PUT THAT LIGHT OUT

In early 1943 I was transferred from Trowbridge, Wilts to Douglas Isle of Man. To continue my training as a Wireless Intercept Operator (Spec. Op) at the Special Operator’s Training Battalion of the Royal Corps of Signals.

We were billeted in a bank of tall hotels in the centre of  Douglas Bay ( Palace Camp ) , surrounded by barbed wire, this compound earlier having been used to house many suspected enemy aliens – by this time they had proved to be innocent and had been returned to their homes if they still existed.

The Battalion had also taken over the Douglas Bay Hotel as the Holding Company to house those soldiers who had completed their training, this hotel being located on the Northern point of Douglas Bay , on Onchan Head. The S.O.T.B. (Special Operator’s Training Battalion) also had access to the magnificent ballroom which was part of the extensive entertainment complex built for the flourishing pre- war holiday visitors to the island, called the Derby Castle Entertainment Centre.

Besides the ballroom there was a cinema, restaurants, swimming pool, bars, gardens ect, and the centre was separated  by a road and tram lines for horse drawn trams from the promenade and beach, on the Northern section of the beautiful curved Douglas Bay and not far from the Douglas Bay Hotel.

The ballroom was magnificent and typical of per – war venues for ballroom dancing with sprung floor with tables and chairs, stairs leading up to a surrounding balcony with tables and chairs and a number of boxes for the V.I.P. s ect.

There were also bars and counters for drinks and refreshments at floor level.

All these various locations would have been well lit and the controls were contained in a huge switchboard at the back of the stage, manually operated as computers had not been invented in 1943.

The Army had taken over the ballroom which ceased to function as such privately for those few holiday visitors who might be expected to visit Douglas in the summer of 1943.

Our unit had started to use the extensive wooden floor area as an indoor gymnasium. It was also proposed to use the floor and limited areas around it, including the stage for unit dances to which locals and eventually holiday visitors could be admitted as paying customers.

By this time the Battn , had a number of soldiers who could play  musical instruments, some having been professionals or semi professionals before being called up for war service.

Such personnel were retained as long as possible to keep the unit band functioning and some were given static jobs such as clerks, cooks, ect.

Our band was led by an ex- drummer from Jack Hylton’s Orchestra, who had damaged his hand in earlier service, but could still play the drums, but presumably could not fire a rifle in combat.

Another excellent musician was named Ken Skingle a red haired saxophonist who was actually a trainee intercept operator and a most marvellous tenor sax player.

So we had the music to help convert the gymnasium floor into a conventional venue for ballroom dancing.

But after nearly three years of virtual neglect the floor itself needed a lot of attention, so volunteers were invited to brush the floor with the wide brooms in storage and apply some French chalk to help the dancing shoes to slide.

Those volunteers were offered free entrance to all the dancing which were planned to be held on future Sunday afternoons.

Needless to say, with my interest in dancing and my meagre Army pay as a Signalman (the lowest paid in the Signals) I was one of the first to volunteers.

So on the Saturday afternoon before the first Sunday dance, we few volunteers turned up armed with brooms and lager French chalk, set about preparing the floor for the big opening the following day.

Our final action was to practise a few dance steps, partnering each other much to the amusement of members of the band who had gathered on the stage to rehearse and decide on which dances and tunes to prepare for the first dance.

19 year old Ken Skingle, tenor saxophonist extraordinaire was in his element, eventually turning the rehearsal into a jam session with we ballroom devotees jigging on the floor near the huge stage, not wanting to finish our task, even though it was beginning to get dark inside the ballroom.

Musicians and volunteers “attacked “bars etc.

The huge switchboard trying to find switches for the stage, floor area, boxes, bars ECT.

Switches went down and up and probably one or two stayed down, but at least we had lights to complete our floor cleaning and polishing task.

We would have realised that by now it would be dark outside, it being early evening.

Just as we were all nearly ready to leave to return to our billet at Palace Camp, we suddenly heard violent banging on the main doors of the building and the sound of loud voices.

As we opened the doors we were confronted by an angry mob of officials including Police, civilian and Military, Air Raid Wardens etc, all shouting “Put that xxxxx lights out “and pointing up the side of the building.

As soon as we were able to stand out on the pavement and look along the 200 yard length of the complex, facing the promenade, beach and Irish Sea, we could see a long string of different coloured light bulbs brilliantly illuminating the building and making it a perfect target for enemy planes which, on the West coast of England.

A hasty examination of the switchboard at the back of the stage soon spotted the offending switches which were promptly switched off , and  as we watched , the long string of coloured lights shining out to Sea were extinguished and the war time “ black out “ returned to Douglas.

Our faces were as red as certain of the coloured bulbs and I don’t know if there were any air raids that night, but thankfully no bombs fell on Douglas, so we all slept peacefully that night after being threatened by the Police, chastised by the Air Raid Wardens and told not to do it again.

As if we would.

After 51 years later 1994, one of a number of requests I made to a special programme on Radio Shropshire which featured record requests accompanied by an associated story, was a big band record of 1943 with an account of the illumination of Douglas Bay.

A few hours after the programme was broadcast my phone rang and the caller was a former Wireless Intercept Operator, living in Shrewsbury, who was also training in Douglas at that very time, and remembered the incident.

I have long since visited him and his wife and we regularly correspond especially at Christmas.

I did not forget the unusual name Ken Skingle, the fabulous tenor sex man who was the musical main stay of our unit dance band.

A few years ago I was reading the obituary in the Daily Telegraph of a prominent song writer who had written themes for a number of T.V. programmes and shows, and had also featured as a lead saxophonist in various jazz bands and groups for some years.

His name was given as Chapman , which I did vaguely recognise ,but the obituary  also  recorded that this well known song writer and musician was born KEN SKINGLE  in 1924 and played in a number of Army dances during the war, he had change his name , as many famous celebrities continue to do .

It’s a small World

By Les Oswin