All out for 53.
or
The final farewell of the Band of HM Royal Marines Dartmouth - May 2009
A true story by Steve Savage aged 16 yrs, 4 months, 18 days plus a Service career including 803 haircuts, 5 Service ID cards, trips to 16 countries, 6 promotions, 3 tattoos, 4 broken bones,
1 stomach ulcer, 9 stitches but NO visits to the Captain’s Table!

In May this year I was fortunate to be invited to attend two events in Dartmouth to commemorate Dartmouth Band’s departure from the College. The initial event was a commemorative reception on the Quarterdeck of BRNC, which was to be preceded by a Beat Retreat on the Parade Ground. The second event was to be a march from the Naval College down to Coronation Park where the Band would perform a Beat Retreat, followed by the final opportunity for the Band to exercise the Freedom of Entry to the Town – awarded to them on 28 April 2004 – by marching through the town via Avenue Gardens to the Guildhall. Whilst it was impossible to invite everyone who had served in the Band over the years, a selection of former and serving Directors of Music, Bandmasters, Drum Majors and all other Ranks were invited spanning those who joined in the early 1950’s to those in the infancy of their careers. For most of us it was to turn out to be one hell of a reunion!
The first evening, we all met up in the College main corridor before being invited outside to witness the Beat Retreat. As we went outside, we moved away from the upper bridge to witness the event from the bridge steps or the upper sides of the ramps as the upper bridge is VIP territory. Amongst the VIPs attending that evening were; the Commandant General, Major General GS Robison (a former PT and sports Officer at BRNC back in the early ‘80s), Commodore JK Moore (the Commodore of the College and the Harbour Master of Teignmouth) and former Commander of BRNC Commander David Vaughan. As we stood there waiting for the display to start, Cdr Vaughan came over and invited some of us to witness the ceremony from the upper bridge – without doubt the best vantage point – the reason, he explained, was that it was a commemorative event for those who had served in the Band and that as far as he was concerned, he was ‘only a guest’. We ended up with an amazing view of the events, and I for one will always be grateful to him for that selfless invitation.

Despite the pressure of performing in front of potentially one of the most critical of all audiences, the Band – under the direction of Captain John Ridley and Drum Major ‘Flash’ Gordon – performed superbly and concluded the display by marching up the ramps and saluting the CGRM in front of the College buildings, whilst those assembled showed their grateful appreciation. We all then retired onto the Quarterdeck for a few glasses of red or white, although some had red and white…and some even had red and white in the same glass, but only in an attempt to make rosé I’m sure. It couldn’t possibly be the case that some of the merry throng gathered therein were trying to kick the backside out of the free bar. No, no, no. That would never happen.

This was the first real opportunity to chat to the guys and gals you had served with and indeed with some of those you hadn’t. As the canapés came around, much of the conversation was “Do you remember when…”, “What was that gig when…” or “Who was it who…”, the standard stuff of reunions. It got me thinking about my first gigs in Dartmouth and I remembered that Bob Gibbs and I were drafted from the RMSM a couple of months early in order to take part in the Lord High Admiral’s Divisions to be attended by Queen Elizabeth, The Queen Mother way back in April 1981. I then remembered the first two gigs I did outside of Dartmouth.
The first one was the Birmingham Tulip Festival, although I can’t remember seeing a single tulip anywhere. As well as a Bandstand gig each day, we had to do a Beat Retreat directly after the White Helmets motorcycle display team but in between the two we had lunch in a marquee set up nearby. Two things stick in mind. The first was lunch. Pie, chips and beans – the traditional fare of this type of event of course, unfortunately the pies became affectionately known as ‘lung’ pies due to the various bits of animal’s inner workings found therein. Now, we were used to dodgy food but the coach driver wasn’t and as we were poking and prodding our pies making out that bits of it were still breathing, our driver made his apologies, rushed outside and threw up! He brought sandwiches the next day. The second thing I remember was the Beat Retreat on the second day. There had been a remarkably heavy shower that had turned the arena into a mud bath and whilst I understand that this is stuff of Band Service myth and legend, I can honestly say that it was announced that the conditions were too bad for the White Helmets to perform and so the Band would go on instead! Bearing in mind the shocking downpour it’s no surprise that we actually performed to 3 old blokes and a dog, and I seem to remember that the slow march was an interesting combination of semi-laughter and ice-skating! Being damp and very muddy, all we wanted to do after the display was to get back to where we were staying. One bright spark got chatting to a couple of motor cycle cops and asked them what the chances were of getting a Police escort across town as time was getting on. Not a problem it transpired. We had three motorcycle outriders on the way back all with ‘blues and twos’ blaring. We jumped every red light and went straight across every junction. How the good people of Brum waved as they thought that we were really important; maybe we were the City football heroes racing across town to get to a charity function. How we waved back, laughing as we knew we were just a bunch of hacked off Bandies who just wanted to get back to the pub in time for last orders! If only they knew the truth!

The second gig I did was a major Church Parade in Derby followed by a concert in the Assembly Rooms that afternoon. Admiralty weather had obviously been booked and the church parade was one of the wettest gigs I had ever taken part in, once the RNR liaison officer told us we had to go on anyway. After the parade had finished, we went on to the Assembly Rooms for lunch, at which point the well known phrase “What Band?” was heard followed swiftly by the phrase “What lunch?”. They managed to find a chef and get the kitchen up and running, but they only managed to cook about 4 meals before we were due on stage, leaving the majority of us starving. As the liaison officer introduced the Band he told the audience that we might not be on top form but we would try our best bearing in mind we were soaking wet and had had no dinner! Anyway, on to the stage we came, began playing and then started to steam nicely under the lights. When the Corps of Drums came on it was like a scene from ‘Brigadoon’! I wouldn’t like to criticise our performance that afternoon, but at BRNC from that day forward, ‘Cornet Carillon’ was affectionately known as ‘Cornet Carry on’ for very good reasons! Afterwards we all left the stage, still hungry but lightly poached.

With an introduction like that, I wondered what on earth the Band Service had in store for me during my career in Dartmouth. After 17 years there, various other incidents stick in my memory such as: The Jack Russell, the swimming pool and the ‘La Coie’ hotel in Jersey; The antics of Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dummer; Biffy the Hamster; The one-legged Swedish General; The ‘Oompah Band gig; The strange incident of the cheese; The Paignton Remembrance gig; Spider’s birthday run; Our attempt to make homebrew; The Miss Plymouth gig and many, many others, but I’ll wait until I publish my memoirs. However, for those who are implicated in the above tales, names will be changed to protect the guilty! Oh, and I am open to bribery!

Everyone attending the reception had their own memories of their time in Dartmouth and all had their own stories to tell. As the evening went on, the most palpable thing across the Quarterdeck was that as the wine went down, the volume of laughter went up.

All good things come to an end and after speeches, a multitude of thanks and various presentations, the College reception was over. Thankfully the pubs were still open so we just carried on… and on… and on! During the evening I was having a chat with Captain Jon Ridley and I happened to ask him whether or not the Band would be playing the ‘normal’ as they pass the Ship in Dock pub. To which Jon said that it wouldn’t be possible as the Police had to dictate their route down to Coronation Park. To be honest, whilst I understood the position from the Police and security perspective, I was more than a little disappointed. You see, it’s long been a tradition that when the Band march from the College into the town, they bear right at the island at the bottom of College Way and break into ‘Colonel Bogey’ as they pass the Ship in Dock. This apparently began many years ago when the then landlord, Bob Downs, requested the march promising to get the guys a beer if it was played. As a result the tradition was born; however, the free pint concept died a fairly rapid death! One particular year, our new Boss, Lt Rod Starr, wanted to change the order of music for the Mayor’s Parade and said that it wouldn’t really matter if ‘Colonel Bogey’ wasn’t played on that occasion. Various members of the Band respectfully mentioned to the goodly Director that his idea was maybe not the wisest; however, the decision had been made. The Parade went without a hitch and Rod’s own composition, ‘Ventis Secundis’ seemed to go down well as it was played whilst passing the aforementioned pub. He’d done it! The town could cope without 'Colonel Bogey’ after all! After the event and to celebrate the success, Rod visited the Ship in Dock. He went to the bar to order his drink and was promptly barred! Funny old thing though, we always played ‘Colonel Bogey’ after that!!

The evening came to an end once we’d reached the joined up talking stage and the pubs kicked out, so we all headed back to our accommodation. As it happens I was staying in the College but right up the top of the hill. Somehow the walk back from town seemed effortless that evening… gave me a blinding headache in the morning though.

The following day, a few of us who could face it met up for a swift ‘dampner’ at the Floating Bridge pub prior to witnessing the Beat Retreat in Coronation Park. It was an unseasonably warm and sunny day and so we gathered across the road overlooking the river to finish our beers and take in the view that I for one can never tire of. Bearing in mind we were all pretty much in suits and sunglasses and many of the local populace were in T shirts and jeans, it must have looked a bit like a Mob reunion. Well, a Mob reunion and their coach driver. The legend that is Bob Gibbs was very smartly attired in grey flannels and a blazer adorned with numerous badges of one sort or another, the traditional dress of many 1980’s coach drivers if memory serves me correct. But this was not any old blazer Dear Reader, oh no. As a member of the local British Legion and Chairman of the RNA, Bob – with the aid of strips of Velcro and bits of cardboard, developed a blazer that allows the wearer to change the crest on the pocket depending what society he’s representing and to add or remove medals in the blink of an eye – the only thing missing was an inner pouch for storing his beret and gauntlets! Anyway, Bob proudly demonstrated his pride and joy with those around him looking on in awe – if looking on in awe means ‘to gaze in disbelief and laugh like idiots’. Why? Because during his demonstration he ripped off the velcro by accident thus rending his creation useless! Despite this setback, Bob has a history of being inventive. No-one takes ‘make and mend’ to the next level quite like Bob, as was illustrated when, due to an oversight whilst packing for a gig one day, he constructed a complete white belt and brasses out of a glossy poster, some card, a bootlace and a Benson and Hedges fag packet! And he got away with it!
As we finished off our beers, and Bob pondered how to mend his blazer, the sound of the Band drifted down the hill and across the river. To my surprise and delight, the Band headed up the right hand side of the island and broke into ‘Colonel Bogey’ just before the Ship in Dock as they had done many times over the years. It was, for many of us who knew of the much performed yet unwritten tradition, a very poignant moment. Having entered Coronation Park the Beat Retreat began in front of a large crowd. Again the performance was top drawer and maybe it was the occasion but in my humble opinion I had rarely heard a Royal Marines Band sound better.

Steve Savage (centre)enjoys a beer overlooking the River Dart whilst Bob Gibbs (left) models his coach driver look and Stu Thorn (right) points at Bob's grey flannels stating "They're sooooooooo 1980s!".

The crowds cheered and applauded as the Band marched off and the majority proceeded to follow the Band down the town. The march to Avenue Gardens and the presentation of the Freedom Scroll to the Royal Marines Museum (the scroll being an intricate work of art produced by local councillor and Devon scribe, Melvyn Stone) was also a poignant moment for me as I had the honour of receiving the scroll on behalf of the Band and carrying it through the town when the Band was awarded the Freedom of Dartmouth on 28 April 2004. This time though, WO1 Bdmr Sid Davis would be the scroll carrier and during a conversation the previous night he asked me if I had any tips for carrying it. I came up with three. Firstly, the scroll is set in a frame, which tends to catch the wind and so in order to avoid it being blown out of his hands, I suggested that he lift it slightly and tuck the upper edge under his chin to avoid any accidents. Secondly, I suggested that he had someone with him after the event to act as a ‘bat man’ as the scroll is fairly heavy and when I finished the march last time around, my hands were almost locked into position and I had to get someone else to undo my boots and do up my civvy shoes! Thirdly, I advised him that given the limitations outlined in the second tip, he should make sure he goes to the lav before the Parade starts!

Once in situ, it was over to the Mayor of Dartmouth, Councillor Mrs Debbie Morris, who gave a very moving speech thanking all those who had been a member of the Band over the years for the contribution they had made to the local community and of course how sorry the town was that the Band was moving on. This was followed by a reply from the Principal Director of Music, Lt Col Nick Grace who explained the reasons behind the Band’s move and also how the Band Service would continue to support engagements in Dartmouth if it was at all possible. Finally he went on to thank the Mayor, the local dignitaries, but most importantly, the people of Dartmouth who have so eagerly welcomed those who served in the Band into the local community without reservation, and who have supported the Band Service in all respects for so many years. Whilst I fully appreciate the politics and the internal machinations behind the Band’s move, it saddens me that the opportunity for Band Service personnel to work in and to be a part of this extraordinary community will no longer be an option. That to me is the greatest loss of all. After the speeches, the Freedom scroll was handed over to representatives of the Royal Marines Museum at Eastney, safe in the knowledge that the scroll would have pride of place in the Band Service’s own display room. The ceremony complete, the Band led the Civic dignitaries back to the Guildhall.

What really surprised me about the day’s events was the level of public support shown to the Band. Amongst the crowds at the Beat Retreat, I met locals who for as long as I’d known them had been generally ambivalent about the Band, but at the Band’s historic final performance in the town they turned out to watch and to listen. They cheered and applauded after the display. They cheered and applauded as the Band marched through the town and they cheered and applauded as the final strains of ‘Auld Lang Syne’ played by what they consider to be THEIR Band drifted into the ether. Essentially, that is the legacy that 53 years of the Royal Marines Band, Dartmouth, has left behind and all those who have ever been a part of it should be justifiably proud.
At the Guildhall, a few (more) light libations ensued and after some lovely grub, a few more speeches, and loads more ‘reunioning’, the festivities came to an end and so many of the guys and gals decided to take the rare opportunity of going on a rig run around the town. More beer would be drunk, more stories would be told and a good time would be had by all before everyone ventured into the night and went their separate ways. Just as I left the Guildhall, I bumped into an ex-Bandy who shook hands and stopped to have a chat. During our conversation he said “What a shame we didn’t get a chance to meet up yesterday”. I would have agreed, but for the fact that I’d spent an hour and a half talking to him in the George and Dragon the night before! So, not only was a good time had by all, but it would appear that an even better time was had by some!