Bradley beam., 1943-12-18
Bob Hope Is Army's One-Man Morale
 Division Says Esquire

Any other: man WOulU nave u- cers, but not Bob Hope, the Army's one-man morale division, says Sid ney Carroll in his article WHERE THERE'S LIFE in the January is- sue of ESQUIRE magazine. Hope holds down a full-time job as a movie star, as a radio comedian, and as the country's leading per former at campshows here and overseas, without sign of an ul- cer. Scientists try to explain Hopes amazing powers of endurance by calling him an energist. .one who is unable to get tired. But author Carroll regards Hopes tirelessness as a miracle. Whatever it is, it's enabled him to entertain more servicemen than any other perfor- mer in this war.
 Hopes recent tour of the British Isles, Africa, Sicily and Iceland has been called a saga, and Hope him. self is almost legendary. He's not content to rest on his record, points out ESQUIRE. Retiring to Del Monte, California, for a four-day rest after his return from abroad, he played three camp shows dur ing the time. Now he's making plans for a new tour of the South Pacific.
 Hope started appearing at camps when Selective Service was new and unfamiliar term to Americans, aid the war was still far away. When Pearl Harbor came, he tried six times to enlist. The Army had other ideas for him. . he was to entertain at military camps and to sell bonds. He's sold enough war bonds to build fleet of ships, says ESQUIRE.
 Last April Hope started the Afr can tour. Chock full of pills and anti-toxins, Hope, Miss Langford, Tony Romano, and Jack Pepper set out for England by Clipper. He went through the British Isles, top to bottom. He'd come riding into an Army camp, and when G.L. spot ted the sd-snoot and the chin that hangs like a hammock, and they heard the first words of that dot dash delivery, they went wild. His costume consisted of a scalloped shirt, a five day growth of beard, and a light weight suit he had begged off Britisher. "The shoul- ders of that suit" he says, weren't built up at all. 1 came out shaped like a coward"
 Hope and Company played 218 shows out of doors, and 47 shows in hospital wards, in ten weeks, says ESQUIRE. Average: four shows a day. They played for sol diers in the field, for wounded men in stretchers, wheelchairs, and ht- ters. And there was always the personal word, the wise crack, for the boys in the beds.
 After their final show in Algiers, they set out for home, via Eng land and Iceland, where they stop ped for lunch. The weather was clear and crisp, says ESQUIRE, but when the CO laid eyes on Hope, he got a peculiar gleam in his eyes He went into a huddle with the weather man and then said to Hope, Bad flying conditions. You'll have to stay over for seven hours" In the meantime. would MT. Hope. er...? Hope would and did. He gave three shows the next four hours. Immediately after the last show the weather man reported that the weather had suddenly cleared up. So home they came.
 Hopes spare moments are now filled up with writing and teiephon- ing mothers, wives, and sweet hearts of boys he saw on his Gulli- ver's Travels. A few thousand let ters and phone calls are easy for Hope. the man with three full-time jobs, concludes ESQUIRE