 Thank Lovejoy, on the Hallmark Hall of Fame. And here is our distinguished host, Mr. Lionel Barrymore. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the Hallmark Hall of Fame. We bring you a true story, not from the life of one man, but from the lives of four men whose act of faith and bravery has already become a legend in our times. Our star is Frank Lovejoy. We present a brief span in the lives of Reverend George Lansing Fox, Rabbi Alexander David Good, Reverend Clark Pulling, and Father John Washington, four men of God. Though we may not remember their names, their deed has been etched on the stones of history. These are four chaplains who went down at sea aboard the United States ship Dorchester, and this is the story of how they died. Winter, in the year 1943, time of the monster tank on the desert, time of the strafing plane on the clotted roads of Europe, time of the dripping jungle, booby trapped silently, then screaming, time of war, of ration and of refugee, and time for something else. The intimate things, person to person, the small talk and the long silences, and the farewells. Goodbye, Wyatt. Goodbye, as said by Reverend George Lansing Fox to his son in a place of Vermont white with snowfall. Teresa, look at me. Goodbye, Teresa. As said by Rabbi Alexander David Good to his wife Teresa while their child slept. Well, goodbye, Father. So soon. Goodbye. As said by Clark Pulling Minister to his father. So long, Ma, and don't worry, Ma. As said by Father John Washington, a priest of the parish of St. Stephens to his mother. Farewells as made by four men of God. Who in youth had been poet, scholar, soldier, alter boy, and were chaplains now in the army of the United States? Methodist, Jew, reformist, Catholic. Who with other men of their face boarded the troopship Dorchester? As she lay at anchor in a port of Massachusetts loading cargo in the young GIs. To fill the dark winter waters of the North Atlantic. To a wasteland of war. To a rendezvous with destiny. And the cabin assigned them to the four chaplains. On its wall, a small loud speaker. Now here this will wear life jackets at all and awake. All hands will wear life jackets at all times. Whoever and who will join Rabbi, may I say something first? Of course, since this small cubicle of ship has been assigned to us, to the four of us, and since it is here we will live together for a time and share in smallness the four of us. Let us then, let us then what Reverend? Let us then not crowd it more, or stifle it more with the formalities of no man creature. Let it not be Reverend this and Rabbi that or Doctor this and Father that. Just by our first names, agreed? Agreed. I therefore now pronounce this cabin to be off limits to protocol. Where formalities come at end. I am George Fox. Alex, Alex Good. Clark Polling. And this is Father John. John Washington. Now, what is it you're going to ask me, Alex? Or if you'd help me with my life jacket. With your maywest? Well, this thing you wanted me to help you with, it's called the maywest. Oh, I'll help you with it. Give it to me. Now, this stuff buckles through here, I believe. Oh, yes. No, perhaps through here. George. Yes? You were in the other world, weren't you? In the First World War. Yeah. In the Ambulance Corps? Yes. There. These things are quite simple, really. You're the only one of us who really knows what war can be like. The boys, the young men who are on the doorchester with us, they don't know war either. As you don't, Alex. Or John or Clark. But you are a young man also. And for a time, the good piece. And this knowledge of peace is greater than my knowledge. The Holy Enker is about to sail. I think I'll go up on deck. Talk to the boys. Simply need anything, Orton. Well, wait. I'll go up with you, George. So at 0600, the doorchester cast off her lines and headed out to sea. She was slow-footed and moved awkwardly and exhibited immediately a slowness to the rudder. At point option, she rendezvoused with the others and the doorchester became the seventh and last ship of a small convoy. North now, and the sea was ugly. North and the sea was squall and fitful storm. Ice and a loud slap of encrusted lines against the booms in the kingposts. Movenland. And north again. North and then northeast. And then a thing happened. Somewhere the laughter of the GIs and the crew. Somewhere in the sea it gentle. A thousand miles from anywhere the songs became more infrequent. The word was fear. Not me. I'm not afraid. Corporal Sidney Paterka, formerly of Scranton, Pennsylvania. Shipboard scene, gray day. His conversation at the rail with George Lansing Fox. Not me, Padre. Well, I'll tell you how it is if you want to hear. Yes. Yes, I won't do. I asked myself, what is there to be afraid of? Being here now in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, going to fight a war. What's the scary, I asked myself? The answer? Dying. And that's what's to frighten you. Getting blown up in this freezing ocean. Look, Padre. Yes. I'm never going to die. I've tried to think about it and I can't. I just can't make the picture. You know what I mean? Yes, I do. Padre? Yes. What about you? What do you mean? Here, now. You mean, am I frightened? Yeah. There's a feeling, Corporal, intimate and uncomfortable. And I take the Bible and I read. And soon the feeling is gone. Bible. Yes. I don't mean to be disrespectful. All right. But what do you find in the Bible that makes you not scared? Words of hope, Corporal. And salvation. Yeah, yeah. You want to listen to something? You want to hear a story? Yes. Once upon a time there was a big explosion and Sidney's father was down in the mine, him and some others. And they couldn't get to them. Sidney's mother stood outside of the mine. She read the Bible. She told Sidney what to say from the Bible when they brought up Sidney's father. It was God's will, Corporal. Yeah, see you, Padre. And walked among the men for a chaplainess. Always with a word of cheer. Always with some small token to make their strange life at sea a little easier to live through. Now hear this. Radio Shack aboard the Dorchester out of Massachusetts bound for Greenland. They ignite the unceasing chatter. Physicians and instructions in code in code to the high officers of the ship. Nevertheless, it became this scuttled butt to the men below decks. I'm telling you, I'm telling you. There's a sub-following us. Did you say it? Boy, I know. I ain't telling you how I know, but I know. You asked Sergeant Hardesty. Hey, Hardesty, come here a minute. In another few hours in the captain's cabin. Skipper? Come in, gentlemen. Thank you. How are you, Robert? Father? Oh, just fine. Just a comment, thank you. What can I do for you? We're the victims of a promise, Skipper. Oh. Yes, several of the men came down to our cabin. You must understand they have permission to do this anytime they want. Yes. And? Scuttled butt. Scuttled butt. The men picked up the term from your crew, and we picked up the term from the men. What scuttled butt? That there's a submarine following us. Oh. We've been coerced into coming up here and asking you, Skipper. It is very difficult to refuse the request of young men who are deeply concerned. Of course it is. The rumor is that the subs have been following us since we pulled out of harbor in Greenland. Before that, the sub-pictors up near Cape Farewell has been with us since. When we made port, it submerged, waited outside, picked us up again, and is following us again. Well, Skipper, I'm sorry, Father. I didn't mean to be terse about it. I'm just not supposed to show concern. That's all. We've signal for help, an air screen, patrol bombers for escort, and we're waiting. Well, that's what we wanted to know, Skipper. We'll wait. And the next day was for a brief span of pleasant one. An hour's worth of fringe sunshine. Yet there was a warmth to it, and it lay against the cheek here and there, and produced a smile here and there. Father Washington was on the bridge with the Skipper. It's not so bad. The runder man's now pure poison. Almost no one comes back from that. But that's not what you came here for, is it? My general impressions as to what runs are tough, which ones are easy, which ones are... Father. Yes? I had a message a little while ago. About the submarine? Well, about the aid I requested. That's what I mean. The message said that the planes are on duty elsewhere. It was impossible to send any at this time. I thought I'd tell you so that you know our coordinates, Father. I don't mean longitude and latitude. I mean where we are. With relation to God. Yes. And there's no possibility of aid. Done. Thank you. And now, Lionel Barrymore brings you the second act of our true story of the Four Chaplains, narrated by Frank Lovejoy. The year was 1943. In the North Atlantic, the German submarines were ruining the war. Traveling in wolf packs were devouring Allied ships almost faster than they could be built. And so tankers became transports and transports became aircraft carriers and freighters became troopships. And one of these vessels, a much-eminent civilian life, had lately been commissioned the United States ship, Dorchester. Her name was the Dorchester and she wasn't very much. Old, small and slow. Where course of the sea and what a dignity there is in that. And this about her. Last troopship of a small convoy and speed of convoy determined by her slow pumping motors. Throbbing and lonely reaches of the sea and taking men to war. Submarine bait and the protective planes on duty elsewhere. No possibility of aid. Known to the captain and to the wireless operator and to Father John Washington. Not known to the men. Okay, I'll find you dreaming No pretty little nades to deceive me I'm happy as a king believing me And we go rolling, rolling, rolling All right, all right, pipe down, pipe down. Okay, Reverend, it's your turn. What's it gonna be? Well, do you know eternal father strong to save, Corporal? Sorry to say. Let me see. Yeah, yeah, sure. Okay. You ready? Rabbi? Oh, hello from Washington. We were speaking for a moment. Pauling's gonna go and get a hymn for a battle. I was talking to the skipper a few moments ago. Oh, about the submarine? Yes. We've heard Pauling and Fox are myself. You finally got the sleep, so we'll be right. Yes. Shall we join the party? After you, Father. No, after you, Rabbi. Father? Yes, Rabbi. This has the beginnings of a very bad joke. Shall we go together? Together. Oh, August on the folding knee And come up here, this race is free Oh, hear us when we cry to thee For mercy Voices in the lower of the night And sometime later, almost suddenly The end of it to the ballad and the hymn The soldiers departing from comradeship And going below decks to their bunks to solitude For it was since there was something gloating Men lay in their bunks fully clothed And in life preserved and whispered dear names Shape of a corner of a war Which was also this Yes? Oh, hello, Corporal. Can I speak to you, Padre? Of course. Come on in. Sit down. Oh, thanks. I'll have some coffee here if you... No, no, no, thanks, Padre. You certainly can play the piano, Corporal. When did you win it and all those songs? I knocked around scrantin' a lot, Padre. Picked up how to do things. You know, life of the party, things like that. You play very well. Yeah, they tell me I got the touch. Listen. Yes? That little talk we had. You remember we had a little talk before? Just you and me? Yes. That was a long time ago. Yes, it's been a long voyage. Yeah, long enough to think about a few things. I've been thinking about them. And... And... How are I? Been thinking about them. Back and forth. Changing course a hundred times just like this tub we're on. And I finally got something figured. What? Like how long a guy can be. Like how he brags to a Padre that nothing can scare him. Brags it to his bunk mates. Nothing can scare him. He says not one thing. What's dying, he says. Dying is dying, he says. Because he dreamed his old man dead a thousand times in the mines. And it finally happened, for real. Padre. Yes? Maybe not before, maybe not ever before. But now. Now, right now. I'm scared. We're all out of talk. Yes? About a submarine that's supposed to be following us. Death follows us all the days of our lives, Corporal. And suddenly it leans close and brushes against us. And it's true. Yes. And do not fear it. Really? What do you mean? I mean, really? You're not scared? I don't think so, Corporal. What once I thought was the sensation of fear, I believe now to be the closeness of God. Listen. Yes? Listen, it's funny. I felt I had to ask you something. What I came down here for. What I really came down here for. What? I want to borrow a Bible. Of course. Yes. It's all right to be frightened. It's how God tells you to pray. Thank you, Padre. Something happened. The Dorchester sailed over an invisible boundary and it was the Arctic Sea. And this was good. No submarine was there following us into this ice. Said the rabbi, sail an hour and therefore knowledgeable about such things. The ice had ripped open a submarine as if it were a tin can. And ice bergs, most of them are underwater. Greatest hazard there is for a submarine. Said the young minister, sailor also and also knowledgeable. Listen. What? Listen. The ship's engine. Yes. We slowed down. Yes. Yes, we have. I wonder why? Be careful. The ice bergs and the pan ice. Pan ice? That's the ice that the keel can cut through. Oh. Father Washington's a big reader, Pauling. Pan ice. Why? There's nothing else I know. Why? From here on till we get to Port and Greenland, Skipper will keep running or at half speed. And if he doesn't, Mariner? Why, I'll just go up to the bridge and have a little heart to heart chat with him. I'll say, Skipper, it has come to my attention that you have ordered full speed ahead. That you're too eager to make Greenland port of call. Perhaps you've overstepped your authority, sir. Therefore, I suggest, sir, that you bring her back to half speed again, for we're far enough north now, sir, to come soon into the protecting umbrella of patrol planes. Two belts. One o'clock. Nice. Oh, the things I've learned. Yes, the things we've all learned. The German submarine Skipper had caught the Dorchester fare on his periscopes crossed here. The torpedo running swift and true ripped the ship open and exploded in the engine. And in a moment, the boilers went up. In 30 seconds, a hundred men died by wave, fire, fear. Which was the thing to do with the fact that the lifeboat was overcrowded, which caused it to overturn into the sea. To be noted, the life expectancy of a man in these frigid waters is somewhere between 18 and 40 minutes. Now, in the blackness of this night of terror, here were four chattelers. I've lost my life jacket. I can't swim up round. Take this, soldier. I won't need it. And there, where the deck was already awash, you'd be all right, son. You'd be all right. I'll carry you. Hold it. And midships. Over the side, soldier, quickly. Quickly. I'll help you. And on the after deck, hide this around you. And this. I'll go. And God bless you. And somehow they came together before chaplains, each without a lifeline. Somewhere off in the sea, poor men were cheating death because of them. And the chaplains loathed ours. Our Father, the child in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom, thy will, and the blackest place, in one and a half days, a holy will, and spiritless sun. When I used to pray, I didn't know where I was headed. I didn't know where I was headed. Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And leave us not in temptation, but forgive us our trespasses. Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. And so this was a sea of glory. Can't think of a more fitting honor to the memory of our gallant fighting men and women than tonight's story on the Hallmark Hall of Fame. And while we honor the memory of those who have gone, let us not forget the ones who are now serving. Well, Frank LeBjoy, my congratulations on a really moving narration. It was magnificent. This is Lionel Byron Rossin, good night. Our producer-directors William Frug. Our transcribed script tonight by Morton Fine and David Friedkin is based on the book, Sea of Glory, by Francis Burkesme Thawker. Featured in our cast will hurt Butterfield, Jack Krusen, Polly Bear, Vic Perrin, John Daner, Barney Phillips, Jerry Hausner, and Sam Edmonds.