 of the United Press, reporting to you from a 9th Air Force fighter base somewhere on the western front. Today I want to tell you about heroes and a guy. Now heroes around air bases wear wings as a rule. But here at this air base there is one hero who never flew a plane. His name? R.D. Hendrickson, Mr. Cronkai. I come from a pretty little town in Missouri. We call it Pleasant Hill. Yes, Pleasant Hill. Those were the days. But just call me R.D., Mr. Everybody around here. Yes, everybody around here knows R.D. and that's what we call him. A 26-year-old kid from Pleasant Hill, Missouri. A grease monkey. A mustang nurse. Take a good look at him. His coveralls are stained with oil. His fingernails are dirty. His thatch of blonde hair that'll never stay combed. Yeah, yeah. Did you say R.D.? Sure. I know that little toe-headed grease monkey. He wants to be a pilot. Stands off and listen to us shoot the breeze after a flight. Funny little guy. Go easy on him, Lieutenant. R.D.'s all right and a good mechanic. He may have had an unfortunate brush with a major, but hell, I could have many of us. Ask the major. He'll tell you the same thing. Uh-huh. What's that, Captain? What's that? R.D.? Do I know him? How can I ever forget that little grease monkey? Oh, of course it was an accident. Could happen to anybody. But why did it have to happen to me? Sergeant? Sergeant Mulvaney? Sergeant. Well, that should give you a pretty good idea of R.D., the Missouri grease monkey. One of the best mechanics in the business, but a funny little guy in trouble more often than not. And not the kind of guy you write stories about. Stories are written about heroes. But today it's different. It's... well, let me tell you what happened. Hey, R.D. Hiya, Sergeant. What's up? Look, how about policing up this place? The major's coming. What's that? Stop that hammering. Get this shop cleaned up before the major gets here for inspection. Okay. What time is he coming? What's that? I said, what time is he coming? That's what I'm going to find out. I, for heaven's sake, R.D., will you stop that confounded hammer with this one oil drum? Hey, Sergeant, hurry it up. The major's coming now. Flawed the major coming, Sergeant? Looks neat from the outside. Wait, you see the inside, sir. Hey, Sergeant. What was that? Oh, just one of the grease monkeys inside getting everything ready for you, sir. Oh, fine. Fine. Well, let's have a look. Right this way, sir. A little dark inside. Careful when you step down. Please, sir. Major, don't come in. The oil drum. Step aside, son. I've just come to look. Look out. Here, let me help you up, sir. I warned him, sir. The oil drum turned over and the oil... The oil. Get me out of this mess, Sergeant. Ah, yes, sir. Let me help you. Get away from me. You will answer for this, Sergeant. You will answer for this. You already got one strike on you. The major didn't like falling in that oil at all. Ah, if you weren't one of the best mechanics on the field, I'd put you right back into KP. I tried to warn him. Ah, shut up. One more like that and you're gonna be in real trouble. What, sir? You understand? Yes, sir. Yeah, what is it? Boy, we certainly dusted them off yesterday, huh? Yeah, the boys did it all right. How many was it? Forty-two shot down. Boy, that must have been a battle. You know, I wonder what it's like to be up there with hot steel smacking at you from all directions. Someday I'm gonna... You're gonna what? You're a grease monkey, R.D., remember? Yeah, but you can't shoot a guy for dreaming. No. No, but I can put you on KP for dreaming. Finish that job on that bad flipper. Finish it, I said. Just about through. Then we'll be all set to give them crouts another round of hell in high water. Ah, don't be too sure. They won't pay us a retired visit. Oh, after what happened yesterday? Nah, they haven't got enough planes. How do you know? Say, aren't you true with that flipper yet? Yeah, yeah, all true. Well, come on, let's take a look at that Mustang on the runway. Then the boys will wheel out the rest. There ain't no one with the bump throttle. Yeah, Lieutenant Crane's job. Yeah, that's the one. Come on. Take a good look at it. But remember, no fooling around. Okay, Sarge, give me a hand, will you? Here you go. How's it look? That does it. Yeah, sure. That plane don't leave the field today unless it's in top shape. Sure, I'm sure. Look. Sorry, I didn't think. Yeah, yeah, you didn't think. You didn't think. When do you ever think? Get out of that. Sure, Sarge. Now listen, let me explain. That's the last straw, Adi. Now you are going to go on KP. Oh, sorry. Shut up. Get your grease monkeys. Wheel those Mustangs out. Okay, Sarge. Watch the runways, Joe. Ah, Adi, give me a hand. Sure, Sarge. Here you go. Pete's safe. Watch what you're doing. Sarge. Okay. Take cover down here. Take it. We'll never make it. Messerschmitts roared over the field, their machine guns blazing, bullets kicking up dirt and snow, metals screaming through the air. But the little Missouri grease monkey, oblivious to the danger, dragged his wounded sergeant safely to cover. And even then, he wasn't through being a hero. Take it easy, Sarge. He'll be all right. Of all the pig-headed, stubborn fools, you took an awful chance out there, Adi. Put your life out there. Hey, you hear that? Yeah, somebody's out there. Yeah, let me take a look. Hey, it's Joe. Joe. Sit tight, Sarge. I'll be back. Hey, Adi. Come back here. Come back here, fool. Come back. Officers and the enlisted men watching R.D. thought he was crazy. They yelled warnings for him to get back to cover. But the grease monkey's ears seemed to be strained for other sounds. And as we watched him out there, he's making it. Come on. Come on, boys. Come on. Come on, you crazy grease monkey. Come on, kid. Come on. Sure. Sure, man. I know. I know. Just a little more, Joe. Hey, Sarge, can you give me a hand? Yeah. Yeah, sure. Push it toward me. Yeah. In you go, Joe. Yes, the Sarge and Joe both made it, thanks to R.D. the grease monkey from Pleasant Hill, Missouri. The funny little guy who was always getting into trouble. But the night after the raid, it was a different story. I tell you, gentlemen, what that boy did today is the highest example of courage I've ever witnessed. I certainly had that guy all wrong. He's OK. Say, Major, how are Joe and the Sarge coming along? Oh, fine, Captain. Fine. Hey, where is this R.D., this grease monkey? Seems that I've met him before somewhere. You have, Major. He's the guy who spilled the oil. Oh, him? Of course. Of course, the oil. I seem to recall falling into it. Say, where is our hero? Let's go get him. Oh, what are we waiting for? Come on. Captain and the Lieutenant met R.D. coming out of the hospital, where he had called on Joe and the Sarge. Ah, marvelous piece of work today, R.D. Splendid. Splendid. Thank you, sir. You were right in there, R.D.. Put her there, son. Tell me, R.D., what is your name, anyway? Well, folks back home, sir. I've been calling the R.D. ever since I could remember. What's the matter, R.D.? Have you got one of those first names? Well, uh, uh, Captain, it's, uh, Royale. Well, well, Royale. Well, son, from now on, you're Royale around here. You understand? Ah, Royale, my foot. He's R.D. to me. Just R.D., the best damn grease monkey in the business. You have just heard Walter Cronkite's heartwarming story of the grease monkey, the saga of a hero who never flew a plane. Cronkite, like other United Press correspondents, was on the scene of battle, ready to tell the world what happened. His story about the grease monkey is just another example of the on-the-spot alertness of the men of UP, the soldiers of the press. So look for United Press Dispatches in your favorite newspaper. Listen for United Press Dispatches on your radio. 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