They Call It Pacific

Words at war. Out in the South Pacific Ocean. There was great faith and a lot to be learned in the last two months of 1941. And in the first four months of 1942. There was great faith.

The United States will never let the Philippines call. We'll show those jets when it means to plan a big league. We'll have reinforcements any day now. Relaxing to this off the coast, we're getting planes to normal planes.

It must be ours. And a lot to be learned. Dispers your battleships. Never anchor in a straight line. Freddy, straight lines. Excellent targets. Dispers your airplanes to a number of small scattered landing fields. No line formation to an underground.

Straight lines. Like the clay pipes in a shooting gallery. One. Two. Three. Four. Five clay pipes in a shooting gallery. With a Japanese eye behind the gun. Two, four, six, eight, ten planes in a straight line down there, and a Japanese eye behind the gun above them.

The Jabs can't fight why they can't even shoot. Uh-oh! Wait, can't even shoot. They call it Pacific Words at War. The National Broadcasting Company, in cooperation with the Council on Books in War Time, brings you another in its series of radio adaptations of great books of this war.

Each week at this time, we bring you selected dramatic episodes from some of the most stirring of our war-inspired literature. Tonight's story, they call it Pacific, by Clark Lee, distinguished foreign correspondent. They call it Pacific.

Japanese-occupied Shanghai, China, late in November of 1941. I was sitting at a table in an nearly deserted tea room. Opposite me was American-born Sergeant Ajimimimatsui of the Imperial Japanese Army. Jimmy, we call him. And now Jimmy is glancing cautiously around the room.