Illness in North Africa, By Tracey Vale

I became very ill during the trip through North Africa—a stomach bug that commonly afflicted tourists through these provinces. Unfortunately, I suffered with a severe case of it, making the remainder of the tour extremely difficult although, thankfully, we were near the end. As there were no other doctors or medical facilities available to me, I had to join the sick line with the soldiers. The only thing they could give me, however, and in the mistaken belief that it was a ‘cure-all’, was a penicillin injection, administered with a frighteningly thick needle.

Suffice to say, this had no effect and my condition continued to worsen. Amazingly, I was able to get through the stage shows without incident. I could hear my mother’s voice in my head saying “The show must go on,” and could almost feel her hand on my shoulder blades as she gently pushed me toward the stage. I recalled suffering through that excruciating earache as a child, but still managing to please her as I smiled my way through the performance.

Thinking back, I don’t know how I managed to get through the remainder of the tour and yet still perform every night. It was terrible. As soon as my segment was over I’d discreetly run off the stage. The mind, I think, is a very powerful thing. It’s as if my bowel would say ‘Look, we can’t do anything right now—she’s on stage!’

The day before we were to leave for our next tour stop, a long bus trip on the edge of the desert, the military doctor prescribed a sleeping tablet. With the intention of getting a good, solid and restful night’s sleep before we were due to leave, I took the proffered tablet and had almost nodded off when Alistair appeared beside the bed. He said “I’ve got a tablet that will make you feel better.” He handed me a glass of water with the tablet and waited for me to pass the glass back. I thanked him and, before long, I was in a deep slumber.

“We’re here. Can you wake up or do you want us to carry you again?” It was Paul’s voice. I opened my eyes to see him smiling down at me. Moving my head and awkwardly getting one arm out from under me, I saw that I was lying across a narrow bus seat. As it had transpired, Alistair had given me another sleeping pill without knowing that I’d already taken one. The following morning, Alistair and Paul had bundled me onto the bus and I’d slept on—a total of 12 hours, plus I’d managed to wipe out the entire desert trip.

I was so thin when I got back to England and had to locate a toilet everywhere I went. I was admitted to hospital after seeing my doctor and spent six weeks there. After a number of tests and a trial of medicines, they couldn’t find out what I’d contracted and there was still no improvement. It had infected my large bowel and they said the bowel was ulcerated, hence the pain. After about a month in hospital, the doctor announced “We’re going to have to do a colostomy. The bowel isn’t healing and this is the only way.” He went on to explain that he had scheduled the operation for the following morning.

Later that day, Dad visited and I told him that I was to have an operation and asked if he knew what a colostomy involved. He didn’t, but said he’d find the doctor and ask. The doctor told him that my bowel would be shut off permanently and I would have a bag to collect the bile.

Once told, he said “No! You’re not doing that operation on my daughter.” The doctor explained that I wasn’t responding and the bowel wasn’t healing.

“No,” dad said again. “My daughter’s going to get better without having a bag hanging from her side.”

The doctor sighed and said, “Well, we’ll move her from the surgical ward then. I’m going on holidays tomorrow. We’ll put her into another ward.”

It turned out that this was the best thing he could have done. In his place, I had a marvelous Indian doctor who looked at alternative remedies. In the end, it was a simple solution—a change of diet and a medicine that would stay in my system while it healed. Before long, I had my strength back and was able to step out into a cold, Autumn afternoon, feeling eternally grateful and with a huge sense of freedom after what had seemed like an incarceration.

The illness would continue to dog me throughout my life but I was never again grounded by it as long as I stuck to the Indian doctor’s guidelines.

Our Second British War Office Tour, By Tracey Vale

Again we were busy with our puppet act following the Cinderella pantomime season and had just completed variety shows at the Tower Cinema. We were on our way to our second Combined Services Entertainment Tour with Summer Season booked up upon our return at Broadstairs, followed by Cinderella, to be performed at Croydon. Termed the '10,000 Miles Tour', it was to take in Malta, once again, and, where we covered parts of East Africa previously, we were now to travel through North Africa, including Libya's capital, Tripoli. Finally, we were to fly across the strait to the British Overseas Territory of Gibraltar, located on the southern tip of the Iberian Peninsula and bordered, in the north, by Spain. 

Farewell Act before 10,000 Miles Tour

    'Just before leaving on a 10,000 miles tour of Malta, Tripoli, North Africa and Gibraltar to entertain the troops, well-known puppeteers, Joan and Paul Sharratt called in at the Tower Cinema, Carters Green, on Saturday morning to see their old friend, the manager, Mr. Arthur Taylor, and found time to show some of their characters to two of the children attending the matinee performance, James Houghton (12) of 10, Cygnet Road, and Gillian Sorrel (11), of 17, Albert Street.

    'Joan and Paul, who left this country by air yesterday (Thursday) will be away for seven weeks. They have just finished a run in variety at Bilston's Theatre Royal and when they return they will go to Broadstairs for the summer season. After that, they are due to appear in the pantomime "Cinderella" at Croydon.

    'In December, they returned to this country from Aden and Kenya after a 14,000 mile tour entertaining the troops with comedian, Arthur English.'  

Charles Trentham's Puppet Stage

    'Paul and Joan Sharatt left at the end of last week with their marionettes for a round of group shows in Gibraltar, Tripoli, and Cyprus. This is their second Services entertainment tour in recent months, for, only a week before they went into pantomime at the New Royal, Bournemouth, they had returned from a similar trip to East Africa, to Aden and Kenya. While spending a few days at Nairobi, the Sharratts attended a performance by the Nairobi Puppet Theatre Club of the classic melodrama 'Maria Marten' or 'Murder in the Red Barn'.'

Our first destination was Malta where we performed the first of our 'Laughter and Lovelies' tour. This time the principal comic was the very funny Stanley Baxter who had been doing on-stage impersonations since the age of seven and had seen huge popularity in his native Scotland and in the U.K., with work in variety, pantomimes and BBC television. He was to go on to achieve 'superstar' status with his own lavish weekend television shows on ITV, an accomplishment that was to award him a BAFTA, whilst successfully maintaining a very private home life. We were to be joined on stage with his wife, Moira, as well as Fay Lenore, Alistair McHarg and Tony Bones.

A clipping from Malta (unknown newspaper) 

'Artistes forming the cast of the latest Combined Services Entertainment show to come to Malta,"Laughter and Lovelies", now on its second appearance. Those taking part are Stanley Baxter, Fay Lenore, Alistair McHarg, Moira Baxter, Paul and Joan Sharratt, and Tony Bones.

'Joan Sharratt is a delightful song and dance artist. At the ivories is Tony Bones, a talented and versatile revue and concert pianist. Although in the background, he is singled out by the spotlight.'

Alistair McHarg was well versed in entertaining the troops as he had done so during World War Two. Since then, he'd been cast in variety as an accomplished pianist and singer. He also sang in Britain's first major technicolour film, London Town, in 1948, alongside such greats as Petula Clark and the comic, Sid Field.  He was the youngest of eight sons, all of whom were musical thanks to the efforts of their father, a Salvation Army Bandmaster. Alistair was the pianist on our first Combined Services Tour but had requested, for subsequent tours, that he should come out from behind the piano to sing, as he had a magnificent bass-baritone voice, and to act. 

As a result, Tony Bones accompanied us as the pianist. Tony, also known as Anthony Bowles or 'The Ant', had studied at London's Royal Academy of Music and had worked with the composer, Benjamin Britten, later becoming the pianist for a number of ballet companies including the Stuttgart Ballet. He was to become a leading composer and director and would write scores for television and films such as The Odessa File and was to compose in productions of Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice musicals.


He was a very funny man and kept us entertained with anecdotes of his antics that had us in stitches. One such story was to do with one of his extra curricular money earning endeavours. It was common for actors or musicians to do promotional work in between professional gigs and he'd responded to a toothpaste company's advertisement. They had asked for anyone who owned a white mini to have a giant tube of toothpaste attached to the top so that they could drive around the island of Eros, drawing attention to and promoting their product. Anthony turns up on the designated day and ends up being the last in line to have the tube fitted to the roof--thus making him car number 20. They were each given a map of the area they were to drive around, all beginning at the nearby roundabout. When it was finally Anthony's turn to take-off, he'd made it only halfway around the roundabout when a police officer pulled him over. Winding the window down, he was greeted with the officer puffing exasperatedly, "How many times are you going to  go around this bloody roundabout?!"

So, along with the acting talents of Moira Baxter and the soubrette talents of Fay Lenore, we were, all in all, a talented bunch. Stanley Baxter was hilarious and we were to learn so much from him. Rehearsing for one of the skits, Paul and Alistair were monkeying about in ballet costumes when Stanley called them to attention.

"No, no! That's not how it's done. You're not to act as though you're idiots in a ballet, you need to pretend as though you really are seasoned ballerinas," he coached. "Don't do it silly. Do it as if you are the best ballet dancers in the world." The difference was remarkable and so much funnier! He was so talented and was always right in his advice. There are little tricks that he taught me that I have since used repeatedly in teaching my students. He had one particular line in the show that wasn't funny but, the way he said it, always got a roar from the audience. His use of 'the pause' is one of the tips I teach my students. After explaining it to one of my classes one day, I finished with "I was (pause) adopted."

"Oh! Were you really, Miss Leslie?" asked one of the children, with a look of great sympathy on his face. He's a wonderful performer who has left his mark and I'm grateful to have worked with him.

Our tour in Malta was well received and we found the island to be beautiful. We stayed in the Astra Hotel, a six-storey limestone building on a rocky, coastal edge. We toured Valetta, with its old, tall buildings--also built from the locally-quarried limestone as was characteristic of all the buildings and houses here--and narrow streets. We spent our 'off time' in outdoor seaside cafes or feeding the many pigeons in the open square.

Libya followed and was full of the most memorable moments of our second tour. Again, the British troops were grateful for our efforts and our shows were met with much applause and laughter. We took in Tobruk, a small town on the coast of northeast Libya, and Benghazi, Libya's second largest city. It was here that Alistair hoped to find closure on the death of his brother who went missing during World War Two. He was a pilot and was believed to have been shot down somewhere near Benghazi.

He hoped to find a record of him at the Benghazi cemetery, one of the largest of its type in the area. With a day off, Alistair, Paul and I set off to explore the cemetery records with him. What we discovered was a sea of white tombstones, widely spaced and seeming to stretch over miles of flat, treeless land, appearing to stretch for miles into the desert. A sergeant, who was also the live-in caretaker, opened the huge gates and we were ushered toward a tiny cottage.

Alistair explained the reason for our visit and the sergeant assured him that we could search the records. "But first," he said. "I'll just get you to sign the visitor's book."

From inside a column, he drew out the book and, opening to a well-worn page, showed us the signatures of Laurel and Hardy. "Without fail," he said. "They send money every year in memory of the fallen soldiers here." The sergeant spoke in a quiet, gentle tone and it was obvious that he cared and felt humbled and honoured at the same time.  The cemetary was specifically for the British soldiers and, just a short distance down the road, was another Benghazi War Cemetery for locals and others.

We signed our names and waited while he selected the record books. After taking down details of name and rank, he opened it to the right section. But, searching through, we discovered that there was no record of his brother. Alistair sighed heavily and accepted the Sergeant's proffered cup of tea gratefully.

Seeing that the late afternoon light was deepening, the Sergeant glanced at his watch and said, "Excuse me, I won't keep you long but there's something I have to do." With that, he stood up and walked quickly to the door and down the two steps. We followed, curious and stood at the open door. The sergeant had stopped before the first row of headstones and was silhouetted by the dipping orange of the sun.

"Goodnight boys. God bless you, one and all." It was a touching scene and an emotional moment. I said this to the sergeant after he'd turned and walked back to us.

"I wouldn't miss a morning to greet them, nor a night to wish them well. They were all so young," he said. Leaving the cemetery, Alistair felt disheartened but we all felt a sense of peace for the buried there. 

How comforting for the mothers of those sons if they knew there was someone there looking over them and who obviously cared for these boys who were buried so far from home, I thought, staring out at the vast desert landscape on the drive back to the hotel.

That night, the first of our concerts in Benghazi, we found the officers and their wives, or one in particular, to be hysterical and more than a little crazy. Before we'd begun, the Commander's wife, who was dressed to the nines in evening wear and dripping with jewels, approached us. She spoke with a thickly posh accent. "Oh, I am so-o-o looking forward to the sho-o-o-w," she drawled, making her way to the couches that formed the officer's front row.

We mixed with the officers after the show and the Commander's wife made an immediate beeline for us.

"Bloody good sho-o-o-w," she drawled again. "Lo-o-o-ved the chorus girls." 

The five of us looked at each other as she shimmied away, biting our lips so as not to laugh until she was well out of earshot. "Chorus girls?!" said Alistair, shaking his head. There were only the five of us in the show, certainly not enough people for a chorus, let alone a row of chorus girls.

Paul and I left earlier that night and were greeted the next day by a knock on the door. I opened it to see a very tired-looking Alistair standing there.

"What a night!" He said, stepping into our suite. "They had me there 'til three in the morning! I kept saying I needed to get back, when, finally, one of the officers agreed to drive me back to the hotel." He took a sip of the coffee I'd poured him and continued on. "They're a crazy lot! They've lost their heads. He says to me 'I know a shortcut--we'll cut through here'. So he takes this shiny car through one of those narrow streets, built only just wide enough for a horse and small cart, and it's scraping and grinding against the rock walls on either side! Didn't phase 'im either! He just kept going and none of the other officers in the car even seemed to notice. You should've seen the car by the end of it!"

The following night we were to mingle with the other ranks after the show and had decided to work the subject of the officers into the conversation. We asked casually what was their opinion of them and received the satisfying response. "Oh--crazy! The lot of 'em!"

Continuing our stay in Libya, we took in the sights of the ancient Roman town of Leptis Magna on the Mediterranean coast and about 100 kilometres southeast of Tripoli. Through an archway, we took in a massive circular auditorium of stone steps rising high above the enclosed arena below. The sea formed the back-drop of a tiered stage area, complete with dozens of tall columns. It was not a tourist attraction at the time of our visit and was empty apart from a handful of Arab men working there. They'd uncovered pieces of ancient mosaics, china and coins and assured us we could take whatever we wanted--an invitation we would not expect today! “Oh yes—take those...and those," they said, pressing coins and broken china into our hands.

References

http://www.televisionheaven.co.uk/stanley_baxter.htm

http://www.thestage.co.uk/features/obituaries/2005/05/alistair-mcharg/

http://www.artistswithaids.org/artforms/music/catalogue/bowles.html

A darkened stage, By Tracey Vale

We returned from Kenya to our homeland with only a week to spare before Will Hammer's production of Cinderella was to begin. I was back to performing 'Disney style', with full, petticoated gowns  replacing the modern ballgowns and we were thrown into the cold of a British winter after the often relentless heat of Africa.

I was interviewed for an article promoting Bournemouth’s Cinderella, just prior to the show opening. It featured a number of photographs and gave a lighthearted account of the fitting of the glass slipper. Audiences filled the theatre night after night and I was loving every moment.

I felt truly blessed to be playing Cinderella and to have had the security and enjoyment as a soubrette in summer shows. The costumes and sets were beautiful and the theatre was huge and with the typical grandeur of a number one theatre. I felt so at home there.

In the mornings, I loved to walk onto the darkened stage alone. With only the slight echo of my footsteps, I would then stand at centre stage and look out over the shadowy depths of empty, expectant seats. Only thin wisps of light glowed from  the exit signs. A hush fell as my footsteps faded. “Magic,” I thought, every time. Years later I read an account of this very same feeling in a book about Noel Coward. He liked to do the same thing and felt an awing sense of how special it was to stand alone on a darkened stage in contrast to what it was to become on performance nights.

Kenya and the Mau Mau, By Tracey Vale

The Mau Mau, were an anti-colonial group who instigated the rebellion, known as the Mau Mau Uprising, in 1952. Rebel leader, Deden Kimathi, was captured on October 21, 1956, only two weeks  before our arrival in Kenya. His capture signalled defeat for the Mau Mau and the end to the British military campaign against the rebellion.

One of the soldiers told us that Kimathi had been found in the jungle and was wearing a tiger skin as a disguise. We had also been informed that the Mau Mau were highly dangerous and that, before retiring for the night, we should shift heavy furniture behind the doors of our rooms for added protection. As we travelled, we saw many villages burnt out and were informed that this was the work of the Mau Mau. We also heard terrifying stories of killings and torture.

Despite the claim that the rebellion was over, however, the Mau Mau  continued to be oppressed by colonisation and were yet to have their original grievances met. They were forced to remain in concentration camps, termed a policy of ‘villagisation’ by the British Government where they were to be rehabilitated, or so the British propaganda went. In truth, they were held in huge camps surrounded by fences and barbed wire. Deep trenches surrounded each camp with barbs in their bases. Diseases spread quickly under unsanitary conditions and malnutrition and torture were rife.

Land reform was still necessary and the economic grievances, such as this, still failed to be acknowledged, let alone met. It was Kenya’s fertile land that attracted the British to Kenya in the 1890’s, with rebellion for land reform occurring from that time on. The Mau Mau uprising followed a series of revolts caused by oppression of its original inhabitants. Land had been allocated in such a way as to give Europeans the most, with limited amounts left for the inhabitants, forcing them to continue to be lowly paid workers, unable to better their position.

The Mau Mau seemed to be everywhere in Kenya and we continued to be ‘on guard’ as per our warnings. We travelled a lot, even by train from Nairobi to Mombassa and saw a great deal of the country.

We did some shows in Mombassa on a makeshift stage near the beach. There was a tent allocated as our dressing room and we were warned that we had more to fear than rebel Mau Mau. We were told “Watch out for snakes and Mombassa trains!”

“Mombassa trains?” we’d asked, having just arrived on one that seemed perfectly safe.

“No, no!” A soldier informed us. “These are huge centipedes.”

It was not long before we saw one—and they were indeed huge. The tent became inundated with them and we had to shake out costumes thoroughly before donning them, with centipedes flying out with each swish of fabric.

Moving on again, we stayed near Nakura, in motel-style accommodation and soon discovered that the actor, Victor Mature, was also staying there. Nicknamed ‘The Hunk’, Mature was a leading American actor who had become one of Hollywood’s busiest since World War Two with starring roles in My Darling Clementine; Kiss of Death; Samson and Delilah and The Egyptian, among others.

As he stayed holed up in his room unless he was filming, the army boys wanted to force him out. They thought it would be hilarious sport to have the man who usually portrayed powerful and fearless characters, to be fooled into the opposite extreme. We were duly warned that a mock attack was to take place to test the so-called fearless film star. That night, pretending to be Mau Mau rebels, a group of soldiers stormed, banging, shouting and crashing outside the back of his room. We witnessed the result through a gap in our curtains, stifling laughter at the sight of the six-foot-two man racing out of his room in a terrified frenzy and running, screaming for help, in a white night-shirt.

Following our return home to England, we were interviewed about our experiences in Kenya. The article was as follows:

'The Sharratts were subject to a certain amount of danger from Mau Mau, especially during their trip through the Baharti Forest, which some girls in there party elected not to undertake.

'One remote base was Gil Gil (Windy) inhabited by 98 men. Ninety-six soldiers saw their show--the other two had to remain on guard."

'"In all these bases," said Paul, "There was a great spirit. It gave us a good feeling of doing something worthwhile."

'"After the show we would go to the messes for parties, which usually lasted all night and during which the show started all over again."

'One day their bathing costumes were stolen--by monkeys. The monkeys took the costumes from a verandah on their seafront bungalow, then buried them in the back garden.

'Paul and Joan are both from Walsall. Both are 24 and their puppet act has been going strong for three years.'

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mau_Mau_Uprising

http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001514/bio

Cyprus to East Africa, By Tracey Vale

Our tour in Cyprus was to take over from that of Frankie Howerd and his group. Frankie Howerd was a British comic actor and comedian in film, television and stage. He was later to be known famously for his most successful film roles in ‘Up Pompeii’ and the ‘Carry On’ movies and was termed a ‘comic genius’. He’d been touring in Cyprus, while we were in Aden, when tragedy struck one of his co-touring soubrettes. Her accidental death occurred while travelling between shows. She was shot and killed by the soldier seated, for their protection, directly behind her in the vehicle, his weapon, armed and ready, firing through the seat. As a result, Frankie had requested a return home and he and his fellow entertainers left Cyprus shortly before our arrival. Our tour was to take over from his and also meant a longer stay on the island.

At the beginning of 1956, Britain had 17000 troops situated in Cyprus. This was to rise to 20000 by December of the same year. A number of U.S. Navy personnel were also there and worked closely with the British to assist with electronic intelligence.

We toured Cyprus, performing on makeshift stages for British troops billeted in Famagusta, on the east coast, in the capital, Nicosia and on the coast in northern Cyprus at Kyrenia Castle. The castle, a huge, high walled structure resembling more of a compound than a castle, had been built by the Venetians in the 16^th century. It was now under British control and remained so for the duration of the EOKA turmoil.

Our next stop was Malta near the end of October, followed by a long trip to East Africa via Aden airways, arriving at Eastleigh Airport in Nairobi in early November. We were to continue our “It’s English” tour, performing primarily for British troops in Kenya. Our first performance in East Africa was on November 5 at Kahawa and we were moving on to Nyeri the following day. We stayed in hotel accommodation at the New Stanley Hotel and the Norfolk Hotel, both in Nairobi, Kenya, as well as the Mawingo Hotel “on the slopes of Mount Kenya”, as its brochure espoused. Our longest stays were in Nairobi, where I consistently fainted, on at least a daily basis, due to the high altitude.

Cyprus, By Tracey Vale

Despite being sent to Cyprus for our safety, it was soon evident that our new destination was just as volatile, if not worse. Cyprus was a military base for the British and they wanted to keep it that way, especially since they had withdrawn from Egypt. Cyprus represented the only British 'holding' in the Eastern Mediterranean and was therefore a strategic base. The island was also being used as a launch point for the Suez Crisis, which meant not only were we not escaping that battle, but were in the midst of another.

Since World War Two, Greek Cypriots wanted to become part of Greece. Britain had made some concessions over the years but still maintained power, with the British governor maintaining his place as the overall leader of Cyprus. Cyprus had been annexed by Britain in 1914 and had become a crown colony in 1925.

The Greek Cypriots had become increasingly dissatisfied and, in 1955, an organisation had been formed to demand independence from Britain by violent means. Meanwhile, by 1956, the Greek Cypriot police force had been boosted by Turkish Cypriots, who then formed the majority. This in turn led to the formation of an organisation which demanded the partition of Cyprus, rather than ceding the entire island to Greece. Partition was desired by Turkish Cypriots and also by Turkey.

Guerilla warfare continued through 1956 between the Greek Cypriots and the Turkish Cypriots. Britain had formed a paramilitary police force comprised of Turkish Cypriots and fought to maintain their hold over Cyprus. As a result, we discovered that it was a very scary place to be. Everywhere we went, travelling in a combie van, we had a military escort vehicle in front of us and another behind us. As most of the fighting occurred in the villages, we had to hunker down on the floor of the vehicle as it passed through these townships. At these points, a soldier walked on either side of our van. The danger around us was very evident.

Also at the time of our visit, young people on motorbikes would throw home-made bombs and we had been warned that we were potential, if not accidental, targets. Each morning we received a memo from the War Office delivered to our hotel room. This would state where we could or could not go for that day. On one particular day, Alistair, Paul and myself wanted to go to the shop situated just  around the corner to purchase postcards. Due to its close proximity, we didn’t see the harm and set out on a short walk. We selected and paid for the postcards and, stepping back out into the quiet street, we noticed a group of young men on motorbikes near the opposite end. Seeing us, they sped forward and began hurling something through the air towards us.

Remembering the bomb warnings, we instinctively sheltered our heads with our arms. Alistair yelled out in his thick Scottish accent “Just pretend ya haven’t noticed!” With that, he took off at full speed. Looking after him for just a second, Paul and I sped off after him, a difficulty for me as I was wearing high heels. “Run for ya lives!” Alistair turned his head sharply to check that we were close behind. The objects continued to be hurled in our direction, bouncing off walls and poles, with the odd one hitting our limbs.

“Don’t worry—they’re only stones,” called Paul, as we continued to run from the showering debris. We realised with considerable relief that they were stones, and not bombs, but were suitably humbled at the thought of what they very well could have been. Despite this and other experiences, it was an exciting time, although it should have, in hindsight, been terrifying. It was simply part and parcel of what we were doing and, I think, having grown up during the air raids of World War Two, we were ‘acclimatised’ to a great degree.

Sources

http://www.rhinocarhire.com/The-Varosha-Blog/Cyprus-Time-Line.aspx

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/1021835.stm

"It's English!" By Tracey Vale

We left early on October 25, 1956, from London, destined for Aden, and flying with British Aviation Services, or Britavia, on a Hermes aircraft. This was the first of many tours we were to do for the War Office and many took us over on R.A.F planes. The commercial flight for our first tour was far more desirable, not to mention quiet, by comparison. Often, we didn't know the places we were to entertain in and there was often, too, a last minute change of plans, usually owing to a crisis or something similar. Little did we know that a crisis was about to erupt.

Aden was hot, dry and virtually treeless. The name of the hotel we were to stay in at Steamer Point, Aden, was apt--The Rock Hotel. However, the huge bay that Aden sits on is spectacular and faces an island of inactive volcanoes. It is Yemen's economic capital and consists of a number of towns including the commercial centre, Crater, so named because of its position at the base of a volcanic  crater. Its walls form a backdrop of dark grey lava rock rising high above the town.

British influence began in Aden, the biggest sea port in Yemen, in 1839 when the British East India Company landed there with marines to control piracy of their goods, which had formerly been under attack near the port. The Aden port then became an important transportation route between British India and the Red Sea. It was also an important coaling station, this coming to fruition with the opening of the Suez Canal in 1869.

Aden was governed as part of British India prior to 1937 and, from April 1, 1937, became a separate Crown Colony of the United Kingdom up until 1963. It was then reconstituted as part of the New Federation of South Arabia, becoming the State of Aden.

Despite Aden being a Crown Colony of the United Kingdom, the population, when we were there in 1956, consisted of just over 100 000 Arabs compared to 4500 Europeans. Other demographics included under 1000 Jews, around 11000 Somalians and 16000 Indians. We even discovered the 'Australian Shop', situated on The Crescent at Steamer Point and with proprietor Shilay Yahooda. The store stocked silk and ready-made 'Ladies and Gents' goods.

Only three months prior to our arrival, the Egyptian president, Gamal Abdel Nasser, had announced the nationalisation of the Suez Canal to fund the Aswan Dam, a project the United States and britain had refused to finance. Also, since his rise to leadership in 1954, Nasser had aimed to remove the British from Egypt. Britain and France were major shareholders in the company that ran the canal and Egypt received only a minimal portion of profits. Their control of the canal was also symbolic of western dominance.

It has been said since that Nasser's action, followed by the subsequent events, changed the world and marked the end of Britain's reign as a stand-alone world power. Within only months, it was also to spell the end of Eden's role as British Prime Minister, although he cited ill health at the time.

The announcement alarmed Eden, provoking him into immediate negotiations with France and Israel. The canal was also strategic for Israel as a passage to Asia and Africa and they had been incensed recently by Egyptian blockades. A world conference was organised to plan the international management of the canal but Nasser refused to attend and rejected the idea.

On the 24th of October, the same day we had been photographed and interviewed by the newspapers concerning our '10000 miles' trip, a secret plot was signed in Paris involving Britain, France and Israel. The plan was that Israel was to attack the Egyptian military as a pre-cursor for French and British intervention. It was to appear that the latter nations would step in to demand a stop to the fighting and as a means of taking over control of the canal by consequence.

Innocently, we arrived in what was to become a war-zone. We unpacked our belongings at the hotel, did a little sight-seeing and familiarised ourselves with our new stage and dressing rooms. Arthur English, whose rise to fame was due in part to his popular role as principal comic in London's famous Windmill Theatre since 1949, was hilarious on and off the stage and we were to learn so much from him. He had also featured on radio with BBC's Variety Bandbox and performed in clubs, pantomimes and summer shows. From the 1970's , he was to star in a number of television series including his greatest success in 'Are You Being Served'. One of his signature themes was to dress flamboyantly for the stage wearing a huge, multi-coloured tie, which did much to enhance his six-foot stature.

Following our performance, we were required to alternate between the Officer's Mess and that of the other ranks. The first night, we visited the Officer's Mess and spoke with both the officers and their wives. Being actors, we would speak to them in our 'posh' voices and, on the alternate nights with the other ranks, we became and sounded very common. Arthur English played up to this magnificently.

In the Officer's Mess, he would maintain an exaggerated posh, English accent for a full three hours. "Oh, yes," he would drawl, dressed in an evening jacket and cravat. "Absolutely marvelous!" The following night, dressed casually, he donned a completely different personality to fit in with the others. He would greet the other ranks, who were more natural and so different from the officers, with "'Ow ya goin' there cop?". Each separate set of army personnel genuinely believed he was the character he so effortlessly portrayed to them.

Our shows were appreciated with loud applause but the locals of Aden didn't seem to like us. One morning, I had placed my sunglasses on the balcony ledge and accidently brushed them off, where they fell to the ground below. Looking down to see where they had landed, a man looked up at me with hostility in his eyes. Without removing his stare, he trod on the glasses, twisting his foot to smash them completely. I stepped back from my view of him and took a few deep breaths.

On the morning of October 29, one of the R.A.F. officers offered to take us into Crater for some shopping. Paul, Alistair and I agreed enthusiastically and boarded the proffered military vehicle. He took us to see the Coca Cola factory first, then into Crater. The streets were impossibly quiet, which the Officer also thought was unusual, as he pulled to one side of the main street and let us out. All was silence. There was no-one around. We walked up and down the narrow streets of shops but all were closed. By about the fifth lane along, we could hear noise and muffled voices. Walking closer, we could make out a large group of Arabs gathered around a radio. 

"Turn around," the Officer with us whispered urgently, realising what was happening. "Walk quietly away!" We made it stealthily back to the end of the lane when a military truck pulled up roughly and the men inside literally scooped us up into the back while the officer with us ran to his vehicle. The truck pulled away in a scurry of dust and squealing wheels.

Our hearts were pounding at this sudden action and we were yelled at by the army personnel. "What the bloody hell are you doing here!" The Officer should not have taken us in and was to face some form of disciplinary action once he returned to base. The radio the Arabs had been huddled over was announcing the beginning of a war: the Suez Crisis. 

Israel had invaded Gaza Strip and the Sinai Peninsula, with troops moving rapidly forward to the canal. By the 31st, Britain and France began their bombing campaign, leading to the retaliation by Nasser--the sinking of 40 ships. As a result of the unrest, we were sent immediately to Cyprus.

References

•  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colony_of_Aden
• http://www.traveladventures.org/continents/asia/crater.shtml Crater and Aden
• http://www.onstuis.co.uk/crater.html Crater
• Suez: A very British crisis (BBC) http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/programmes/6045808.stm
• Timeline: The Suez crisis (BBC) http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/5194576.stm
• Suez: End of Empire (BBC) http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/5199392.stm
• Arthur English 1919-1995 http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0257583/