John? Oh, John. Yes, Grace? John, I just thought maybe I could help you. I'll manage all right, Grace. I, uh, well, I wanted to be sure you could get a way to go to church for the rest of us tomorrow. Church? Yes, they've asked David to speak about the war and all. I don't see how I can go, Grace. Now, John, it's not because you're. Of course not, Grace. You know how I feel about Dave, but, oh, Grace, you understand, don't you? Well, I'm trying roughly hard to, anyhow. I'm sorry I sort of sprung it on you so quick just now. I should have told you first, I guess, but I just wouldn't stay inside of me any longer. I know. You were the only one who didn't say anything, Grace. Well, it wasn't much to say, John. No woman wants to see her husband go, but I, well, I wouldn't want you to stay if you don't think it's right. Well, thanks, Grace. But, John, you will try to come to church tomorrow. We're all going over together with the Jacksons and the Eldritches. Oh, now, John, please don't feel that way. I just can't help it, Grace. Every time I see Mrs. Eldridge, I think how they've lost their young Tom. The trouble she's having on the farm just seems like I couldn't even look her in the face. But she doesn't feel that way, John. Maybe. Anyway, that's how I feel. No, Grace, I'm not going to church tomorrow. There is a congregation. There is someone here today. I'm going to ask to speak in my place. Most of us have known David Landis all his life, as his friends and neighbors. We remember our pride in him when he became one of our most distinguished young professors at the State University. We remember our pride when he was among the first to go to war. Now that he's back, we know the sacrifices made. We are proud and grateful to be able to claim him as one of our own. David, we welcome you home. It'll be a great honor to me if you'll come up and take my place this morning. Let me help you, David. Yes, David. Let me help you. All right. Step right up here in front. There we are. Yesterday when I was asked to speak to you, I wondered what I could say. You, the farmers of America, have been asked to produce more than ever before, short-handed as you are. Is the job you are doing as important as a job in a war plant or in uniform? My brother John has been asking himself the same question. Last evening he told us he'd made up his mind. He wants to put on this uniform that I must now take off. He wants to fight with a gun in his hands. I know, as John knows, it is hard to be a farmer. No medals, no glory. Only long, hard days of toil, getting up by lantern light in the bitter cold of winter darkness, mending fences in the shivering rains of early spring, hanging under the beating heat of summer suns. Nobody tell you it's a battle? Nobody put your name in headlines? John found out something about that in the last war. It was 1917. John had a calf all his own that father had given him to raise. John was the proudest boy in the county. He cared for that calf all through the summer, loved it. Then one day a man came in a big truck. The man and dad went to talk to John. John, this is the man who's come to buy our calves. Buy our calves? You know, we've got more calves than we can raise now and the army needs them for meat. That's what we're doing here on the farm to help win the war, raising things the soldiers need. Does he want to buy a billy, too? Yes, Johnny, he wants to buy your calf, too. Do I have to sell it, Dad? I don't suppose you have to, son. The army needs food, needs it mighty bad. Men can't win battles on an empty stomach, Johnny. I... You see, food's just as important as guns and shells in the war, Johnny. What do you say? All right, I'll let him have my calf. I don't mind if it'll help win the war. Honest, I don't. While listening to the Cavalcade of America, sponsored by Dupont, maker of better things for better living through chemistry, presenting Russell Hayden and Carol Nye in Soldiers of the Soil. Our play is the story of two brothers, David Landis, who went to war and John Landis, who stayed at home to run the farm. Now, David, blinded by the war, has returned home, and John feels that he must take his brother's place in uniform. The family and the neighbors, the Eldritches, have gathered in church to hear David's story of the war. John, self-conscious and sensitive because he thinks his neighbors and friends are critical of him for not being in the service, did not want to come to church. Now, as our play continues, we find that John, because of his love for his brother, has slipped quietly into the back of the church. He listens as David is speaking. Yes, I know that all of you farmers are troubled with grave doubts. You wonder if you should shoulder a gun. It takes a strong brave man to stand his ground in the front line of this other battle, this battle of the soil. It took a good man to stand his ground when the dust rolled year after year in clouds that billowed like a tropic storm, pile like drifting snow along the fence posts and across the fields, or when the sky was bright and empty day after day, week after week, and the green spring crops turned brown, withering and dying for a little rain. I remember those days, too, and how the farmers would look out across their fields, full of dying in their eyes. Sam. Yes, Mother. Maybe we ought to give up the farm. Look at those fields, scorched and burned. They won't even be worth harvesting. Yes, maybe we should sell the place. I know how hard it's been for you, Sam. I've hated to see what it's done to you. Oh, the worst has been for you and the boys. I've thought about the boys a lot, too, Sam. I'd hate to do it, though, Ellen. I'm a farmer. My feet have always been in the furrow. That's where they belong. Hello, Dad, Mother. Did I bust in on something? No, no, we were just talking. Must have been something pretty serious, the way you both look. We were talking about leaving the farm. Leaving the farm? There's another crop gone this year, John, unless we get rain in the next few days. It's been awfully hard for you and David. We know that. Is it us you're thinking about, Dad? Is that what you're thinking of leaving the farm? I don't want to see you boys go through what I've gone through. But no matter what you've gone through, you'd never leave this farm on your own account, would you, Dad? Well, I wouldn't want to, but if I thought it was best, I'd... We'll be all right. You and Mother have had this farm too long to leave it now, for anybody. Oh, John. We'll just work a little harder next year, that's all. This land is good land, and it's ours. And I know you... you want to fight to keep it good and keep it ours, and that's what we're going to do. No medals, no glory, but men who save the land save lives. And for every farm where the crops grow again, because there was a man with courage to weather out the storm, today there is a company of other fighting men in the front halfway around the world. It's not always easy to stand aside so that others may pass by, but when I thought of John, I remembered that had always been his way, like the time when we were both in high school. Say, Dave, heard Mother and Dad talking about sending us to college. College? Gee, I've dreamed about that, John, but ever since I was a kid, I've never dared to ask him, but... Yeah, I know. The thing is, the farm. Yes, one of us would have to stay behind and help Dad. That's right. I just wanted you to know how I stand on it, Dave, so we could both tell him the same thing. Sure, but you know, John, as far as college is concerned, I'm not really as anxious about it as I sound. I'm a loader than you, and I could be more... Sure, I know. Now, listen, you're the one who's always wanted to go to college. You're the one who liked to study, and you're the one who's going to college, see? No, John, I couldn't. Listen, Dave, I'm a farmer. That's what I'm cut out to be, and that's what I want to be. You go to college, Dave. I'll stay here on the farm. That was John. That had always been his way. But sometimes it takes a long time to find out what a man is really like, even when he's your own brother. Sometimes you think so much about yourself and what you're doing that you haven't time to see. But it's when I got my degree in, came home from college that I began to realize how much John was doing. He was showing me around the farm. Yeah, there've been some changes, all right. This is Nushed, isn't it, John? You said you went away. Take a look inside. Gosh, is all that machinery ours? Uh-huh. Binder, hayloader, corn planter, tractor. We're building up quite a collection. Can you run all these things, John? Sure, run them, take them apart, and put them back together again. What's all this stuff in these bags? Oh, that's a new kind of fertilizer we got, a chemical. What's nitrogen back in the soil? You should see the difference in the crops we get now. I guess it's not only the farm that's changed since I went away, is it, John? Oh, farm has changed a lot, too, lately. I've never seen anything like that before anywhere. Well, that's a seed-treater. We disinfect the seed with a chemical before planting. It helps prevent any seed decay. John, where'd you learn all this? Oh, county agent. Of course, it's from the State Agriculture College. You know, all these years, I thought I was the one getting the education. I wish I knew half as much as you know now. That's when I-why I knew when the war came, I was the one who should go because John was more valuable to the war right here at home than I ever could be, wherever I was. He still is. I know that a lot of you here at home have had the same doubts in your minds that John has had. I know a lot of you would like to put on a uniform and fight, but believe me, the fighting that you're doing here is the hardest kind a man can do. Without you, there could be no victory anywhere. You are fighting the battle of food. Each one of you is a soldier of the soil. David? Yes? I'm Mrs. Eldridge, David. I'd like to say something if I may, and I'd like to say it to your brother John. John? Yes, he's here. He came in church while you were speaking. I just want to say that I know John has thought that since we lost our Tom, maybe we didn't appreciate what the men back here on the farms were doing. But we do, John. Why, we're as proud of you as we could be of our own son. We want you to stay with us, John, and do what you've been doing, because we know it's the finest thing that anyone could do. Anywhere. David? First I didn't want to come to church. Now I'm glad I did, because now I know you're right. David, I'm going to stay on the farm. I know I'll be doing my part here. What was it you said we farmers are? Soldiers of the soil. That's what I want to be. A soldier of the soil. Our thanks to Russell Hayden and Carol Nye and to the others in our cast for this tribute to the magnificent achievement of America's farmers. Mr. Hayden will return to the microphone in just a moment. Tonight's program, Soldiers of the Soil, was adapted from the new motion picture produced in Hollywood for DuPont. If you live in a rural area, your county agricultural agent and your vocational teacher in your local high school can arrange for group showings. If you're a town or city dweller, ask the secretary of any local organization to which you belong to write to the radio section DuPont Company, Wilmington 98 Delaware, for information on securing the film, Soldiers of the Soil. This week the nation observes its tradition of Thanksgiving Day. And here is Gane Whitman to remind us of the things for which America has reason to be thankful. Looking backward at our Thanksgiving Day of 1942, gloomy with foreboding, we have much indeed for which to give thanks this year. We thank the Almighty that in our just cause we have found our national unity and a will to win. Have found leaders and men, weapons and tools with which to drive our enemies into retreat. We are thankful that we can look ahead this year confidently to victory. Thankful for the soldiers and sailors, the fliers, marines, coast guardsmen who make our confidence a tower of stone rather than a rope of sand. We are thankful, even those of us who have lost beloved sons and husbands and friends, that the loss of life on the fighting fronts has been no greater. We are thankful that we of the home front have settled down grimly to support our men in the field. We are thankful that American industry, management and labor have proved ready and able in this great time of crisis. We are thankful for our soldiers of production. We are thankful that American farmers working under almost insuperable difficulties lacking labor and machines have managed nevertheless to feed us and our valiant allies. We are thankful for the abundance the farmers have given the United Nations this year. May we, as our President urges in his Thanksgiving proclamation, resolve to share and play square with food. Yes, we must resolve to share and play square with the food which is produced by our soldiers of the soil. We are thankful for the American ingenuity that has enabled us to face terrible problems and solve them. For the American optimism that has enabled us to face severe hardships with a smile. For the American doggedness that has enabled us to absorb early reverses and use them as a spur to our resourcefulness and resiliency as Americans working together. Last of all, we are thankful for the nation's past. For the past was the creation of our fathers who have bequeathed us much that we revere and hallow. But we are still more thankful for the future because democracy has successfully met its great challenge and the future is ours. With a sureer step now we stride on towards a better, juster world. We of the new world we who meet in friendship and goodwill this is our giving of thanks in the year of our lord 1943. Here's a timely tip to motorists from Dupont. Don't let a sudden freeze catch your motor without winter protection. Have your dealer or service station clean the radiator, check hose connections, cylinder bolts, water pump, heater, fan and belt. Then add the proper amount of antifreeze. And finally, if you'd like to know more about the proper care of your car for both winter and summer send for the new Dupont cooling system booklet. For your free copy just mail a postcard to the Dupont Company radio section Wilmington 98, Delaware. And now here is Russell Hayden star of this evening's Cavalcade and of the new Dupont motion picture Soldiers of the Soil. Thank you very much. It's been an inspiration to pay tribute to all the farmers in America in this evening's program. To all those soldiers of the Soil who by the sweat of their brown, the labor of their hands are providing food without which victory would be impossible. We hope you like this evening's play that you will have an opportunity to see the picture soon. Thank you. Next week the Cavalcade of America will bring you two of Hollywood's top favorites, Lloyd Nolan and Warner Baxter in The Wise Mad General. Our play tells of one of the most dramatic moments in American history when eleven regiments of American soldiers angry, resentful came to a fork in the road. Would they go over to the enemy or would the people on the home front give them the clothes and food and ammunition they must have to go on fighting for freedom. Dupont invites you to be its guest again next Monday evening when Cavalcade brings you two great motion picture stars Warner Baxter and Lloyd Nolan in The Wise Mad General. A gripping, exciting story of a war which America almost lost. The music on tonight's program was composed and conducted by Robert Armistor. This is James Bannon sending best wishes from Cavalcade sponsor the Dupont Company of Wilmington, Delaware. Thank you from Hollywood. This is the National Broadcasting Company.