 Worrying about those bills piling up, dreaming about that coming vacation, want to get away from it all? We offer you escape. You are deep in the remote hill country of Afghan, face to face with a fierce faith and warriors, trapped into a hopeless fight from which there seems no escape. Escape, designed to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high adventure. Tonight, we escape to the north of India and to a battle long remembered, as Rudyard Kipling described it in his famous story, The Drums of the Four and Aft. When I came out from England to serve as a news correspondent with the British troops on the North Indian border, regiment number 329A was called the Four and Fit, Princess Heron Solarine's own Royal Light Infantry. Four and Fit, but now behind their backs men call them the Four and Aft. You know when certain words are shouted in front of other barracks, the troops may come out with belts and fists, but the mere whisper of Four and Aft brings out the men of this regiment with rifles in their hands and murder in their eyes. I think perhaps the story of how the Four and Aft got its name may be really more the story of Jacob and Peggy Liu, two of the toughest and most lovable little monsters who ever banged a drum or tutored a fife in a military band. They were both about the same age, with curly hair and the faces of cherubs, and inside were two souls that should have belonged to a pair of devils. I must have seen them before, of course, but the first occasion I can recall was an informal regimental court the colonel was holding in the orderly room one morning. Peggy and Jacob were there, and they were in trouble, as usual. All right, Sergeant, read the charges. Yes, sir. The charge is made by one smith as a civilian that while walking back at the bazaar at 6 p.m. last evening, he was set upon without propagation by two drummers from the corps band known as Jacob and Peggy Liu, and by them was beaten into near insensibility. Fighting again. Go on, Sergeant. Mr. Smiller states further that he was struck down by the two defendants and while lying on the ground was kicked repeatedly in the face and ribs, escaping with his life only through the timely arrival of a detachment of the guard. That's all, sir. Well, what about it, Jacob and Peggy? Is this the truth? Oh, yes, sir. We gave him what for, all right. Confounded you two little heathens are more trouble than all the rest of the regiment put together. You're hailed in here and charges every time you turn around. I can't very well put you in cells or hang you. Oh, no, sir. We shouldn't wipe that at all. That will do, Jacob. Yes, sir. All right, Sergeant, turn them over to the bandmaster and have him tan their hides. Tell them to make it one they'll remember this time. Yes, sir. Beg in your pardon, sir, but can't we say nothing in our own defense? That's right, sir. What if a bloomin' civilian said he'd report you for having a bit of a turn-up with a friend? Suppose he tried to get money out of you, sir, and then... That will do, Peggy. Then you were fighting. Well, only between ourselves, sir, and that don't count. If you'll pardon me, Colonel, this man Smithers does have a reputation for that sort of thing, a blackmail, you know. And one thing the boys don't do is lie. It's not that we'd mind it, sir, to be called up by even a corporal. But we can't have no blinkin' civilians interfering with the business of a Majesty's regiment. All right, all right. We'll forget the birching. You're both confined to quarters for three days. But, sir... And throw away that pipe when you get outside, Peggy. You're too young to be smoking. Yes, sir. All right, Smithers. You can't find a kippling I don't know what to do with the lads. They're not really bad at heart. And they've never known any home but the army. Where did they come from, by the way? Oh, Jake and us from some back street in London. And Peggy Lew is straight off the Calcutta docks. In both cases, ancestry unknown. Well, they seem loyal enough to the regiment at any rate. They are, and loyal to each other in their own way. I'm inclined to think sometimes they've got more real spirit than all of those new regulars put together. Yes, I'd say you're overloaded with green troops, Colonel. Overloaded? Ninety percent of the regiment were in Manchester factories and Lakershire farm six months ago. Can't make a soldier that late at the time. Any chance of action fairly soon? Of the record, we'll probably move north in about ten days. Not to the front, of course. We'll give them a few months of guarding communication lines. Let them shake down a bit before they see any real action. That's a good idea. But the only thing to do is only one thing certain. This regiment is not ready for action yet. Only don't write that back to your paper. But the Gansu Govan armies seldom choose the wisest plan. On the Afghan border, a large force of Paython guerrillas began massing near the Khyber Valley, being held in check temporarily by a regiment of Highlanders and a regiment of native Gurkhas. A week later, the fore and fit was ordered to march north, contact the other two regiments, and carry out joint action to disperse the enemy. Parade ground and barracks began to hum with preparations for the coming campaign. Privates walked with the new swagger, subalterns began to snap their salutes and orders, and the young officers nearly shot one another at pistol practice. Battle. A glorious word to men who'd never fired a gun at a human being in their entire lives. But to Piggy and Jakein, the excitement was like salt in an open wound. For the band was reduced to 20 men, and the drummer boys were being left behind. I'm here if I'm gonna let him do it to me, Jakein. Me, what's going to have a career in the army? Being left behind like an old boot. And why should you worry? Now you can stay here with that bloomin' girl of yours. Ah, what's a girl when the regiment's gone up to the front? And that's another thing too. How am I going to explain to her about being left behind with the women? What do you have to explain anything to her for? She's only 13. I've been telling her I'd get myself a medal when the first campaign come along. Now am I going to do it now, I ask you? Perhaps the drummaid will give you a bloomin' medal for tooting on a fight. I heard him talking to you yesterday. Man, how was I to stop him? Piggy, he says, why don't you consider making music your career? Piggy knew the musician, a bloomin' noncombatant. I won't do it. He can try, but he can't make me. When I'm an officer, perhaps I'll invite you in and have a glass of sherry wine on mess nights, Mr. Lou. I'll be a blinkin' officer before you are. I'm going to join up with the regulars just as soon as I'm old enough. Piggy, the musician. Ah, still it. Right at the moment I don't feel like fighting even you. I heard the barracks are going to take Tom Kittle on. He's to be the bugler. Of course he's 18, though. That he is. But I can plaster the wall with him any day. And with one hand beyond me back. Perhaps we can hit him around a bit. We can't bugle no more. You could hold his hands, Piggy. And then I'll kick him in the... No, no, no. They still wouldn't take us. Our reputations aren't what they might be, you know. Oh, well. Aren't his leaves stay here and do a bit of love for myself? With our own regiment going into action? Why aren't his leaves have my... Hey, look who's coming. It's the bloomin' colonel himself. And so it is all alone. You know, jankin' me lad, I think I'll have a little talk with this colonel ship. What are you going to have, will they eat? Oh, the colonels are good, old beggar. Yeah, only pipe. Blimey. Now we're in for it again. I beg your pardon, sir. Well, Piggy, are the drums in revolt? Am I to be pulled down right here in the open? No, sir. I'd like the pleasure of a word with you, sir. All right, go ahead and have it. I'm asking you, sir. If you thought the world and all of your regiment, and it was going off to active duty without you, sir, then how'd you feel? I'm afraid I should feel a bit left out of things. And worse. It's as bad as being a blinkin' civilian, if you'll pardon me, sir. But that's how jankin' and me feels about it. You've no idea what a campaign can be like. Why, you'd flop on your face in the first 20 miles. No, we wouldn't, sir. We're good at marching. I've told my girl I'd bring her back a middle. I've just got to go. And anyhow, if I stay here, the bandmaster'll make a bl... I mean, a blessed musician out of me, sir. I see. I think you could pass a physical... Oh, not the slightest doubt of it, sir. We're both of us very healthy for our age. Please, sir. All right. I suppose it's unheard of for a border regiment to take drummers along an active campaign. But if you get past the medical officer, you can both go along. Blimey! Jankin, did you hear that? We're going up to the front. I mean, thank you, sir. Carry on. I mean, yahoo! The regiment marched out of the station two days later. And all those left behind lined the road that led past the parade ground. The band stood by and played them out waiting to fall in at the foot of the column. And although Jankin perspired and beat on his drum manfully to cover up, it was quite evident that Piggy Lu was not with the band. Jankin kept glancing at the cedar hedge behind him. And I had a rather good idea why Piggy was being detained. Oh, careful. And take real good care of yourself, Piggy. You're so venturesome. I worry all the time. It's odd, Chris. I'll grant you it's odd, but what's some hand to do when his regiment's called off to active duty now? Here, give us another kiss. Oh, Piggy. That's more like it. You just stay there like you ought to. You could have had as many as you wanted. And if I'd done that, Chris, you wouldn't think anything of me. Mark is not. At least I'd add you with me, Piggy. And all the thinking in the world I'd like kissing. And all the kissing in the world ain't like having a medal to wear on the front of your coat. Who cares about a medal? Just stay with me, Piggy, darling. And I'll love you true forever. Aren't you going to do that anyhow, Chris? You said you was. Of course I am. Be lots more comfortable if you stayed here. No, I don't take on about it, Chris. I'll be coming back, and I'll marry you someday, too. I promise. But when? Years and years, perhaps? You'll be careful, won't you, Piggy? Oh, man has to take his chances in the army, Chris. But if it happens, I'll be thinking of you right to the last. Don't talk like that. Oh, now, here, give us a kiss. Piggy, get yourself on over here. We're about to fall in. I've got to go now, Chris, me darling. Don't you be forgetting me. Oh, I won't ever, Piggy. Here, I made something for you to take with you. What's this? It's a button bag. All the regular soldiers carry them. I put some of my hair in it. Well, now, that's awful kind of you, Chris. I guess it ain't made so good, but I didn't want nobody else to help me, not even Mum. I'll carry it right over me, Art, so long as I'm alive. Don't say things like that. Piggy, come on. Give us one more kiss, now. I can't stay no longer. Oh, Piggy. Goodbye, Chris. Take care of yourself. Bye, Piggy. Be careful. Be careful. I'll be coming around to see you, Chris, me darling, when I get back from the war. Piggy. Well, it's about time. And Lucky, we're not both in trouble. Take this blink and fife in your ugly mouth and blow on it, petticoat chaser. Oh, shut up and beat your drum, soldier, before I decide to pound in your blooming head a bit. Tell the Colonel he can shove off, now. And so the fore and fit went north to the wars, first by troop train, and then on foot when the last railhead left them with a seven-day route march before they'd reached the front up ahead. And during those seven weary days, the regiment began to crack. Men weren't hardened to the long miles of marching, and they found themselves dead tired before the noon of each day. The food was bad, and the water was worse. And on the second day, the sniper started in. They would hide in the tumbled rocks of the low-brown hills beside the road and wait for the column to pass. And the first sign of one would be a flash and a puff of smoke, and some man on the long line of march would die without ever seeing the enemy who killed him. And even at night, the tired and nerve-shotted men could find no rest. If anything, the night-hours and the dark tents were a good deal worse than the daylight-hours on the dusty road. Oh, still your blooming gab into the morning, Piggie. I've got to get myself some sleep. As if I ain't marched just as far as you have. Oh, me blooming feats killing me. So is your bloody world right for getting us into this? We could have been back at the station with the fat of the land. And half way to becoming musicians like us not. In which case, I'd be asleep in a regular bed and have a decent charlie eat for once. I'm afraid you're not the army type, Jakeen. Perhaps I shouldn't have talked my friend the Colonel into letting you... Yes, sir. You don't have to call a blinkin' sergeant, sir. That ain't no arm in it. Piggie, that's another one of our sentries got himself killed out there. Piggies can sneak up in the dark without making a sound. Long knives and slice a man open as neat as you please. All right, hold your fire and see what you're shooting at. I wonder what they look like, Piggie. Those are easier pathens. Oh, what's it matter when we can't even carry rifles? I ask you now, Jakeen. Look at that. How's a man to get himself a medal when all he's got for a weapon is a blooming fight? Late afternoon of the seventh day, weary, savage, and sick. Their uniforms dulled and unclean. The four and fit rendezvoused with the Highland Brigade. Highlands, here comes the new regiment. The four and fit. Four and fit, eh? May I ask what it is they're fit for? Some of the men bore wounds, and some were stretcher cases. But the real casualty was the regimental morale. These raw conscripts had marched out of their station in the south with the band playing. And somehow they'd imagined that they might march glorious into battle the same way. But no band played when they slugged sullenly into the brigade encampment. Hey, Piggie. Think we have found the blinking wart lost? And what else? Ain't that a full-grown general old colonels are talking to there? Blimey. Look at them chaps over there. They're wearing petticoats. Now, larch, you know. They're islanders. And I've heard a man best take no liberties with them. One activity might have aroused the interest of the regiment as tired as they were. Rifle practiced the enemy. And with all 700 rifles blazing together, that's the way they felt. We've had a bit of a tough time with it coming down, sir. I might have been rather mauled with no chance of a fair return. They only want to go in some place so they can see what's before them. I understand, Colonel. I wish I could let you have a few days to recover, but I simply can't spare you right now. There'll be no need of it, sir. All we're wanting is one good night's rest. I see. Well, you can lay your camp area downstroke from the haylanders, Colonel. And I suggest you call a general inspection before dark. We plan to attack the enemy position at dawn. So, it's active duty awarded, Piggy. And how much longer do you think they're going to keep a stand in here with the bloody daylight barely coming over the hills? Oh, no. God, I've no battle till the bloomin' general has his morning tea now, can we? Let's take a look at all them patrons out there on the plane. Must be eight of them to one arse, right down the line. Then it makes it that much easier to get a medal. And how do you hope to get a medal? Maybe you're going to blow their bloody eardrums out with your little fife. More like it will not even have the chance to see how the beggars look. The band, as you might have heard, is gone to wheel and retire when we reach them rocks, while the regular soldiers go on and attack the enemy. Which, I might say, is exactly the way I'd plan it myself. I've got no fondness for being sliced up like a bloomin' leg of lamb. Oh, you've got no spirit, you bloody little beggar. Beggar yourself and a bigger one. Them as one spirit can have it. Like is not all I have to pound your head a bit before you can... Here we go, Piggy. All right, Sergeant, ready now. My colon is caught! At the quick march! Watch yourself now, Sergeant. And step lively. Just keep your eye on me and I'll make a bloody year out of you. Only someone had blundered. Someone had misread an order, and the fore and fit move out onto the plane to attack the enemy force... alone. Founded stupid conscripts? What are they up to anyhow? They've spoiled the whole plan of the battle. It's the kind of a mistake you could expect from a regiment that doesn't even know how to march. At the clump of rock the band wheeled and halted and continued to play, while the ranks opened to form a skirmish line and moved slowly ahead. Oh, steady laddies, we've had no orders to move out and therefore will stand first. If the fore and fit wishes to fight like hogs, then they'll fight alone. At 500 yards range from the enemy line the regiment began firing at will, at will and wildly. In a few minutes they'd thrown away half their ammunition and blinded themselves with their own smoke. And farther out on the plane the Afghan army stood quietly, throwing occasional well-aimed bullets into the milling herd of green troops. The blooming fools! They're bunching like a herd of sheep! Don't they realize there'll be a gazi charged at any minute? Suddenly, from the main body of the Afghan troops, a small band of about 50 python warriors charged forward and fell upon the startled Englishman. These were the gazes. The Suicide Squad always thrown out ahead of the Afghan army before any main test of strength. Swinging their long, heavy knives, they struck the close, packed British line. Why in the name of heaven don't they take open order? They'll be cut to bits! The fore and fit wayward, shotted away from the vicious slashes of the murderous bone-handled knives, rallied for an instant and held and then broke, turned tail and ran. Who will you look at them laddies? They turn and run! They might say they make better speed to the rear than they make to the fore! They're anything but the fore and fit now, more like it to call them the fore and aft! They'll take a lot tighter than that one, don't they? The fore and aft! The regiment took no thought for the wounded, for the men left behind. Nor did they stop until they jammed in the pass that led up the hill. And the band, too, was carried along with them on a long flight. All the band except... two men. You think the bloody beggars can see us hide near on the rocks? Of course not. Seeing as how they're too busy at chasing our brave comrades, look at them run the blooming cowards. He did a fine way now for a British regiment to act. Had we done the same thing, we'd not be left behind the other way we are. What's eating you? You're comfortable, aren't you? Maybe comfortable, but I ain't easy in my mind. Hey, somebody's dropped the canteen here. Maybe it's got rum in it. And how can you open the tail bar shaking it? And I'll keep your dirty hands off it. I'll do the trying it out. Well, is it piggy? Is it? No, it's water. Yeah, have yourself a free drink on a majesty drummer, boy. Look, them peat and beggars are starting back for their own lines. And keep your head down. With their blooming enemy returned, perhaps they'll come out and rescue us. Not them, the bloody cowards. Look at them, Jake. The officers has beaten them with the flats of their swords. Can't they see the patrons ain't chased them no more? They can't see nothing but their own precious skins. Off them, though. Maybe we ought to give them a little music. Show them it's all nice and cozy out here now. Oh, no. Tain't for me to do nothing like that. We should get ourselves shot. Mother, I ain't no enemy close by now. Come on, Jake, and take up your bloody drum there. You positive there's only water on that canteen? Oh-ho, so'd like as not you're a coward, too. The same as the rest of the regiment. I'll show you who's a coward piggy, my boy. And I'll be pounding your head a bit, too. The first chance I get is take your blooming fire there and stick it in your ugly face. Well, now, so you have got a bit of spirit. Maybe I'll speak to my old friend the Colonel about it. Oh, shut up and start blowing. Ready? Ready all? No. Still biggie? Back and forth the time of two in full sight. Then we'll wait in the rocks for the battle to start. Are they watching us? We'll be sure they're watching us. Ah, yes, they're watching us all right. Time held still. And even the Afghan snipers forgot their weapons. While two armies watched the tiny red-coated figures marching back and forth on the battlefield alone. Hey, and I'll tell you certain there's a pair of brave laddies down there. All right, you blinking cowards! Look at them out there! I've had two children, the only brave man in the regiment. The men of the far and aft lifted their heads, fingered their rifles, and stared without moving. And out there on the silent plain, back and forth, march, taken and piggy. I've got to play these blooming instruments all day long. Are the blighters ever going to come back? Shut up, Jake, and keep quiet. All I might say is, I should never let you talk me into this. I ain't cut out for acting beauty anyhow. I should have bloody welled a few more comfortable if I was back there. I was taken. Back taken. Oh, you blinkin'-eathen blighters, you've killed Jake! All right, I'll show you who's afraid of you! Two armies saw them die from the snipers' bullets. Two armies and the men of the far and aft. All rise to a brave enough to know how to die! Expand its radius! Armist line! This time we attack, and there'll be no- It is the far and aft. They're going back to fight. As our children have been taught on the first place, they'll not turn a box again! Hi, ladies. Now is the time for us. For as I know, it's when we join the fight. Get in! Late afternoon saw the Afghan army wiped out. And the general explained to me how everything had gone according to his plan. And how he hoped I'd cable that back to my paper in London right away. I turned and left him then, and walked out across the silent battlefield. Walked out among the silent dead. The two tiny figures lay quite close together. Jaykin fallen across his broken drum. And Piggy Liu with the fife still clenched in his dirty fist. A bulge under his tunic caught my eye. And I reached in and drew out a button bag embroidered crudely with the name Chris. Some of my own hair inside of it. I'll wear it right next to me, Art Chris, so long as I'm alive. I thought our Chris would soon forget. And how the world's memory is no longer than hers. The sun was sinking away in the west. The button bag in my hand was soaked in damp. And over the left breast of Piggy's grimy uniform. Over the pocket where citations are usually worn. A bright red stain had spread out through the coarse wool. Looking so very much like the bright red ribbon that goes with the metal. Escape is produced and directed by Norman MacDonald. And tonight brought to you the drums of the foreign aft by Rudyard Kipling. Rapid for radio by Les Crutchfield featuring Gil Stratton Jr. as Piggy Liu. Jimmy Og as Jake and Eric Rolf as Rudyard Kipling. With Jeff Corey as the colonel and Alec Harford as the sergeant. Eric Snowden as the general. Peggy Weber as Chris and Paul McVeigh as the Highlander. Music is conceived and conducted by Wilbur Hatch. Next week. You are drifting on the burning glossy surface of a tropical ocean. Alone on a tiny raft. With three murderous companions from whom you cannot escape. Next week we escape with John Russell's gripping story The Fourth Man. Good night then until the same time next week when once again we offer you escape. This is CBS The Columbia Broadcasting System.