 Family Theater presents Nancy Gates and Robert Rockwell. From Hollywood, the Mutual Network and Cooperation with Family Theater presents The Quiet War, starring Robert Rockwell. And now, here is your hostess, Nancy Gates. Thank you, Tony Lafranco. Family Theater's only purpose is to bring to everyone's attention a practice that must become an important part of our lives. If we're to win peace for ourselves, peace for our families, and peace for the world, Family Theater urges you to pray. Pray together as a family. And now, to our transcribed drama, The Quiet War, starring Robert Rockwell as Wayne. Barbara? I'm awake. It's dawn. We're still here. I've been awake for a few minutes. You were so quiet. I was just lying here, looking at, at where the Beckman's house used to be. Floated away, honey. About three o'clock. Just that loose and floated away. Everything's gone. Almost everything. That's the way floods are. I guess we aren't the first people this has happened to, either. The house is finished. It was a nice house. I'm glad it's brick. Not too much chance of us floating away. Unless the water gets higher. You know, I think the rain's letting up. We'll be all right. You never think something like this will happen to you. No. You never do. Maybe it takes something like this to make a person realize that he can lose more important things in his house. Yesterday I was concerned about the house, the car. Not about very much else. Those things at best are transient, fugitive possessions. I should have been more concerned about my non-fugitive possessions. The ones I can keep forever. What are those? My responsibilities. Love we have for each other. You, your mother and me. Listen. Listen, do you hear something? No. Just the wind. Wait. It's a boat. Yeah, that's what it is. Where, where is it? That way, I think. Yes, yes, there it is. Hey! Over here. You and the boat. Over here. Did they see us? Yeah, they've seen us, honey. They're turning. It won't be long now. Look around, Barb. Look around. See if you can see her. I suppose there are lots of these places. She might be at any one of the others. Oh, Daddy. No, no, she's all right, baby. After all, your mother was a nurse when I married her. She's probably just busy helping out. Not all the flood victims came away as well as we did, you know. But grandmother wouldn't be helping out. No, grandmother wouldn't be helping out. Kenneth Wayne? Is there a Kenneth Wayne here? Oh, see, honey, she's probably trying to reach us now. Here, I'm Kenneth Wayne. Over here. Are you Kenneth Wayne? That's right. Some news about my wife. That's right, Mr. Wayne. Is she all right? She's up on the next floor. Is she all right? Helping with the sick. Had me down here paging you about a dozen times. Thank God. Thanks. I mean, thanks for finding me. There's no thanks necessary. At a time like this, everybody has to do what he can, you know? I don't suppose you've heard anything about a Mrs. Harold Wayne. She's my mother. I'm sorry. Might be upstairs, too, though. There's a lot of people up there. How do we get there? Upstairs, I mean. Well, just pass that Red Cross booth, the stairway. Next flight out. Thanks again. Don't mention it. I hope you find your mother. Thank you. See, I told you she'd be all right, didn't I? She probably got out before the flood hit. But she didn't even get her feet wet. Do you think we'll find grandmother, too? No, they were together when I left the house yesterday morning. They're probably together now. Kemi, oh, my son, my boy. Hello, mother. Oh, you're safe. You're safe. My prayers have been answered. You've been brought back to me safe and sound. I'm safe, but I haven't been brought back to you. Let me look at you. Oh, you poor dear. Oh, you look like you've had a terrible time. And you, too, Barbara. Where's Marbra? How's the house? We heard the talk. The house is gone, Barbara. Yeah. You better go and find your mother. Tell her I'll be along in a few minutes. I want to have a little talk with your grandmother. A talk, father? The kind I told you about last night on the roof. All right. I'll be along in a little bit. I'll tell her. Is that where you were? On the roof? That's right. Come over here, mother. We'll sit down and have a little talk. I'm glad you decided to give me this first few minutes, Kenny, or if you only knew how I worried about you. I didn't just decide to give you these first few minutes, mother. Oh, boy. All night on that roof. Mother, when you listen to me, now, please don't change the subject. Darling, don't you think we might discuss this later? Now, when you're so overwrought, it doesn't seem. We'll talk about it now. Is it that important? I'll let you decide how important it is. I'm afraid I can't let you live in our home any longer. I said I'm afraid I can't let you live in our home any longer. Now, the flood hasn't quite ruined me. I have a few dollars left in the bank. Part of it is going to get you a railroad ticket back to Dayton just as soon as I can arrange it. I don't understand. Well, I'll try to help you understand. Let's take it from the beginning. When you left father and came to stay with us four months ago, we'd been doing pretty well, then. Married 14 years, almost 15. Oh, we'd had a few ups and downs, but we'd managed to come out on top. We were happy and secure, and we all loved each other. Margaret and I loved each other, and we loved Barbara, and she loved us. Then you came to our house. Now I can see it. From the day you arrived, things started to change. Remember? You put your things in the room Margaret had prepared for. Then you'd come down to the kitchen to visit while she began to fix dinner. Unpacked so soon? No, not quite, but there's not much left to do. I'm having a leg of lamb for dinner. I hope you like lamb. Sounds lovely. Do you want me to make the mint sauce? Mint sauce? Surely you're going to have mint sauce. I never knew my son to eat lamb without it. Well, it might taste pretty good at that. I sure haven't had any for a long time. I don't believe we have any fresh mint, do we can? Well, there's none in the garden. Julie Barbara wouldn't mind running down to the market for some? I suppose not. 15 years married, and I never knew my husband like mint sauce. Why didn't you say something, Ken? Maybe no one ever asked. Well, after all, I had him for almost 30 years before you got him. I think I know my boy a little better than you do. I should think after your long trip you'd be all worn out. Ken, why don't you take your mother into the living room and visit? And don't worry, I can make mint sauce. Oh, we'll have lots of time for visiting. Besides, if I'm going to live with you, I'll have to earn my keep. Margaret, dear, where do you keep your aprons? I couldn't see it then, but I can see it now. From the very beginning, you almost made her compete with you for the management of the house. She told me about a lot of things, but I guess I laughed them off, thought they were unimportant. I remember them now. How an hour after she dusted a room, you'd go over it again with a dust cloth, almost making a point of letting her see you do it. Now, she never had a chance to prepare a meal her own way or even bake a pie without supervision. She mentioned how you frequently found it necessary to iron shirts, she'd just iron. Well, there must have been 1,000 things in the campaign you staged, subconsciously or otherwise, to make her feel like an incompetent in her own home, to prove to yourself, or to me, that you were better qualified to keep my house than she was. After a while, Margaret got tired of competing. She got tired of telling me about it. Till that evening, when I came home to find both my wife and daughter in tears. Barbara, is that you in there? Barbara, what on earth are you crying about? Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Well, sure, honey, but just tell me, what's it? I don't want to talk about it. Please, Dad, just leave me alone. Well, if that's the way you want it, honey. I wonder what's gotten into her. Margaret? Margaret, you home? I'm home. I'm home, all right. I just saw Barbara and she was crying. Not you too. You mean you care? Would you mind telling me what's going on around here? Your mother, that's what's going on around here, on and on and on. I've just had a talk with her. Well, you sound mad. I am mad. She can take over my house. Well, I'll stand still for that. But I will not have her trying to take over my daughter. Now, Margaret, I'm sure she wasn't trying to take over her. You don't even know what's happened, but you're sure it isn't her fault. I wish someone had some loyalty like that for me. Now look, look, suppose you tell me what happened. Your mother, well, you know, Barbara has a little breaking out on her face. I ought to know. I pay the doctor bills around here. And you also know what the doctor said, that it's not at all unusual for a child her age. An endocrinic and emotional imbalance. She's supposed to outgrow it. And she almost has. So? So your mother had the gall to tell her it was caused by the lack of soap and water. Now wait a minute. Can there's not a girl in the world cleaner than Barbara? Well, that's all that's happened. All? Can I insist that you have a talk with your mother about this? I wanted to leave my daughter strictly alone. Do you understand? Well, it's pretty hard to leave the people you love strictly alone, honey. If that's the way her love works, then Barbara doesn't need any part of it. And that goes for me, too. Now are you going to have a talk with her? OK, OK. If that's what it'll take to make you happy, I'll do it. Right now? OK, right now. But I think you've probably given this whole thing more importance than it's worth. Just talk to her and tell her what I said. Yeah. Mother? Come in. I understand there's been a little excitement around here. Margaret doesn't like me very much. Oh, of course she does. Where did you ever get it? Oh, it's true. It's true. Every time I try to help, it's almost as if she resents me. Well, when you try to help Barbara, that might have a little basis, in fact. When it's cold out, and I suggest Barbara wear a coat, Margaret resents it. Why, she should resend thing like that. I don't know. But she does. Well, that's not what happened today. I'm talking about all the time. Well, let's talk about today. I understand it was about Barbara's skin condition. It'll go into acne if she doesn't keep it clean. No, it won't, Mother. We have a very good doctor who told us what to do about the problem. I've learned a few things in my lifetime, too, you know. I know you have. But Barbara's very sensitive about her looks right now, and she really is outgrowing the condition. So I wish you wouldn't mention it to her again, all right? It was only thinking of her welfare. I only told her for her own good. I think Barbara understands that. It's not Barbara that I'm really worried about right now. It's Margaret. She resents me, son. And I try so hard to make her my friend. Well, of course you do. To be a friend to her. Will you talk to her? Will you ask her to try? Just to try to like me a little? Well, I think you're just imagining things. She likes you. It isn't much for a mother to ask to spend her few remaining years with her only son. But I don't want to do that unless... Few remaining years? No, mother. No, I know. It's old heart of mine. It just doesn't work like it used to. It may be later than you think. Well, I'll have a talk with her, mother. Now, don't you worry about a thing. I had a talk with Margaret that night, and she agreed to try once more. But before two more months had gone by, things were worse instead of better. It was the night that the storm started that the situation finally came to a head. We'd both gone to bed and were sitting up reading. This thing about Indians, interesting. Oh? Says among certain of the Apaches, it was taboo for a brave to speak to his mother-in-law or a squaw to speak to the brave's mother. What is that supposed to mean? Nothing. Only maybe the Aborigines weren't so aboriginal after all. Sounds pretty smart to me. For them, it might have been all right. They were savages, uncivilized. What's so uncivilized about that? Look, we both know what this is leading up to. Why beat around the bush? Well, I just asked what was so uncivilized about it. Maybe nothing. Maybe the Apaches didn't get much upbringing. Maybe they didn't owe their parents much. Well, it says here that they got an excellent upbringing. But you're right about one thing. They didn't owe their parents much, except love and respect. And that's all we owe our parents. What you mean is you think that's all I owe my mother. You could say that. After the things she's done for me? And what things has she done for you? If you mean taking care of you, raising you, that was her job. She wasn't doing you any favor. Even if she does keep reminding you of it as if it was a favor. Margaret. Or maybe I'm wrong. Maybe that's the way it's supposed to work. Maybe I'm supposed to rub Barbara's nose in every piece of bread and jam I gave her when she came home from grammar school. Maybe I'm supposed to keep books, so I'll know how to charge her when she's old enough to pay. All right, all right. Doesn't change anything. I still think my mother is entitled to love and respect. To spend her last remaining years in congenial company. Few remaining years. You know she's got a heart condition. Does she? Margaret. I was so curious about it. I wired your father in Dayton, Ken. I got his answer today. It's in the nightstand. Just a minute. Here's his telegram. Read it. Dayton, Ohio. Her doctor here reports Emily in good physical condition, except light tendency to low blood pressure. Love, dad. Well, what? Why would you say a thing like that? I already told you. Oh, there must be another reason. What other reason could there be? Oh, well, you shut up and let me think. I want her out of this house, Ken. I want her out of this house while there's still some love left in it. And that means soon. Don't hold your breath. I thought a long time before I went to sleep that night, but I didn't arrive at any conclusions. The next day, the storm hit with our vengeance. And Margaret called me at the office. School had been let out, and since I had the car, she wanted me to pick up Barbara as soon as I could. I got there about 2.30, but because of the road conditions and the stalled cars, it was close to 5 when we got home. The house was empty, and there was only a remnant of a note on the front door. The ink was too rain smeared to read. By then, the water was too high for us to try to drive for the higher ground. So we got a few blankets and my sleeping bag, and went to the roof to wait for rescue. Hold on to my hand. Where should we go? Over there by the chimney. Gives us a little protection. Hold on to these blankets. Do you suppose, Mother, do you suppose she's all right? I mean, really. She's all right. Now, this is far enough. When we were so late getting home, she probably thought we'd hold up somewhere. Put your sleeping bag down against the brickwork there. You think we'll be all right here? Yes, I think so. Now, crawl into the sleeping bag, hmm? Now? There'll be rescue boats. We'll have to stand watches to keep from missing them. You get a little sleep. I'll take the first watch. But I'm not no least bit sleepy. Try anyway. What are you going to do? Take a little inventory. I figure the car is a total loss. The house is taking quite a beating. I want to figure out what we've got left. I sat there most of the night thinking about what I really had left. All there was was my wife and daughter. The longer I sat there gazing into the storm, the wealthier I felt. I had a treasure, and I'd almost let it slip away from me. Barbara woke up a few hours before dawn, and we talked together for a while. Then we just watched, and I thought some more. And I worried for a while about whether I'd be able to save myself and Barbara. But then I became fairly certain that it would be done for me. But rescue boats would probably pick us up as soon as it was light enough to see. After that, I began wondering how I was going to save my family, because it was in more danger than the flood waters offered. It was in danger of being ripped apart because of a divided allegiance, mine. I realized I'd have to do everything in my power to keep my family from being destroyed, no matter how hard it might be. So you're sending me home. That's the only thing I can do, mother. Can? Do you think it's possible for a person to do something without, without really being aware of what she's doing? I think so. Do you think if a person were made aware of the mistake that she might change? She might. But I wouldn't take that chance. Besides your first duty is to your own, to the person to whom you're most closely related, your husband. I'm going to see Margaret. Can. Yes, mother? Can you forgive me? Of course I forgive you. I hope you're not too disappointed. I, I am disappointed. But I think, too, that I'm really kind of proud of you. This is Nancy Gates again. It's always a pleasure for me to appear on family theater. You know, many family theater listeners have written to us to tell us that they have begun the practice of daily family prayer in their own homes. Well, it's certainly heartwarming to know that our message is being heard and followed by people all over the country. But occasionally, someone writes to tell us that prayer is not as easy as it sounds, that it is difficult to pray. Well, I'd like to read a little poem that may be of help to you if you feel that way, too. It was written by James J. Medcalf. And it's called Time to Pray. It is not difficult to pray when we are faced with fears or when the shadows climb the walls and tragedy appears. Our voices rise above the roar of every raging sea and words of sudden eloquence present our tearful plea. But when there is no storm and when we have a perfect day, we seldom turn our thoughts to God or take the time to pray. And if it is a duty then, it also is a task to thank Him or to let Him know the miracles we ask. And yet a daily prayer to God is such a little thing compared to all the comfort and the blessings it can bring. Thank you for being with us. And remember, the family that prays together stays together. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of. Hollywood Family Theater has brought you transcribed The Quiet War, starring Robert Rockwell. Nancy Gates was your hostess. Others in our cast were Gayan Kelly, Virginia Greg, Barbara Fuller, and Michael Hayes. The script was written and directed for Family Theater by Robert Hugh O'Sullivan, with music composed and conducted by Harry Zimmerman. This series of Family Theater broadcasts is made possible by the thousands of you who feel the need for this type of program, by the mutual network which has responded to this need, and by the hundreds of stars of stage screen and radio who give so unselfishly of their time and talent to appear on our Family Theater stage. To them and to you, our humble thanks. This is Tony LaFranco expressing the wish of Family Theater that the blessing of God may be upon you and your home and inviting you to join us next week when Family Theater will present. Invasion, starring Frank Lovejoy, Chuck Connors will be your host. Join us, won't you? Family Theater has broadcast throughout the world and originates in the Hollywood studios of the world's largest network. This is Mutual, the radio network for all America.