"Please put in more comedy," read the letter from Lord Beaverbrook to Darryl Zanuck, "We have enough drama these days--"

The letter accompanied a copy of the script of A YANK IN THE R.A.F. which had been sent to England for final ok before the picture went into production.

And so, taking his old friend’s brief but poignant words as a guide, Producer Zanuck has had fashioned a comedy drama to serve as a starring vehicle for Tyrone Power and Betty Grable, its background laid at the scene of the world's bravest and most soul shaking battleground.

You'll find no propaganda lurking behind this story, but you will get the inside on the chills and thrills, the human drama and the realism that lies behind the smiling, keen exterior of the British flyer.

For the first time in two years, Tyrone Power is playing a modern comedy role. As the brash, reckless American who takes a job taxi-ing American bombers from Canada to London--just for the thrills and the money involved--Ty is once more his gay, charming modern self.

And as for Betty Grable--well, unless Director Henry King misses his guess, Betty has just embarked on a new career--that of a dramatic actress!

Her songs and dance routines in the beginning of the film are just as dazzling as ever, but your eyes will be opened when you see how dramatic a performance little Betty gives later in the show when she portrays a nurse.

"If I don't do a good job, it will be my fault," Betty told me. "Henry King is so wonderful to work with. If he can't make me act, nobody ever can!'

You'll see Betty without the usual studio make-up in large part of the picture. According to English war regulations, women are not permitted to use "jungle red" lipstick, scarlet fingernails, plucked eyebrows, blackened eyelashes and elaborate coiffures. These technical details will be observed to the letter.

Betty's role in A YANK IN THE R.A.F. was largely due to her fans. When Producer Zanuck discovered that she was receiving six hundred letters a day from the boys in the service alone, he stopped testing for the role. If Betty was the soldiers ideal, he figures he couldn't do better than to cast her in a service picture.

The first set I saw represented a London night club during the early months of the war. A chill ran up and down my spine as we walked in. It was a little too realistic; almost as though a bomb had suddenly crashed through the ceiling pushing the table to one side and creating the general atmosphere of confusion.

"Where's the camera?" I whispered.

There were lots of people milling about, but there was an air of hushed suspense over all, and most of the people were whispering instead of chattering as is usual between scenes. And then, as my eyes became accustomed to the dimness after the bright sunlight outside, I saw what it was all about. They had just finished shooting the big scene with brightly lighted tables, chorus girls and music and were taking a table--looking very handsome in his R.A.F. uniform, listening to a playback of Betty Grable's song, which she had just recorded.

Betty, it seems had been excused early to go to the dentist. she's a good little trouper, that gal. Finding herself possessed of no less than four impacted wisdom teeth, Betty refused to hold up production on the picture while she had them attended to, comp0romosing by visiting her dentist for treatment each day until the last shot had been made.

"Wasn't that George Raft's car disappearing around the corner as we came in?" I inquired, tentatively.

"Sure was," I was told. "It picks Betty up every day. Even thought George and Betty have both been working at different studios, they manage to see one another every evening."

George and Betty's romance is one of the most discussed in Hollywood, at the moment. Rumors are rampant. "They're going to get married," you hear on the one hand. "They can't get married until George gets his divorce," is another. "They’re just good friends," someone else will tell you.

And Betty and George, refusing to comment, continue to dance every dance at Ciro's, dine at the Brown Derby, and take in the double-header baseball game at the Hollywood Ball Park every Sunday.

The story of A YANK IN THE R.A.F. begins in England in the early days of the war. Betty plays a chorus girl and Tyrone plays an irresponsible playboy who had been engaged, but she had broken it off because he just wouldn't be serious about anything.

Their first meeting after the separation takes place in an air raid shelter. Tyrone is willing and anxious to take up their romance where she had so abruptly broken it off, but Betty refuses to tell him the name of the cafe where she is engaged. she does throw him a word of encouragement, however, when she tells him he can show his worth by joining the R.A.F. She, herself, is working during the day as a volunteer nurse.

Tyrone is pretty pleased with himself when he finally tracks her down and shows up in his new uniform. Tyrone finds, however, that he has plenty of competition in the undivided attentions showered upon her by John Sutton and Reginald Gardiner, who play officers in the R.A.F.

I promised not to tell who gets her in the end, but it's touch and go throughout the film, with John on the inside track most of the time.

There are thrills galore throughout the picture, with actual battle scenes interspersed between the shots made in Hollywood. Producer Zanuck not only has secured full cooperation of the British government on the script of the picture, but has arranged to have shipped to Hollywood actual battle scenes, many of them taken by R.A.F. cameramen over German and French ports. Flight Lt. Laurence Worrall is in Hollywood to supervise the details of the filming of the Battle of Dunkirk. He participated in that tragic event himself.

Point Mugu, a small seaport not twenty miles from Hollywood's most fashionable seaside resort, Malibu Beach, has been converted into the town of Dunkirk. It's a bit frightening to se ruins duplicated on a California coastline.

One day, during the early days of shooting of the picture. Tyrone proved himself a hero in real life.

Tyrone and John Sutton were a quarter of a mile out from shore in a small rowboat. they were being rowed by a barge on which the camera had been set up, with its attendant crew and director Henry King officiating. suddenly, in the midst of their dialogue, they heard director King shout: "Hey, we're sinking!"

Ty and John turned to see the heavy barge with its apparently overloaded cargo, slowly starting to go down. Thinking quickly, they cut the two ropes and started loading the crew aboard the small craft. It took two trips to take them all safely to land, but they managed to come through with only a few minor injuries to show for it. All the equipment, however was at the bottom of the ocean.

"I never thought I'd try so hard to evacuate back to Dunkirk, after struggling two days and nights in a rowboat to get out of it," he chuckled, grimly. "And now we have to do it all over because of, with that film gone with the camera."

Tyrone actually is in fine fettle these days. And it's all because of A YANK IN THE R.A.F.

It seems Ty took up flying a year or so ago and became a terrific aviation enthusiast. He even went so far as to buy himself a plane. Every day found him out at the airport, taking off for parts unknown. Until the studio found out about his new enterprise. As a result, Tyrone was forbidden to fly, sold his plane, and swore to stay on solid ground for the sake of 20th Century Fox and his motion picture public.

With the advent of A YANK IN THE R.A.F. however, the studio had to give in because Tyrone was obliged to fly in a great many scenes in the picture. Every morning now finds Tyrone up at the crack of dawn, getting in a couple of hours flying time before he has to report for wor4k on the set. Evenings he spends studying meteorology, hoping that by the end of the picture he will have completed requirements for his private pilot's license.

The cast and crew don't know from one day to the next where they'll be shooting each morning. All are requested to "stand by" for that telephone call at dawn from Director King, indicating the spot selected for the day's work.

The reason for this secrecy is because of the sabotage element involved and the studio agreed readily to cooperate with the British authorities in not publicizing the scene of the shooting in advance. Authorization for the filming of the actual take-off of groups of British bombers was readily secured, but it's all a deep, dark secret where and when.

"Waiting for those phone calls reminds me of the old days," Tyrone said, reflectively. "When I was trying to crash the studios eight years ago, I used to keep within earshot of my phone months after month for fear I'd miss that lucky break!"

And speaking of lucky breaks, if you look sharp in the film, you'll see that old-time favorite, Charles Ray, playing his first character role in a picture.

"This role of an American business executive is a good starter for a second career," Charlie told me. "I thought I'd retired, but you can't once you've put on greasepaint."

As the big set came to life again, I began to hear a strange new language instead of the usual set slang of "Hit the baby," other studio jargon.

"Got your Mae West yet?" a young R.A.F. officer asked. "I beg your pardon?" the young night school student, an extra, who had been busily copying out of a notebook at one of the cafe tables, looked up inquiringly.

"I'm sorry old fellow, I boobed it," the first boy, a Britisher, apologized. "Thought you'd become acquainted with the R.A.F. slang."

And he went on to explain that a Mae West was a lifesaving jacket, furnished as a part of each flyer's equipment, and so-called because of its bulges--"in the right places!"

A "hush-hush", I learned, is a secret instrument; to "tap in" is to have a good time; "I boobed it," indicates he made a mess of it; I'm all buttoned up" indicates "I'm thoroughly prepared," while "I'm browned off" means "I'm fed up." All of which has been rapidly adopted by the studio workers.

Tyrone had now settled down to his daily game of gin rummy with John Sutton and one of the make-up men. They settle up every Saturday. At the present writing, the makeup man is well ahead.

"Be ready for [a] location call tomorrow," an assistant warned, over the loudspeaker. "Let you know where at five a.m."

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