 The cavalcade of America sponsored by DuPont, makers of better things for better living through chemistry, presents Brian Donlevy in Navy Doctor. Many of DuPont's better things for better living serve us in ways of which some of us are completely unaware. A chemical compound known as titanium dioxide, improved in DuPont laboratories as a pigment for paint, is used to make more opaque the thin paper such as that used in air mail stationery and in bibles. And one of titanium's many war jobs is its use in paints which provide protective and camouflage coatings for military installations and equipment. Tonight with Brian Donlevy as its star, cavalcade tells the story of one day in the life of a Navy doctor. His official title is Medical Officer, but to the men on his ship who spoke of him with deep affection as dock or surge, he holds a special and hallowed place. Even in peacetime his is no simple medical post, but in war with shells bursting overhead and fire raging in the holes, the Navy doctor's coolness and courage have made him time and again one of the true heroes of our era. Our radio play written especially for cavalcade by Paul Peters is based on the experiences of Commander Charles F. Flower of the Astoria and stars Brian Donlevy. 17 years ago, Dr. Charles F. Flower came out of the University of California Medical School and hung his shingle on a battleship. The months after Pearl Harbor, Dr. Flower was Medical Officer on the Astoria, a 10,000 ton heavy cruiser attached to the Pacific Fleet. Then suddenly one day, he sat hunched over a table in a strange cabin on a strange ship, writing a letter home. My dear wife, you know as well as I do dear that I'm not very good at this. Somehow my fingers are always clumsy with a pen. Give them a hypodermic needle or a scalpel and right away they feel at home. But you beg me so often to write to you about what you call my exciting life at sea that I'm snatching a minute after a pretty crowded day to drop you a line. I've got my eyes just now darling. I guess I feel the need of talking to you, of being close to you. The day began with an operation under somewhat trying circumstances when our ship was undergoing an operation under somewhat trying circumstances. That's what he wrote his wife. Here's what really happened. The date was August 8. The ship was slipping silently through enemy waters, screening the landing of Marines until Lagi Island. At 10.30 a.m. Raymond A. Willis, pharmacist's mate first class, knocked on the medical officer's door. Dr. Flower. Oh, come in, Willis. There's a man in the sick bay I think you ought to look at, sir. Oh, who is it? Cutler, Bill Cutler, gunner's mate first class. Well, what's the matter with him? Stomach, I think. Run the temperature. Looks pretty sick to me, doctor. Well, Willis, we'll see Cutler. Yes, sir. Cutler, what's the trouble? Well, sir, it's like a stitch in my side. It almost takes my breath away every time I bend. Let me see. Is this the place? Yes, yes. Excuse me, sir. Yes, sir, that hurts. Mm-hmm. You've been feeling bad long, Cutler? Well, since yesterday morning, sir. Now, sir, after meals? Well, to tell the truth, doctor, I haven't felt much like eating. And when a sailor can't eat, he must be pretty sick, huh, Cutler? Well, it's nothing serious, is it, doctor? Well, the sooner you have it out, boy, the better. Yeah, that's it. I have one out. Acute appendicitis, Cutler. Calls for an operation. Oh, an operation? Now, sir? Now. Right away. Doctor, I gotta be at my battle station. You're going to bed, Cutler. Take your clothes off. Go on. Strip. Shucks, doctor. I'll miss everything. Well, think of the nice long rest you'll have afterwards. Two weeks in the sick bay with nothing to do but eat and smoke. Uh, Willis. Yes, sir? Get this man ready for the operating table, Willis. What kind of anesthetic, doctor? Spinal. Tell my assistant, Dr. Brown, to administrate. I'll be right in. Uh-uh. What's this? General Quarters. General Quarters. Man will hear the aircraft station. Well, excuse me, doctor. I'll see you later. Cutler, Cutler, you come back here. What, doctor? I've got to get to my battery. You go to the operating room and take your clothes off. Oh, I can't miss this show, doctor. You're under my orders now, Cutler. Well, I've never seen one before. Oh. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll leave the loudspeaker on. You'll be under spinal anesthetic so you can hear everything anyway. Now, come on. Off with that uniform. Yes, sir. Operator? Yes, sir? Captain Greenman on the bridge, please. This is Dr. Flower in sick bait. What's up, Captain? Captain, I have a gun that's made here with a gangrenous appendix. Can I operate? I can't wait, Captain. If that appendix bursts, then operate. Brown's our patient already? Yes, sir. Pre-operative and spinal administered. Right. Now, Cutler, let's see. You feel anything down here now? No. No, not a thing, doctor. It's just kind of drowsy. Like floating in air. I felt this way once when I was a kid and smoked a reefer. A reefer? Only one, doctor. A trombone player I knew in Chicago. Scalpel? Yes, sir. You won't tell on me, will you, doctor? Man of Marines and dive on this side of the stop. Man of battled stations. Hemistat, here you are, sir. You know, doctor, I was just thinking. Catch that Spurter, will you, Brown? Yes, sir. Now, look, if the ship gets hit with all those hatches secured, how do we get out of here? We'll get you out of here. Scissors? Scissors, sir. Here they come. Batteries, topside, boat and an app. Get your altitude. Yes, sir. That sounds like my battery. Here, you lie down. Oh, doctor, take it easy, cutler. Take it easy. But I gotta get out of here. How do you expect the doctor to do good, Taylor, when you're squirming around like that? There goes one of those deposits. Well done, battery one. Well done. It is my battery. It is. There goes another. It's exploding. Brown, give me a tie. Here you are, sir. If those bombs don't get me that knife, will. There goes another. And another. Need any help, sir? No, no, thank you, Brown. I'm just waiting for that vibration to stop. The destroyer, Javas, has been hit of its ship by a torpedo. She's on fire. The magazines are exploding. Hey, doctor, they got the Javas. We're crying out loud, at least, still, will you? Needle holder. There you are, sir. They're going over side. A crew is going over side. No, it's sinking, doctor. The Javas is sinking. Suit your. Yes, sir. Wait for my carriers. Oh, I can't stand this anymore. Let me out of here. Let me out of here. Hold them, Willis. I got him. They're knocking them out of the sky. Hey, look at those chaps. I'm telling him to hold them. There you are, Cutler. It's all finished. Well, Cutler, my lad, in two weeks you'll be as good as new. Phew. Hey, Willis, open the hatches and start those air blowers going, will you? I'm dripping wet. He wrote his wife that it was an operation performed under somewhat trying circumstances. And as he remembered the events of that fateful day, he told her other things. Well, dear, you'll be pleased to know that we weren't hit at all. As for casualties, all we could dig up was three fractured big toes among the ammunition handlers. It seems that in the excitement of their first baptism under fire, some of them foolishly dropped shells on their own feet. Of course, we had the survivors from the Javas to take care of, and that was... Of course, we had the survivors from the Javas. 100 men packed between decks in wardrooms and galleys. Sick bay crammed with fractures, burns and wounds. All day long and late into the night. No rest for the navy doctor. At 1 a.m. Well, you must be kind of pooped, Doc. Why don't you knock off and catch some sleep? I can't sleep. Now, Brown, how's our man, Cutler? Always sleeping like that. How's our man, Cutler? Always sleeping like a baby, sir. We got him loaded with morphine. Why can't you sleep? I don't know. A hunch. I've got a hunch. You always have hunches, sir. You're famous for them. I've been in the Navy 17 years, Brown. I've got so that I can smell trouble. Smell it miles away. Oh, this is a trouble hunch, isn't it? Yeah. Brown, the Japs are coming back. They've spotted us, and they're coming back. Dog, go on, get some sleep, Doc. You're dead on your feet, those men. Those poor devils from the Jarvis. What have you got an assistant for? Let me take care of them. I don't like this. It's too dark tonight. And too quiet. Oh, come on, sir. Why don't you lie down in your bunk for a while? Well, I got casualties bedded down there. Well, and Mike have them. Please, Doc, be sensible. All right. But I don't like it. It's too quiet. In his letter home, he wrote about this, too. This is what he said. You know me, dear, how cross I am when I don't get sleep at night, so it was a good thing in view of what subsequently happened that I caught sufficient rest for later on when I was... Sufficient rest. It was 1.30 when he went to sleep. It was an hour and a half later when an end came to the quiet and sufficient rest. What? What's that? Oh, so they did come back. Operator. Operator, the bridge. Give me the bridge. Where's Dr. Brown? Here, sir. All corpsmen present. Take two men and man the after battle station. Very well, sir. Gomez, Couch, come with me. Yes, sir. You three. Join the repair parties. This is a side and aft. You two, decontamination stations. Yes, sir. Now, men, for most of you, this is your first surface engagement. This is what your training as hospital corpsmen has prepared you for. You all know your duties. Until the fighting is over, we'll be locked up down here. So steal yourselves to hang on and take it. It sounds easy, but it won't be. I can promise you that. However, I have a hunch that I want afterwards. Now, since the intercommunication system and the loudspeaker are dead, you must rely entirely on my orders. Any questions? Suppose we get a shell hit below deck, sir. We may have to abandon the sick bay. In that case, we'll put the casualties and zipper stretches and take them up to the ward room. One thing more. The ammunition handling parties are passing five-inch shells right outside this door. For your health and theirs, keep out of the way. All clear? Yes, sir. Now lie down. Conserve your energy. All right? Face down, everybody. Listen to that. We're sure taking opponent. Yeah. They must have sneaked up the whole Jap fleet on us. I bet they're catching it topside. I'm here. They opened that door and let the smoke out. Smokes coming in from the ammunition handling room, sir. The sick bay doors blown off its hinges. Get those battery lamps going, will you? Hey, Wagner, Becker, light the battery lamp. Where do we find them first? That shell must have blown everything right through the bulkhead. Yeah, wait a minute. Here's one. That's better. All right. Who's missing? Where's Palmer and Morrow? Here they are. Both of them, doctor. Gone? Looks like it. That piece of shell must have... Cover them up. What about that ammunition handling party outside? Shell hit right in the middle of them, doc. Your treatment room, dental office, the pharmacy, all smashed to pieces. Nothing but a heap of junk out there. Wait a minute. Somebody's still alive. Willis, check every one of those men. Wagner, you come with me. We'll go through the sick bay occupants. Hey, doc, here's the ship. Relax, now, Cutler, you relax. You've missed it twice. You're getting the big shell proof. It's a miracle, doctor. But the sick ones are all okay. A real miracle. One of those ammunition boys missed it, sir. And he's just plastered with wounds and flash burns. All right, bring him in here. Get him right over here on this bunk. Yes, sir. More fiends, sir. Wagner, panic acid jelly. Here, sir. Now this won't hurt so much. There we are. In a minute, now the pain will stop. Take his uniform off. You better cut it off. Go on, go on. The painless is slipping off a glove. Now you're fenced, boy. Can you lift the other leg? Oh, dry. Dry. Hey, watch out. There's $40 in those pants. He'll get well. You're listening to Brian Donlevy and Navy Doctor on the Cavalcade of America sponsored by Dupont. Maker of better things for better living through chemistry. As our play continues, Dr. Charles F. Flower played by Mr. Donlevy is medical officer aboard the Astoria, a heavy cruiser which screened the landing of Marines on to Loggy Island. When his sick bay is struck by a Jap shell, Dr. Flower tries to move his casualties to the ward room, but fire drives him through hatches and up ladders to the main deck. Dr. Flower, is that Dr. Flower? Yes, we had to abandon the sick bay, Captain. Direct hit in the ammunition handling room beside us. Well, thank God you're safe, Doctor. We need you. Look at all these wounded. Yes, sir. Where's my assistant, Captain? Did Brown come up from the afterdressing station? Cut off by fire in the stern. Must be 50 men down there. We've got to repair crew trying to reach them. You firefight it. Never mind the bridge. Let it burn. Get below and flood the lower magazine. Aye, sir. You'll have to find shelter somewhere, Doctor. Try the bosson's locker. One question, Captain. How bad are we hit, sir? Where it hurts, Doctor, down to the bone. Forward engine room knocked out. Stern shut up. The ammunition ready box is exploding. Fire is spreading to the magazine. They must have pumped a hundred shells into us. And if that lower magazine goes up... It'll blow the bottom out of the ship. Yeah. Well, the Japs are gone, I see, Captain. You certainly must have given them a belly full. At least we kept them off our transports at Tulagi. Captain, do you think... Do you think we'll have to abandon ships, sir? She's still on an even keel. We'll make a fight for her. We'll make a fight for her. Working with flashlights. Dodging the explosion of ammunition ready boxes. Gathering up the casualties. Hurry, hurry. Hear a shot of morphine. Hear a burn dressing. They're a bandage or a splint. But that isn't the way Dr. Flower described it in his letter home. I won't describe the next half hour, till you, dear. Just routine duty, caring for the wounded who are lying all over the deck. Dr. Flower? I've been looking for you yet. Oh, who is it? Chief radio man. You got it bad? Won't make it. Wouldn't let me do anything for him. Kept saying, it's no use, Doc. You're wasting your time. Maybe he's lucky. I won't take that from you, not from you. Not even with a lifeboat shot to pieces and the magazine's going up any minute? Scuttle, but the skipper's going to flood them. You mean he's trying to? Yes, sir. Those men in the captain's cabin, sir. I think we'll have to move. The serious cases. The heat's coming through the deck from the war room fire below. We can't put them out in the open. No, sir, not in this weather. All right. Put them under the overhang of number two turret. Get blankets from the living compartments. Right, sir. No, no, Willis, wait a minute. There's something else I want you to do. Yes, doctor. We're running out of supplies. You want me to get some for you? You think you can make it to the sick base, Sailor? Down through the fire and you know about the magazine's course? I'll make it. If you can't get back through the hatch to the war room, try climbing up through number two turret. I'll get back. First, I need morphine and dressings and all the sulfatanic acid and iodine that you can carry. I'll fill up a sea bag for you. Good luck, lad. Fires beyond control. Crews exhausted. Medical supplies depleted. And in the glare of the burning bridge, the Navy doctor coolly treats the captain for burns on face and hands. There you are, captain. That'll have to hold you for a while. In the morning, I'll try and make you a dressing, sir. In the morning, eh? No luck with the magazine's, captain? Some of them. But not the lower ones, sir? I don't know yet. You've done a great job, doctor. If we come out of this, I hope you're on my ship again. Thank you, sir. We'll come out of it, captain. One of your, uh, hunches, huh? Yes, sir. One of my hunches. Captain Greenman. Captain Greenman. We can't make it, sir. Try again. We've tried everything, sir. It's no good. It won't work. Lieutenant, your commander of the firefighters. Get down to that lower magazine. But there's nothing to work with, sir. Power's gone. No pressure on the water makes. Use hand pumps. Hand pumps, we can't get near enough. Can't get near enough. It's the fire, captain. Don't you understand? It's a matter of minutes now. It's true, but they're human. They can't perform miracles, captain. Give order to abandon ship. Yes, sir. Put all stores you can aboard the life rafts. Every man has five minutes to get his belongings. Very well, sir. Then call your firefighters off the magazines. Get them through to that party trapped in the stone. That's one miracle we will perform, sir. Oh, wait a minute, Lieutenant. My pharmacist, mate, Willis, he's down in the sick bay. Willis? Yes. He just came up with a bag full of medicine. They're bringing him to. What? All hands, stand by to abandon ship. Prepare for light, friend. You're right, doctor. Some miracles nobody can perform. Captain Graydon, sighted a ship, captain. Where? Brought to the starboard beam, sir. No lights on her? No, sir. Isn't that one of our destroyers, captain? Well, she's maneuvering to come alongside. Siggleman! Siggleman! Yes, sir. Use your flashlight. Tell her to identify herself. The Bagley. It's the Bagley. Our skipper used to be my chief engineer. What's she flossing now, Siggleman? Alongside bow. Take off, survivor. Yes, sir. Listen to those men yell. You'd think that that little tin can was the prettiest sight in the world. I bet there's going to be some celebration when this crew gets to port, captain. One of your hunches, doc? Yes, skipper. One of my hunches. And so, my dear, that's all there is to write about now. At 5.30 after the Men in the Stern had been released, dark transfer was completed. At 6, the lower magazine went up and blew the bottom out of the old USS Astoria. And that, darling, was the end of my day. Now I think I will take everybody's advice. I'm going to lie down and rest a while. Your devoted husband, Charles. That's what the doctor wrote to his wife. But the fact is, in the crowded sick bay of the Bagley, this Navy doctor's work began all over again. Q. Brian Donlevy. In presenting tonight's play, DuPont is honored to pay tribute to the valiant officers and men of the Medical Corps of the United States Navy. Mr. Donlevy will return to the microphone in a few moments. Meanwhile, here is Clayton Collier, speaking in behalf of DuPont to tell you how chemistry transforms such a common materialist salt into potent instruments of war. Salt comes from the Latin word, celerium. Celerium meant salt money, the part of a Roman soldier's wages he was paid in salt. Salt goes to an American soldier, although he may not realize it, as part of his armament. In a DuPont plant at Niagara Falls, salt is melted by heat generated from electricity. This molten salt is electrolyzed, that is broken down by the electricity into its elements, sodium and chlorine. From these materials, one is silvery metal and the other a greenish-yellow gas, dozens of compounds are produced which have a bearing on the war. Tetraethyl lead, an important ingredient of high-octane gasoline, is made from compounds derived from both sodium and chlorine. The gears in a tank or truck or the prime mover that drags a heavy gun must stand almost unbelievable punishment. So they are given surfaces so hard that not even a file will scratch them. The hardening is done with sodium cyanide, another compound made from salt. The valves of a combat airplane engine would grow so hot they would melt if the tremendous heat generated by the motor were not carried away. This dangerous heat is controlled in many planes by making the valves hollow and filling them with sodium. The sodium melts and transfers the dangerous heat away from the valve head. From salt, modern chemistry also produces textile bleaches and dyes for uniforms, pharmaceutical chemicals used by army and navy doctors, non-flammable solvents to remove the grease from metals, electroplating chemicals and scores of other compounds. The white crystals you use on your dining room table, of which the United States has enough in Michigan alone to last for millions of years, are transformed by the chemist into supplies and equipment for our troops on the fighting fronts. Common salt, thanks to electrochemistry, yields these wartime adaptations of better things for better living through chemistry. And here is Brian Donlevy, star of this evening's cavalcade. Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen. Because the Christmas season is approaching and because our play tonight was about doctors, I want to tell you a little story of something which happened in Wilmington, Delaware in 1907, 36 years ago, tomorrow. Something which has meant the difference between life and death to untold thousands of people. That day, a valiant, resourceful woman sold the first Christmas seals, designed by herself and run off by a local printer to raise funds to support Wilmington's small tuberculosis sanatorium. $3,000 worth were sold. That was the beginning of the Christmas seal sale in America. Since then, sales have amounted through the years to $123 million. This money spent for hospitalization, treatment, research, and education has brought tuberculosis down from the first cause of death in this country to the seventh. You have done this with your purchase of Christmas seals each year. And I know that this year, too, you will not fail. Thank you very much. From Wilmington, Delaware, birthplace of the Christmas seal, you pond is proud to salute Miss Emily Bissell, who designed and sold the first Christmas seal. This year of all years, buy Christmas seals, use them generously. In the bleak, desolate, arctic outpost where they serve, they call themselves the FBI, Forgotten Babes of Iceland. Next week, Cavalcade stars Glamorous Rita Hayworth in the role of a Red Cross recreation worker in Iceland. Our play, Check Your Heart at Home, is a bright romantic comedy with music based on Jane Goodell's bestseller, They Sent Me to Iceland. Dupont invites you to join Cavalcade's audience next Monday evening when it stars Rita Hayworth in Check Your Heart at Home. The orchestra and musical score tonight were under the direction of Donald Voorhees. Cavalcade is pleased to advise its listeners that Brian Donlevy may soon be seen in the new Metro-Goldenmayer Technicolor production, America. This is Carl Franks sending best wishes from Cavalcade's sponsor, the Dupont Company of Wilmington, Delaware. This is the national broadcasting company.