 Lux presents Hollywood. The Lux Radio Theatre brings you I Never Left Home starring Bob Hope, Francis Langford, Jerry Coloma, and Tony Romano. Ladies and gentlemen, your producer, Mr. Cecil D. DeMille. Greetings from Hollywood, ladies and gentlemen. This evening, the Lux Radio Theatre departs from precedent to bring you the radio dramatization of a book. It's a book that since its publication on June 15, 1944 has sold over a million and a half copies, and its publishers, Simon and Schuster, believe it stands a good chance of selling a million and a half more. I'm speaking of Bob Hope's report on 11 million magnificent Americans called I Never Left Home. For some time it was sold out, but I'm told that now you can get a copy. All the profits from I Never Left Home have been contributed by Bob to the National War Fund. It's not hard to understand why if you know Bob Hope. Or if you read the preface to his book in which Bob says, I saw your sons and your husbands, your brothers and your sweetheart. I saw how they worked, played, fought and lived. I saw some of them die. I saw American minds, American skill and American strength, breaking the backbone of evil. I had a worm's eye view of what war is. Dying is sometimes easier than living through it. But this is not a book about the serious side of war. That's not my field. All I want you to know is that I did see your sons and daughters in the uniforms of the United States of America, fighting for the United States of America. And I could ask for no more. I'm Bob Hope. And now Bob brings us the more amusing highlights of his tour of many battle fronts. With him on our stage tonight are the popular and charming singer, Francis Langford, comedian Jerry Colonna, and guitar strumming, Tony Romano, all of whom were with Bob on his overseas trips. Like Bob and so many other people in radio and pictures, we of the Lux Radio Theater are happy that our productions helped to entertain the men and women of these services. I have here a letter signed by six G.I.s from a tiny outpost island of the South Pacific. They say, thank you for your most pleasant and welcome program. They give a lift to our morale. They've helped take the rough edges off of living here. And for a little while bring us back to civilization. As for Lux Terlisope, we're C.B.s and we don't do white collar work. Luxope gets us clean and it's refreshing too. Well, it's a double satisfaction to us at the Lux Radio Theater to know that our plays are appreciated and so is the product that makes possible these presentations. And now here's the curtain for act one of I Never Left Home starring Bob Hope, Francis Langford, Jerry Colonna, and Tony Romano. Ladies and gentlemen, this is Bob C.B. DeMille, Lux Radio Theater, Dr. Wasil, I'm no fool, Hope. Saying if you wash your face with Lux toilet soap, you'll never be left sitting home demote. How's that, C.B.? Bob, there are probably times when people wish you really had left home. But to be serious for a moment, I want to congratulate you on a fine book that we're proud to present in the Lux Radio Theater. I don't use that word proud very often either. You've done a grand job for the G.I.s all over the world. Oh, it's nice of you to say that, C.B., but anyone could have gotten the same kind of wonderful reception I wish I'd have got. But seriously, C.B. was Francis Langford, Jerry Colonna, Vera Vague, Tony Romano, Patty Thomas, Barney Dean, and Jack Pepper traveling around to the camps with us. It's really all been a great pleasure. You know, after four years of broadcasting for military installations, I have the uniformed forces pretty confused. They don't know which they're getting more of, corn or beans. And I have the honor of being known as the only comedian in the world who ever laid khaki eggs. Two. I, uh, man, those sailors are the toughest to get real belly last round. How can you expect a guy to double up in those kind of pants? But enough of this, this is the story of the trip we made overseas in 1943, and the toughest part was getting started. Hanging around New York, waiting for a takeoff date, got almost unbearable. We just sat around the Waldorf Astoria Hotel until one day the manager came up to me and said, how much longer would he be waiting here, Mr. Hope? I can't tell. Why? Well, if you're going to wait here much longer, you'll have to rent a room. Of course, Kelona squelched him by saying, what's the matter, you crazy or something? I couldn't understand why they wanted me to rent a room. Nobody saw me wash my shorts in the fountain. Of course, Frances Lanksford was the most excited member of our party. She kept saying, gee, Bob, aren't you thrilled to think we'll soon be flying across the Atlantic? Sure am, Frances. Only important people like generals and statesmen and diplomats get to fly the Atlantic ocean. They won't fly you over the ocean unless you make a big splash. You're not afraid, are you, Bob? Me afraid? Why, in our last trip, I was the coolest person on the plane. Yes, but this time, they're going to let you ride inside the plane. That's francy, always kidding, but Kelona's seem nervous. Hope, I'm worried. They tell me there's no armor, no guns on those pants with unenclippers. I'm afraid. Well, that must ask you should be afraid of clippers. But believe me, Kelona, there's a gentleman's agreement that no armed clipper will be attacked. Ah, yes, but everyone knows the agreement isn't worth the gentleman. It's written by it. Don't be silly, Kelona. Those Nazis don't want us. They're after much bigger fish. Yes, but they always use us little ones for bait. My arm is still sore from all those shots we had to take. Yeah, I feel like a dartboard with legs. You don't hope some people paint when they get that needle. Well, why tell me about it? Look, you're supposed to breathe the smelling sauce, not eat them. Bob? No, father, francy, that's the USO to tell us we're taking off from the Marine terminal of LaGuardia Field at 1 a.m. For a second, the bell made me feel as if I were going to school back in Cleveland. For a split second, I wished I was. They only let clipper passengers through the gate, even your wife can't pass. So Dolores and I stood there looking at each other for a minute. Finally, she said, well, well, take care of yourself. I will. Please be careful. I told you I would. Well, do I will. That doesn't sound like a big emotional scene, but it was. Saying goodbye is almost routine for us now, but never easy. They checked me out of the clipper, signed my seat, strapped me in. The window blinds were drawn for security. I could hear Long Island sound laughing against the hull and my knees knocking against the seat. The engine started. I wished I could see out. In about five minutes, my nose began to bleed. I rang for the steward. You rang, Mr. Hope. Yeah, yes. My nose is bleeding. Would you mind telling me where the oxygen mass starts? The altitude, I guess. The right and back of the ship, sir. Is there anything else you'd like before we take off? Steward was with Pan American, and most of the time, I was the American he was panning. A little while before we landed in Nova Scotia, he said, Mr. Hope, you really think that America's greatest living comedian is Jack Benny. Just for that, you can give me back my autographed picture and here's your 50 cents. We'd made 800 or 900 miles out over the Atlantic when suddenly the plane turned around. I rang for my friend the steward. Well, what is it this time, Mr. Hope? What's going on? We're going back. Oh, wonderful. Fly low and I'll look for my stomach. I'll ask Captain Vaughn to do that, sir. I'll ask Captain Vaughn myself. May I talk to you a minute, Captain? Certainly, Hope. But if it's the same question everyone else has asked, we're turning around because the wind's against it. What's the matter? Scared of a little wind? When we get a certain distance over the ocean, we check the gas supply and if we haven't got enough to make land with a 500 mile reserve of gasoline, we turn back. That's in case we overshoot the field or it's closed in. With this headwind, we'd only make it with a 200 mile reserve, so we're turning back. Thank you. Not at all. I value my life as much as you value yours. You think that's possible? I like Captain Vaughn a nice careful guy to have around. We were met in London by a big bunch of wax and wren. Wrens, those are English waves. And those wrens are some chicks. And speaking of wrens, while we were in London, the barbies caught a guy going around with a birdcage giving the mating call. But the United States consul got me out. We got our first idea of how hard London had been hit as we drove to our hotel. The people were pretending there was nothing wrong with their city the way you treat a friend who had some bad facial disfigurement. They wore their shortages like badges of honor and observed the rules of rationing with as much care as they have bade the 10 commandments. We didn't know this when we were shown to our room. First thing I did was phone room service to say there wasn't any soap in my bathroom. A voice that sounded like a combination of Arthur Treacher and Eric Bloor promptly answered. Sorry, sir, there's no soap in the King's bathroom either. The King's bathing habits are none of my business. Send up some soap. If you don't get some soap, if you don't get me some soap to take a bath, I'm apt to get very nasty. On you, sir, it would not be no. I should have brought some soap with me from America. Yes, sir. And might I suggest... Finally, Bill Dover, head of the U.S. Zone, England, fixed it so the manager opened the hotel safe and brought up a cake of soap. He lathered up, counted off six bubbles and took it back. We had dinner in our room and right after dinner, Tony Romano, our guitar player, said, Hey, I wonder what it's like to walk around on a total blackout. I've heard that remarkable things can happen to a man. Remarkable things. Like what? Who knows? You might bump into some new friend. We all got our hats and went down into the street. All of a sudden, walking along in the dark, I felt a hand squeeze my arm. It was thrilling. We walked along. I touched the hand. It squeezed mine. I whispered, Lonesome, honey, you get what a disgusting coincidence. After that, we walked arm in arm. Next morning, there were a lot of formalities. We got our APO numbers. We got some more shots and we posed for newsreels. After the newsreels, Captain Eddie Dowling picked us to a press conference and one girl reporter asked, Do you think we look shabby? How could I answer that? If I said yes, which wasn't exactly the truth, I'd be rude. If I said no, which also wasn't exactly the truth, I'd be patronizing. Those English gals are a sensation. Next time one of you gals buys a hat to keep up your morale. Remember, most of the English women have been wearing cotton stockings for years. That's pretty hard on a woman's morale and worse on a man's. Plannigan and Allen were doing a show in London called High Diddle Diddle, which we've been dying to see. And finally, one evening, the passes came through. What a show. Those British performers do a type of gag that's entirely different from mine. People laugh at theirs. As the first act ended, Plannigan stepped down to the footlights and said, Oh, ladies and gentlemen, right down here at Bob Hope and his company. Come on, let's use him a big hand. Help him get up here on the stage. Next thing I knew, Francis was behind the footlights singing. I don't know how she got there ahead of me. You met Major Cy Bartlett at the Embassy Club. The Embassy Club was packed, but the gaiety was false, like the shoulders on Frank Sinatra. Saw a kid sitting on a table all along with his feet on a chair, an RAF pilot carrying quite a load. All he did was sit and stare at the picture of another RAF pilot. Finally, he turned to me and said, See him. We went all through training together. All through everything, side by side. So on the same day, every phase of the Battle of Britain, we ate together, drank together, borrowed money from each other. And the day over the channel, I saw him blown the pieces right in front of me. And I couldn't do a thing. I couldn't do a thing. That ended my first evening in London, the city that stood off Hitler while we got ready. The next day I was to begin seeing how ready we got. I walked home in the blackout, I wanted to salute every Londoner I passed. Mr. DeMille and our stars will be back with act two of I Never Left Home. You know, it happens all the time. There's a girl I want to meet. Girl over there. She's wonderful. She's the one. I want to meet that girl in blue. It happens all the time. Wherever there's a luxe girl, a girl whose skin is really soft and smooth. There's a man who notices. Luxe girls are smart. They've found the beauty care they can depend on. A beauty care used daily by the loveliest women in the world, the Hollywood screen stars. And now here's a pretty luxe girl to tell you all about these active lather facials that really make skin lovelier. Ready, Sally? There's such a simple care of these facials. Here's all you do. Cover your face generously with a rich luxe soap lather and work it in thoroughly. Rinse with warm water and splash with lots of cold. Then with a soft towel, pat your skin dry. Now when you touch your skin, it feels so smooth and soft. No wonder the stars say they wouldn't be without luxe toilet soap. That's because they've proved it's a complexion care that works. In recent tests of luxe toilet soap facials, you know, actually three out of four complexions improved in a short time. That luxe soap lathers so rich and creamy, it feels like smoothing beauty in when you pat it over your skin. Why not try this gentle care that screen stars find so effective? Get some luxe toilet soap tomorrow. Use it regularly. See if you're not delighted with the fresher, lovelier look these beauty facials give your skin. And now Mr. DeMille returns to the microphone. Act two of I Never Left Home starring Bob Hope as Bob Hope and also of themselves, Francis Langford, Jerry Colona and Tony Romano. As we continue the saga of Bob Hope's adventures overseas, we think of Bob and his company just as they're finishing one of their shows at a United States bomber base somewhere in England. Francis Langford's song is just ending. It is 1,306 miles or 5,982 Bermashave signs. A couple of girls in the English Women's Motor Corps is driving for us, but it's easier for a woman to drive over here in England. Over here, you're supposed to drive on the left side. Here's the way we feel about you. All thanks for the memories. You men at this here base. You guys are set to pay because you're the ones who are going to go in old Hitler space. And we thank you to leave on a mission. A crew took it through their B-17. She was called the Delirator. She'd been on 12 missions and was all bombed up ready to go again. The motors were turning over, warming up. I could feel the cancer in the air. So I said to the lieutenant who was showing us through the Delirator. You guys are about to take off on another mission. Aren't you nervous or excited? No, we're more excited about your being here. Well, one crack like that paid us off for all times for anything we might ever do to entertain servicemen. I was trying to swallow the lump of my throat when suddenly Francis said, Bob, you've always wanted to go on a mission. Why don't you go on this one? Yeah. Hope, I'm the radio operator. Why don't you take my place? Let me understand this. You want to send Bob to fight the Germans? Sure. Who side do you want? I don't know anything about radio. I'd be glad to let you take my place. Well, I might be able to handle short waves. Short waves? Yeah, I'll make a short speech and wave goodbye. The crew went for their final briefing and we moved on. Every place we went, we did whatever they asked us to do. At one camp, they asked us to join a softball game. That was my favorite sport until they started publishing Esquire. A sergeant walked up to us with his arms full of baseball clothes, looked at Francis, and looked at me and said, Which one of you two gets the blomers? Those dimples on my knees fool everybody. Ah, but that sergeant was a great guy. Like all GIs, all he wanted to do was talk about home. He showed us his wife's picture. They'd been married just before he sailed for England. You look at her picture lovingly and whispered, Bob, she's wonderful. I'll never forget our honeymoon. I find a tiny one a couple ever had on a three hour pass. When we played hospitals, we not only did a show for the walking wounded, we also played the ward. I thought things off by coming up to some kid in bed and saying, Did you see our show or were you sick before? I'm naturally pale. You look good to me, soldier, as healthy as Bob. Gee, and they told me I was improving. On the way back from the hospital, we heard the terrific noise of four motored aircraft overhead. Can you tell how many of them there are, Jerry? 22. How can you count so fast? Very simple. Count the motors and divide by four. Maybe one of them is the delirator. Come on, let's go back to the base and see. You have to understand that these bomber bases in England are fairly close together. Our drivers rushed us back to the base for the delirator and taken off. I ran into my friend, the sergeant, and I said, Hey, Sarge, I'm hope. Remember I did a show here today. Yes, I know. We're just cleaning up. Well, those fortresses coming in, where do the fellows go when they land? Well, come with me. I'll take you where they'll be interrogated. We climbed into a Jeep and got there ahead of the first crew. When they saw us, they began to laugh and cry and holler. How was it, kids? 18 out 18 back. Boy, what a thrill. Those guys were so happy they threw their arms around Francis and kissed her. Francis was so happy I get in line three times before she noticed I didn't have a uniform on and those boys had reason to be happy. 18 out and 18 back is great. But I've been at bases where 21 went out and only one limped home. We stopped in a lot of hotels in rural England. The feeling of great ages you get from rural British never failed to impress me. I kept expecting Shakespeare to bring up the towels. In fact, one place was so old they asked me to bring towels up to Shakespeare. Sometimes they billeted us with an astonished English family. That's how we met the Kilbees. They were wonderful to us, but I couldn't get over feeling like the man who came to dinner. Right after we'd moved in and I'd hung my yoyo over the foot of the bed. Mrs. Kilbe asked me, do you want anybody to know you're here? I'd rather they didn't just hang up my Bob Hope is stopping here sign over the front door. So nobody bothered us. But seriously, the Kilbees were wonderful to us. If they get anywhere near any place I'm living, I'll expect them to stay in my home. I'll make the price right. The first day we left the Kilbees, Francis asked, where are we going today, Bob? I don't know, but Clark Gable will be there. What do they want with you? Francis only said things like that because the USO guaranteed her fair home. But Clark certainly took swell care of me, although none of them would go out when I phone. And Colonel John Davis was commanding officer of a hospital near Gable's base. Colonel Davis used to be the personal physician of why Frank Freeman head of Paramount Studios. He was glad to see me, though, he said. How's Frank? Oh, that reminds me, doctor, every time Frank went to a screening of one of my new pictures, you were there. How come? Mr. Freeman has a strange sort of sinking style after seeing one of your pictures. I'd like to be there to prescribe for him. But what do you prescribe? A large dose of Crosby. That's the only size he comes in. At a lot of our places, we ran into guys we'd done broadcast for in the state. There was a kid named Strickland who'd flown us from Denver, Colorado to Casper, Wyoming in a B17 in 1942. We were standing around waiting to start the show when a tough crew chief came over to see me. Hey, hope you're not always here. Who? Strickland. So when we started the show, I said, is Lieutenant Strickland in the audience? From the distance I heard. Captain, boy. Later I got to talk to him. I asked him how it was over German. That's pretty rugged, Bob, but we're doing all right. Two weeks later, that same crew chief went out of his way to get in touch with me. Hiya, Hope. Hiya, how's Strickland? Haven't heard from him in ten days. You walked away very fast. That's what he'd come to tell me. There wasn't any more to say. It's thanks to men like Strickland that in his own words, we're doing all right. One day Kelowna came rushing to me. Hey, Hope, I just found out why you're so welcome in England. You did, why? Shortage of egg. Jerry wasn't kidding about that. If he gave a girl an egg in England, it was a proposal. If she cackled, you were engaged. Our next date was an infantry training center on the moors down near Devon. It rained the whole time we were on the moors. It rained so hard the men couldn't even laugh. They gargled. Mr. Hope. Yes. I am Colonel Staven, the CEO of this outfit. I want you to know how much we appreciate you people coming out on these rainy moors to do a show for us. We don't mind, Colonel. I was wondering how I was going to get my laundry done anyway. A few of my men are out on field maneuvers. You suppose you could go out there and do a show for them? If they can stand it, we can. How about a Francis? As long as it's gone this far, let's wait out a little deeper. We drove about a half an hour through rain that was going horizontally. The moors, that's a sewer with grass. But we did a show standing in the rain on the back of a truck, and Kelona said, you can't hope this rain is wonderful. Look at your script. What about my script? The corn is green. From the moors, the RAF flew us up to Ireland and the RAF pilot let me handle his ship. They're brave kids. When Kelona saw I was flying the plane, he smiled knowingly and said quietly, how many hours have you hoped? Oh, about a thousand. Really, oh boy, where did you get a thousand hours in the air? Have you ever kissed Dorothy Lamour? But no kidding. I have had about 20 flying hours. There are just two things I can't do. Take a plane off and land it. So he landed the plane when we got the Belfast. And of course we visited the naval base at London Derry. Those Marines were sure glad to see it. That's us spelled F-A-R-F-R-A-N-C-E-S. Benefit show. While there, I was sorry I didn't get to meet George Bernard Shaw. He arranged it. Churchill wasn't so smart. Here's how I happened to meet him. I ran into Senator Happy Chandler at a cocktail party at the Dorchester. What a party. I rubbed elbows with W. Averill Harriman, Anthony Drexel Biddle and Ambassador John Weiner. But I don't think rubbing elbows will ever take the place of shaking hands. The guy I wanted to meet most didn't show up. I mean Churchill. I asked Senator Chandler what the chances were, and he said, Why not come with us? We're going to meet Churchill tomorrow. Of course, nobody expected me at 10 Downing Street, so I got in. Suddenly I was in front of Churchill. I could tell by the cigar ashes on my vest. He just stared at me, fascinated the way you stared at a bubble dancer with long fingernails. Churchill's hand said, please, to meet you, Mr. Churchill. He just looked at me as if to say, where have I seen that kisser before? Next thing I knew, I was signing the guest book. My name comes right after General Girol. Someday I'd like to meet Churchill. Maybe on her next trip, I can hide in one of Eleanor's suitcases. Next morning, we arrived at the Air Transport Command Base at Presswick, Scotland. I said to Francis, just think, Francis, here we are in Presswick, the greatest and the best kept golf course in the world. No wonder they won't let you play on it. What are you talking about? I've got a form like Jones. Yes, Jennifer Jones. We're here forever placing the world out there, Bob. Francis, the Air Transport Command planes that fly through Presswick have been to more spots than Crosby and I've built roads to. They hope they're waiting for us over there on the runway. We climbed into a C-54 just before our plane took off from Morocco. A guy lined us up and said, Of course, we don't expect any trouble, but in case of a force landing on water, the captain will throw the rubber life rafts out the forward hatch. The passengers will put on and inflate their maywears. If the pressure capsule should fail to work, the garment can be blown up manually. You will leave the ship in an orderly fashion. May I suggest speed as the ship sinks in three minutes. Happy voyage! With this cherry farewell ringing in our ears, we are off on the road to Morocco. Now for station identification. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System. In just a minute, Mr. DeMille and our stars will return in act three of I Never Left Home. And now it's the Smith's living room. Mr. Smith is reading the evening paper. Jim, did you see the casualty list tonight? Such a long, long list of wounded. Well, one thing we can hope a lot of those boys will get well again. When I think of the enormous amount of nursing and care they'll need, the supplies and medicine, sometimes I wonder if we're doing enough. If only there were more ways I could help. Lady, I wonder if you are helping in one simple way all American housewives can help. Right in your own kitchen, you may make it possible to shorten some of those casualty lists. How? By saving every drop of used cooking fat and turning them in promptly to your butcher. Fats help to make medicines, the vitally needed self a drug, the pain easing opiate, insulin for shock cases, soothing ointment for burns. Now, some women may say, but I do always save all the bacon drippings and the fat from roasts. Yes, but do you skim the fat that rises to the tops of soups and stews and gravies? Do you scrape out that last bit of burnt black and grease from your broiler? Do you save leftover cooking and salad oils too? Every drop is needed. It seems impossible, but I'm afraid it's true. American housewives are saving only about one third of the fat they could save if all housewives did the job that some are doing today. I don't think I realize how desperate the need really is. Many Americans are risking their lives without complaints. They need the life-giving medicines that fats can help the manufacture. Don't fail them. It means a little extra trouble, yes, but surely you won't begrudge it. Remember too, for every pound of fats you turn in, your grocer will give you four cents and two red ration points. More than ever, under the new rationing requirements, you'll need those extra points. More than ever, your government needs every drop of your used kitchen fats. Won't you do your share? Now, Mr. DeMille returns to the microphone. Be sure to join us after the play when our stars come forward for their curtain call. At that time, we'll have some personal matters to discuss that I think you'll want to overhear. Now, here's act three if I never left home. Starring as themselves, Bob Hope, Francis Langford, Jerry Colonna, and Tony Romano. At this point in our story, Hope and his company have successfully navigated the road to Morocco and have landed in a cloud of dust in Morocco's colorful little city of Marrakech. What a reception we received in Marrakech. I hardly know how to describe it, but to put it in the fewest words possible, not a soul was there to meet us. Finally, a lieutenant of military police showed up and said, when did you get in? We didn't think you'd make it. Well, Frank Chary say the last time I saw you, you were a cop in St. Louis. The last time I saw you, you were a flop in St. Louis. I'm just kidding. I wish you were. They general do little had a B17 waiting here for two days to take you people to Tunis. Finally, they thought your trip had been called off. We had quite a day in Marrakech. Chary took us to see the native quarters. It's sensational. I walked in, looked around and stopped dead in my tracks. I just couldn't believe my nose. In fact, nobody else could believe my nose. After the native quarters, Chary said, Care to meet a Pasha? What a cozy little nest that Pasha had. But I forget whether the 18 hole golf course was inside or outside the palace. We'd have stayed there all night, but our plane arrived from Tunis to take us to Algiers. That city certainly had changed. The last time I saw Algiers, Charles Boye was in it. We were taken directly to the Aleddy Hotel, where we were taken care of by Captain Mike Cullen of Army Special Service. I say taken care of that night in Algiers, we heard. I've been sleeping so soundly I didn't get it at first. And all of a sudden I realized their rage. I thought of France per room was a couple doors down. So I jumped out of bed, slipped on a pair of pajamas over my underwear and got there in three seconds. Without opening the door. France. France. Get up. This is it. It seemed like an hour that I stood there hollering. This is it. This is it. Oh, this is the guy who woke you up for nothing. All clear. My throat, my heart just went back to where it belonged. The next morning we took off for Tunis. The Army took us to the Hotel Trans Land Heat. We were on the fourth floor. There was no elevator, but it was all right. The first three floors were missing anyway. Then we went to do a show at the Red Cross Club. I said to the guy in charge, I guess it isn't every day you get a big movie star to work in this canteen. No, but we keep hoping one will show up. The next day we got a good look at Tunis. Oh, Santa Monica with Arabs. I wasn't surprised to see all those Arabs walking around in sheep. What can you expect when you put a couple of hundred thousand GIs in the country with their own dice? At one of the fighter bases near Tunis, I ran into Al Barber, used to be a caddy at Lakeside Golf Club. His squadron leader, Major Bud Ross, took us each up for a piggyback ride in a P-38 that they traveled. During my ride, just for fun, I decided to spit down at the ground. Ross should have told me we were flying upside down. Then we went into a dive so steep the instruments couldn't even record our speed. It was the only dive I was ever anxious to get out of. Ross did an inside turn while my stomach was doing an outside loop. It was right after that he made a force landing. I forced him. I was glad our next show was for one of the hospitals around Tunis. We saw a guy in a complete overcoat of plaster, just his eyes, nose, and mouth showing. He was one of the many brave men recovering from terrible hurts, who had the courage to laugh at themselves while we wanted to cry for them. I knew that guy in the cast didn't want our sympathy, but I didn't think he topped me. Imagine of all things to be topped by a guy who was plastered. Anyway, I said to him, looking down at this mother, Hubbard, a plaster he was wearing. Nice job, boy. Well, how'd you like it? How do you get a razor in there? I've had my clothes shaved, Bob. For Tunis, they flew us down to Berserde and put us up in another hotel, Translantique. What a spot. Berserde had been getting it from the air from both sides, but the Translantique was a nice hotel. All the rooms were outside. Some of them were even outside the city limits. Francis said, does the right here include boards? I haven't tried your bed yet, have you? I'm going up on the roof for a little quiet. We all went up. It was beautiful. The full moon was shining over Berserde Harbor and all the little LCMs, LCTs, LCIs, and LCPs. Every kind of LC was in that harbor except LC to cow. What a hit she would have been in North Africa, but then it was so dry, she probably would have given powdered milk. Those little boats were soon to take a bunch of GIs to spend the winter in Italy. Thousands of guys in tan suits and tin hats run the desert waiting for the trip that had once tempted so many American tourists. There's an old saying, see naples and die. Many of them did. It was restful on the roof, and all of a sudden I thought I heard plain, but none of the soldiers seemed to. Finally, I said, I think I hear plain. Your name's Robert, not Radar. Just a figment of your imagination, Hope. Moist, you little figment, isn't it? I slipped down the banisters and the MP who was supposed to take care of us hollard. Well, after a hurry, they're starting to activate the smoke pot. What does that mean? When the crowd of farmers come over, we like smudge pots to smoke over the town so the farmers can't see their target. That's why we have to hurry to get out of town. I'm way ahead of you. I'm dreaming of getting out of Africa. I didn't come all the way over here to become a smoke ham. Hold on. Can't you make this Jeep go faster twice in the last few seconds? We've talked about it. It's a pretty colored bullet right over our head. Hey, sir bullets, it's time to dive. Get under something. This is the first time in my life I ever wished I was a gopher. Don't stand there, Hope. Crawl in here. That's a sewer. I'm not going to crawl in any sewer. Talk me into it. The raid turned out to be merely an attempted reconnaissance. I honestly don't think it had anything to do with us being in berserdy, but I wasn't taking any chances. Next morning, I had a little talk with Captain Cullen about moving further back to the harbor, maybe as far as East Orange, New Jersey. Colonel Blessie of the 56th evacuation hospital wants you to stay there. It's about three miles back up in the hill. So our staff was moved to the 56th evacuation hospital. Now I want to tell you, Colonel Blessie and his staff were wonderful to us. And the receptions we got from the boys around berserdy was thrilling. There was one little village where there were 3,000 soldiers stationed. One of them told me, you know, there are only two names in this town and they both look like Mrs. Frankenstein. And they never go out without chafferones. Well, that kills that. Nah, even with chafferones, they got more dates than the heavy-load miles. Happy girls. No, their schedule is so crowded on Saturday nights we all have to synchronize our watches. Well, how you doing? The girls are very fair. They divide us between them and gave each of us a date, but I'm worried. What about? I maybe shipped home before May 7, 1948. We wound up today in a big hospital about 30 miles from berserdy. After we'd finished the show, we were all pretty tired, but then the asked us to play the war. We figured maybe some of those guys were a little more tired than we were, so we stayed. That delay may have saved our lives. As he went from bed to bed, one boy pressed a little bracelet he'd made himself into my hand and whispered, I want you to have it, huh? And keep it. Thanks, son, I will. Francis started singing to him. I didn't want to do it. He closed his eyes and I went on. That boy's still living. I wanted to know I still have his bracelet and cherish it as a memento of those extra 40 minutes we spent in some hospital ward. An extra 40 minutes that made it possible for us to be outside of berserdy watching bombs fall instead of inside berserdy where they were falling. We were about 12 miles out of town when the rain started. Our anti-aircraft went into action. Searchlights began to pin down the crowd-bombers. Don't bomb the gun block. They're coming down and playing. One of the MPs said if we heard a whining noise, they hit the ditch. Everybody heard a whining noise, then came a long, light whistle in the MP hollard. There it is! Hit the ditch! I did a half-spin in both directions, piroted to left and right out of the jackknife with a half-gainer and hit the ditch ahead of Francis. They diagnosed what I had as a sprained ligament caused by temporary insanity. When we reached the hospital, they told us there had been 114 casualties. We did what we could to help. Let's cigarettes for the guys. Talk to them. They took us into the operating room. Somebody pulled aside a curtain. There were 17 doctors and nurses all operating at once. It was pretty grim, but lives were being saved. When things quieted down, they insisted on looking at my leg. It had some scratches on it, and the infection starts too easily in the African heat. The guy who was doing the work seemed a little nervous, so I asked him how he happened to be working in the hospital. All he said was... Drafted. I mean, how did you get into the medical corps? Drafted. Were you a medical student? No. Well, how could they put a guy in the medical corps who never had anything to do with medicine? They asked who it worked for last. I put on Dr. Pepper. You're right. Of course, he was only kidding. I must say he put on a nice bandage, but on the wrong leg. And I'm only kidding. Those people in the medical corps are doing a great job that they can well be proud of. We went from the hospital at the Berserty Naval Base, and while we were playing here, Captain Cullen phoned to say we were leaving by B-17 the next day for sunny Sicily. On the way to Sicily, I made a speech to our troop because by arrangement, I was the head of it. We'd arranged that I should be the head in France at the lake. I said, Captain Cullen told me we're going to be closer to the active front than any entertainers have been so far. We're going to be right behind the troops. I'm telling you this so you'll know what Sicily means. I could tell what they were thinking, but Cologne expressed it perfectly. He said, To me, Sicily means... Cullen was more serious. He had a solemn expression and didn't say a word. He was asleep. Francis, of course, was a usual calm self. What a thrill when we picked up the Sicilian coast. The island looked so peaceful I couldn't help murmuring. Ah, Sicily, mother of bootleggers. Three days after Messina fell, we were playing a hospital in Palermo where we ran into one of the really great historians of the men who were fighting this war, Little Ernie Pyle. All Ernie could say was... Well, then, glad to get over here to see what these guys had gone through. I'm glad to, Ernie. I'll buy you a drink. We wanted into a bar. Ernie called a kid over and said to him, You're a ranger, aren't you? Yeah. This boy didn't look like a ranger. The rangers sneaked around enemy lines and cut communications. One of the toughest assignments of the war. But this kid didn't look tough enough to beat Margaret O'Brien in a game of beanbag. Before long, he was saying... Would you really like to hear a poem I wrote, honest? Sure. In just a minute, there's another ranger. Hey, fella. Over here. Oh, we got company. Did you guys know each other? Maybe. Have I seen you someplace before? I don't know. What part of hell are you from? We never got to hear his poetry. Next morning, we were all standing in front of about 20,000 guys terraced up the hillside under a bright Sicilian sun. Francis was astounded. Look, Bob, every one of them has a helmet full of gray. Lucky this isn't tomato country. Huh? Well, what do you know? Air cover. It's going to give me a feeling of security. And kill the jokes. Jokes are more useful than we are. The pilots dove on so many points, I began to think they were getting our show in a short way. But the guys loved it. We drove out through lines and cheering GIs. They threw bunches of grapes into our car. It was a nice gesture, but a 30 miles per hour did I wind up with a snoot full. We all hit the pad about 11.30 that night. Next thing I remember was hearing footsteps running up and down the hotel corridor in an army 45. First I wondered what Gene Autry was doing in town. Boy, what a chase. Then I thought of sabotage or fifth column activity. The next thing I thought it was jumping out the window. Fortunately, the fourth thing I thought it was that we were on the fifth floor. All of a sudden there was a distant boom and the drone of Junkers 88 and I knew we were in for it. The docks, the natural target. We were only two blocks away. What a place for a hotel. I thought of doing everything in the world but going to the bomb shelter. I began to talk to myself, should I put on my helmet? That's silly hope wearing your helmet in bed. Maybe I should get under the bed. What for? If the stuff can go through the roof, it can go through the bed. Better ride down the bed and land on you. How about the closet? You want me to sew you know. Oh, stop acting like a coward. Who's acting? The noise grew worse and worse and worse and then almost by magic silence. I was too scared. Say, Jerry, do you suppose do little nose we've already taken Sicily? Where's that special service officer, the Captain Cullen? Here I am, Jerry. I've been busy with the war but I'm with you guys now. How'd you like to raid, Bob? Do people like those things? You didn't show the white feather. White feather, what's that? Well, when you're so scared your knees shake and you turn green and ghost pimples stand out all over you. Not showing the white feather. That's showing the white feather, huh? Yeah. Shake hands with an ostrich. Well, pull your head out of the ground. Let's have breakfast. Okay, Captain, the next day we played a few shows as we worked away from Plermo and finally boarded a C-47 for Al Gears where we ran into John Steinbeck and Quentin Reynolds. And that very great American, General Eisenhower, was gracious enough to send for us and give us a few minutes. When we came in, Eisenhower greeted us with, I understand you've had to make excitement on your trip. Enough, General. You may get some rest here in Al Gears. We're protected by gun, planes, and warship. We haven't had a bombing in three months. Oh, glad to hear that, sir. That night we were happy just thinking about Eisenhower's word. You may get some rest here in Al Gears. And at 4.20, you're never safe anywhere during a war. The all clear sounded at 6 o'clock and at 7.30 we were on our way home via Presswick in London and Iceland. We did a couple of impromptu shows for those forgotten guys in Iceland and took off the next morning for Uncle Sugar with a stranger company that I've ever flown in the ocean with. Captain Bob Buck was our pilot and John Van Duren was our navigator. And besides our little group, the plane carried several high-ranking officers and two casualties. One was an eagle boy who was being rushed back to Walter Reed Hospital for an eye operation. The other an Irish kid from the Middle East, they were rushing home for a special brain operation. Each of these privates was attended by a medical corps major. It was a long and anxious flight and all of a sudden we cut through the clouds that were hanging low over Manhattan. And there she stood, carrying the same torch that a half a million men we talked to and played for and chowed with all over Europe and Africa were carrying. The torch of liberty. What she stands for is what they're battling for. And they know it. Believe me, friends, this war has made many a young man think. We can tell that from any one of the letters chosen at random from the thousands they send us. And those letters pay any man or woman a million times for any little thing he or she may do to bring those fighting men and women of ours a little pleasure. A little forgetfulness and a little breath of home. Those letters, honestly, it's fantastic. You do just a little bit for those guys in comparison for what they're doing for you and you receive letters thanking you. They thank you. There never will be enough that you can do to thank them. Try to do enough. Try. Or it'll be forever on your conscience. Those men and women who did so much to make a world safe for you and yours. Giving our sincere congratulations to Bob Hope and his troupe, not only for their performance here tonight, but for the great job that they've done among our servicemen and women overseas. Well, thank you, CB. And just an appreciation, here's an autograph copy of my book. Oh, thank you, Bob. Thank you very much. I'll expect you to check tomorrow. Thank you. But this is autographed by Bing Crosby. Well, you save ten of those and get one of mine. Anki told me to say yes. You know, Bob, I never thought of you as an author. Never thought of me as an author? Well, I once got ten dollars a word, CB. Ten dollars a word? Yeah, I talked back to the judge. And while we're on the subject of money, CB, I hate to bring it up on a network, but I don't want to seem grasping or anything, but I just wondered, you know, when I might pick up the loose lettuce that you have. Well, please tell me, Bob, is it true that you pay the performers on your show with precedent? That's right. You should see the smiles I get. Well, you'll find a case of luck-toilet soap waiting for you at the cashier's window. Well, that's a laugh, and I was talking about smiles. You should consider yourself lucky, Bob. You know, CB, I carried luck-toilet soap with me on all our overseas trips. I wouldn't have been without it. I'll bet the boys appreciated that complexion, Francis. I guess you're right, CB. The first time Francis stepped to the mic, 5,000 men whistled as one and blew me off the stage. Speaking of stage, what do you have on luck next Monday night, CB? We planned a rather different type of play for our next Monday, Jerry. It's called the Master Race. The Master Race, you mean RKO's new picture, CB? Well, that's it. The story not only thrilling in itself, a story of love and intrigue and suspense, but one that carries a vitally important message for Americans today. It shows dramatically and vividly how the German underground is plotting now to undermine our peacetime reconstruction and sow the seeds of a third world war. I hope you have the same swell cast the picture had, CB. Now, luckily we do. Our stars are George Cullors, Nancy Gates, Stanley Ridges, Paul Guilfoyle, and Helen Bevelin. All from the original picture. Well, CB, having been at the front and seen how some of Herr Schickelbruggruber's troops work, Herr Schickelbruggrubber, F-R-A-N-C-E-S. But sincerely, CB, having been at the front, I said that and seen how some of Herr Schickelbruggruber's troops work, S-D-H-I-C-K-E-L. I can sincerely tell you that the Master Race is a play that everyone should hear and take to heart. I'll certainly be listening, CB. Good night. Good night, CB. Where's the cashier? Good night. Good night. Things eternal. Our sponsors, the makers of Lux Toilets Oak, join me in inviting you to be with us again next Monday night. When the Lux Radio Theatre presents George Cullors, Nancy Gates, Stanley Ridges, Paul Guilfoyle, and Helen Bevelin in the Master Race. This is Cecil B. DeMille saying good night to you from Hollywood. Bob Hope, Francis Langford, Jerry Colonna, and Tony Romano appeared through the courtesy of PepsiDent. Our music was directed by Louis Silvers. This program is broadcast to our fighting forces overseas through cooperation with the Armed Forces Radio Service. Our Lux Radio Theatre presentation of I Never Left Home has come to you with the good wishes of the makers of Lux Toilets Oak. The beauty care that nine out of ten Hollywood stars use to help keep their complexions beautifully clear and smooth and as flawless as every woman wants her skin to be. In the Lux Radio Theatre next week, we will have as usual our producer, Cecil B. DeMille, and his musical director, Louis Silvers. Be part of the coast-to-coast audience that gathers each week to enjoy this hour of dramatic entertainment with the finest artists of Broadway and Hollywood in plays that you yourselves have told us you'd like to hear. This is your round, Sir John M. Kennedy reminding you to tune in again next Monday night with Mr. Race with George Kaloris, Nancy Gates, Stanley Ridges, Paul Gilpoir, and Helen Beverly. 24 points for butter. Oh, whatever will I do? Use creamy spry for cakes and pies. It takes only two. Yes, ma'am, spry is still the buy. Use pure spry shortening for all baking and frying. Use it, too, instead of butter for white sauce and for vegetables. Spry helps solve your ration problem, gives you more delicious food. Tomorrow, get spry, S-B-R-Y. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.