THUNDERHEADS OVER THE PACIFIC

[Music] softer and tyranny that abounded for centuries. It raises its eyes across the Pacific toward America. For the Democratic Orients survives, it must have America's help patterned after the American kind of pure democracy. American farm machinery and the American way form the back. America gives these farming methods so vital for progress to the Far East. With these America so important to the survival of the new spirit in the Orient Europe a flame, London bombs, war in the Balkans, war in Africa. But look to the Pacific. Send a man into Asia. But who? Brady. Brady's the man who got the world scoop at the beginning of the war. Remember those ship thinking scenes? Well, I won't soon forget the horror of that first ship sinking in the North Atlantic. We were heading home from Bordeaux. About sundown on the third day at sea, our ship picked up a frantic SS signal, submarine attack. We changed our course to do south and there on the horizon, slowly settling in the water was the badly hit British freighter Manderlay. As thousands of tons of salt water poured into her hull, her back broke and she jack knifed and sunk before our eyes. I tell you, it's a horrible feeling to be so close and yet so helpless. If we'd only been a few minutes sooner, we might have saved them all. As it was, we worked desperately all night long and saved some 300 lives. But over 100 were missing. With my pal Bob Dart, I started out to fill this new assignment in the Far East. We didn't leave on a poleman. We wanted to get our hands of people of this world, the people who die in these wars. We wanted to talk with them, eat with them, sometimes work with them, to sit with them in their grog shops and cabarets, to go with them into their homes and their temples. To accomplish this assignment, we knew we must work our way. We laid our course to America's farthest outpost in the Pacific, Manila in the Philippines, the land of curious contrast, where the water buffalo and the motorc car move side by side on the main streets. Where strange customs and superstition still hold their heads above the modernization of American influence. Notice the Nepon Bazaar, a thriving Japanese department store. Evidence of Japanese infiltration into the Philippines. We interviewed the chief officials of the islands, Native and American. With interpreters and a guide given us by the government, we arranged to visit a native village. This is a fishing village, one of the principal industries and main sources of food for the natives. Note the theme of Americanization on the billboard. It's the rainy season. Those thatched roofs, primitive as they seem, provide an ample shelter against the heat of the summer and the downpour of rains. Here we found primitive farming methods. Those water buffalo were plowing the mud of rice patties. Here in the Philippines, as everywhere else in the Far East, rice is the staff of life. In 1898, Admiral Dwey destroyed the Spanish fleet in Manila Harbor. These steel carcasses sunk in the harbor mud are all that is now left of a past imperialism that was overthrown and wrecked by the ideals of democracy. When a Filipino weds his bride's father presents the house, the boy gets his pals and moves the house to his land on their shoulders. It's usually a festive occasion with rice wine flowing freely. [Music] Here [Music] under the stars and stripes, we found a typical example of American ways that have pushed into the jungle. This is the splendid Manila Hotel, its swimming pool, and its spacious garden. [Music] The stream of life at such a hotel on the crossroads of the world is colorful beyond the dream of a Hollywood studio. Another day on board ship and we are plowing the China Sea toward Hong Kong. On board is an interesting lot of emissaries of American business, foreign diplomats and whose lives and work are a question mark in a waring world. We presented our credentials to the officials of the excellent American president line for to travel in a wartorrn world is no easy matter. Special visas and passports are necessary. It certainly was no luxury cruise. We had only one girl on board. She was the daughter of a Chinese statesman. On our forward deck was a pool refreshing on the hot tropical afternoons. [Music] We were suddenly shocked into the reality of the thunderheads over the Pacific for daily life boat drills were strictly adhered to so that we would be prepared for any emergency. Modern warfare doesn't come alone to the men in the trenches, but to little babies as well. [Music] Several days in the China Sea brings us to Hong Kong, the British Citadel in southern China. As we enter the harbor, we cautiously shoot with our cameras through the port hole at the imposing rock cliffs which hide the secretly guarded long range naval guns always on the alert. If you look closely, you can see a rifle on the crest of that hill. [Music] Dug into the solid repair depot. There are submarines strung about the harbor entrance, and a special pilot has been brought aboard to see us through these minefilled waters. A British man of war mine layer is always there to tend the mines and submarine boom. [Music] A British wireless keeps Hong Kong in touch with the rest of the empire. As we approach the Colon docks across the bay, we see the well-known city of Hong, the halfmile high rock that is the island of Hong Kong. We catch our first glimpses of the familiar Sam Pam. A large part of the native population living an entire lifetime on these 10 tiny tenementss of the sea. Sharks shun Hong Kong Harbor because the native divers and sampments catch every piece of food that is thrown into the water. A hungry shark would starve. A kid dies with his little brother on his shoulders for a dime. Famous the world over is an old blind China called Sam Pam Sam who sells canaries. Compared to the Sam Pam tenement dwellers, he is a capitalist. Life aboard Sam Pam Sam Pam is a colorful hodgepodge of mother darning trousers. Daughter cooking a meal. Grandma hanging out the wash. We made a deal with Sam Pam Sam to buy a canary. Cargo boats formerly carrying on a profitable trade now ply the harbor with empty decks due to the pressure of the invaders. Note how the women work side by side with the men. [Music] Here is a diver surveying the harbor for new defense docks. [Music] No sooner has the ship made terrific sun be impossible for our white crew. You see, Hong Kong is only a few hundred miles north of the equator. [Music] With the thrill that comes from every venture, we went ashore to wander our bala streets to show the incredible spa. unexplainable beauty of the oran. Because of the lack of machines and the American way, we found men doing the more heavy labor that in modern countries is done by machinery. Even a dead fish is a prized possession to a hungry man. That is a Chinese temple. Those long strings of extracted teeth are the oriental interpretation of American advertising. You see, this is a Chinese dentist shop at the side of the street. A public letter writer writes a letter for a woman in the south of China to a relative in the north of China who speaks a different dialect. If Shang Kai-shek and his followers have their way, at the end of this war, the entire country will speak the same language, Mandarin. This little shaver gets a close shave because it helps relieve the insect problem. the flower market. In the poverty of their warstricken country, the Chinese still find a place in their lives for beauty. They eat when and where they can on numerous traveling sidewalk restaurants of boiled soya beans can be bought for a fraction of a cent. An oriental soda jerk, a rare delicacy for this little fellow. Shaved ice sprinkled with refugees from the invaded interior of China live and die in the only home they know, the canopied streets of the native quarter. We drove into the country to seek the little people to further learn their thoughts and problems. Off in the distance is one of the main bays surrounding the island fortress. And soon we see thousands of refugees and shacks and spam pans who have fled the rule of the invader to live under the protective guns of the British Empire. [Music] [Music] At the foot of a cliff, we found a refugee camp. They eke out a scanty living from their threadbear surroundings. We stopped and interviewed in pigeon English some of these refugees. You know, you have to be strong to live in this warridden world. The sword of fate hangs heavily over everyone's head. The little people of China have long since learned that the secret of survival is to help each other. He ain't heavy. He's my brother. Out to sea again. As we sail southward toward the equator, our captain finds we are skirting the coast of Indochina and are nearing Singapore. A foroding red sunset forecasts our tomorrow's entrance into a city already touched with war. Singapore street scenes with all the color and fascination that has jammed into these crossroads of the oran. Long famed in song and story Then we pass camera shy kitties out through the suburbs onto the road that runs to the edge of the harbor when suddenly we see British tanks in front of it. Here along the shore, well protected with barbwire entanglements and landmines, are many camouflaged pill boxes. A vicious reception prepared for any landing party of an invader. [Music] There were in intricate trench systems already completed at strategic points on main highways. [Music] A few rods behind these firm fortifications are luxurious homes such as this showplace of oriental art and beauty. [Music] The craftsmanship of this glass dragon is a secret art handed down from father to son. Elephants are a good luck symbol, especially for Bob and me. For our luck was to escort a young Chinese movie actress through the garden. She dances in a renowned nightclub of the Far East, the Happy World Limited. And on her invitation, we came to see her dance. But first, we saw native Malayans dancing to the weird music of the jungle. A strange dance in which neither person dares touch his partner. [Music] Little Butterfly, that was her name, introduced us to a Chinese opera star. To an American, his pantomime is as much a question mark as his music. A cobra snake charmer with a venomous, vicious snake and a sarong peddler. We liked it so well at the Happy World Limited that we wanted to see more. And so I got a job as master of ceremonies. At Master of Ceremonies, Bob and I produced an oriental beauty contest. And here you see the lovely contestants. [Music] Contrasting the weird native dances of the jungles of Malaya, we conducted an all-American rug cutting jitterbug contest. You know, here we found as everywhere else in the world, the little people don't want to die. They want to live, laugh, sing, and dance. It was no easy matter for us to select the winner from this bevy of oriental flowers. Finally, we presented her to the audience of hilarious British tomies and smoldering oriental beauties. To the north of Clay and Sultenate of Jorah, we went to visit the crown prince of Jehor. Here again, we met the inevitable boundary and custom red tape. But finally at the end of a rocky road, Prince and his young corers waited on the balcony of his summer palace to welcome us. Here is the crown prince with his little princess. Tungo Makota, that was the crown prince's name. Took us into the depths of the jungle to swim in his royal swimming hole at the foot of a waterfall. What a treat deep in the steaming tropics to slip into these cool crystal waters. All about are the noises and smells of the mystic virgin jungle. Ah, that was a day to remember. 500 miles below the equator to the south of Singapore lies the capital city of the Dutch East Indies, Betavia. As elsewhere in the far east, the little winding streets and the canals seem to be the main artery of native life. They drink the water from the canals wash in it and the kids play in it. Wash day for these little brown women is a great event. They're just like their spite sisters elsewhere in the world. They welcome a chance for a bit of friendly gossip. Mrs. Wing Lip tells the news of Mrs. Hotchaw's scandalously short sarong. While the mothers gossip, their kids have a splashing good time in the canal. Further along the canal are open air markets and eating places. But above the color and apparent peace of this native life, the evil omen of war raises its vicious head. We found a familiar sight. Air raid shelters. The vast richness of the Indies has been known and envied ever since Columbus set out to find them and discovered America instead. And now with the thunderheads in the far east rumbling at the doors of Java because of its wealth, it is preparing to defend itself. Colonial troops are an everpresent sight in the streets of Betavia. These colonials are tough, hardf fighting natives. Some of them former head hunters now disciplined and equipped by Dutch officers. We found them preparing for war. and turning point of our journey was beyond the mountains of the moon of Java to the sultanate of Joj Jacarta. Here lives the usual natives in their colorful picturesque surroundings. Nearby Jok Jakarta are the world famous temples ruins of Pram Banan and Purbadur where it is alleged the ashes of the great coffet Buddha still moulder. These fallen temples are sacred to the natives and devout pagans. The Dutch government is reassembling the tumbled rocks of the old shrine. Here and there are sacred deer kept and protected by the priest left to wander freely through the ruins. My buddy Bob seems to find a kindred spirit in one of the elephant idols. Note these ancient carvings. Though the temples are hundreds of years old, this fine stonework of the ancient sculptures is still preserved. But carving is not a lost art to the natives. Here you see stone cutters imported from Bali working on a modern temple. The fabulously rich sultan of Jo Jakarta lives in a sanctum protected by five great walls. Within these walls live and die some 20,000 people. The sultan is absolute monarch over these people and they worship him second only to their pagan gods. Some of the croppen children play in the local cemetery. Notice how they have mocked Hitler by the cartoons and swastikas on the walls. At last we came to the innermost portal. On it we found the royal crest of the sultan. Beyond it native troops guard the sultan and his haram. Within the last wall, the regal spender of temples, idols, and banquet halls met our eyes. We saw some herum women working on Bakik sarons. The music heard in the background is from the Sultan's Gamlan Orchestra which rests under a gilded roof. We chanced upon one of the fascinating symbolic boy dancers practicing his art to the music of that Gaml and Orchestra. And behind the protection of a plate glass wall on which is emlazed his coat of arms the sultan with his brother the prince waited to greet us. The sultan and the prince personally escorted us about the inner sanctum. The sultan is the slight man in the bright sarong with the dotted waist. With reluctance he showed us his herum. These women must prostrate themselves on the ground like ducks in his presence. I expected to find them all young and beautiful. I forgot that herm women get old. But because they do is no reason why you should throw them well in the river. The sultan therefore has to support his grandfather and father's herum and finds one of his own impractical. Our delightful day was crowned with a royal drink served by the priests. Through cultivated rice fields and coconut groves we journey on to the seaport of Sarabaya. Java is a fertile and productive land. It supports over 800 people to the square mile. To the south of Java lies the utopian little island of Bali. To reach it, we sailed across the straits on a romantic outrigger canoe. Our native sailor and his son were expert seaman and soon navigated these 10 miles of open channel. I remember this day as one of the most pleasant and thrilling of my life. Why gliding across the sapphire waters to that enchanted place called Bali was like something out of the world of reality into a land where dreams come true. [Music] On into the interior, we traveled by car and came to an Australian farm where we discovered something that warmed our heart. For although we were halfway around the world from home, here was an Australian farmer farming with equipment made in our own backyard, a tractor from the Minneapolis Molen Implement Company. This farmer, a typical Aussie, cranks his Minneapolis Molen tractor and proudly drives off, turning over the good, fertile soil of this coastal country called Gibsland. [Music] [Music] [Music] [Music] [Music] Further inland, this time by rail through rich farming country. And finally we came to where the farming country of the land near the ocean gives way to the barren desert that consists of four fifths of the continent of Australia. Here, like hunted animals, live the most backward people of the world, the Australian Aborigines. The train stopped for water, and an Australian soldier posed some of these savages for us. They never bathed in a lifetime, and though less civilized than any other people of the world, their instincts of hunting and nature as keen as those of animals. on through the wilderness of the interior until we again come to the fertile stretch of land near the coast. And there we found the typical Australian sheep ranch. There's the jackaroo and his bulldog. Bulldog so much a symbol of the tenacious British Empire. [Music] [Music] Although Australia is most famous for its wolves, many of the farmers take pride in producing thoroughbred cattle. [Music] That little fellow saw daylight only a few hours before we made the pictures. Our farmer friend had a pet horse that shakes hands with him. When visiting Australian rural communities, it was thrilling for us to find the pride with which many a farmer displayed his Minneapolis Moline tractor to us. Finally, one day, way back in the hills of Gibsland, we came upon an extremely interesting tractor. Bowing along, turning over the furrows. It looked like one of the world's first really engineered models. On closer inspection, we were right. It was an old Twin City 1220. In fact, the first Twin City tractor ever sent to Australia 18 years ago. You know, there's something about that kind of record for America and especially Americanmade products, MM Twin City tractors, that make you proud when you see them so far from home. We talked to the farmer who owned the tractor, and he told us it has been running every day of those 18 years. Such a machine can easily do the job of an American goodwill ambassador abroad. Contrasting the old type, we found one of the latest models, a Minneapolis Molen Twin City equipped with an ingenious device to burn charcoal as fuel instead of gas. This charcoal burner is an invention made and installed in Australia on this standard Minneapolis molen tractor so that Australia can give its petrol to the heroic fighting forces struggling for democracy in outposts of the British Empire. Charcoal is brought to a combustion point in a burner. The gas is drawn off to a special carburetor and fortune. This is not only a demonstrator model, but a machine that actually does full service. Because of the rocky and irregular terrain the Australian farmers had to work, an inventor has developed a new type of herold called the stump jumper. It can easily pass over this rocky terrain without breaking the toms. You can readily see how efficiently it operates under these adverse conditions. [Music] On another field, we found a huge MM Twin City model doing a job that brings nothing but favorable comment from its owner. To strike up a friendship with any of these Twin City tractor owning Australian farmers, we merely had to say we came from Minneapolis, the city in USA where their tractor was manufactured. With the coming of lilacs, we know it is springtime in Australia. But when it's springtime in Australia, the leaves are beginning to turn at home. So, we turn our footsteps toward Sydney, the stepping off place to America. And one last afternoon we spent with some of our Australian friends sailing on the Australian Sydney Harbor. We had learned to know these chaps who on the next day were to stay over Africa as the heroic fighting men of Australia. [Music] [Music] A few days later, Bob and I boarded a freighter and headed across 8,000 m of unusually rough seas, which seemed to show with its very restlessness and tumo, a reflection of the angry force about to break loose on its shore. After 30 days, smoother waters brought the welcome shore of our America. We cheered as we saw the sunrise over Puget Sound. So it's home again, then home again America for me. My heart is turning home again where the air is full of sunshine and the