Where are they now?

George Boardman RMB 131205

George Boardman and his Cello

After the Second World War, many professional musicians chose to complete their National Service as 'Hostilities Only' musicians with the Royal Marines Band Service. George Boardman fondly remembers his time and tells the Blue Band of his recollections.

It was a great honour to be asked by the Editor Captain Andy Henderson to take part in a 'Where Are They Now' article for the Blue Band. I really didn't think that I would be remembered 50 years on, but I suppose if you have been associated with such likeable rogues as Musn Tony Mundy (oboe, french horn and concert hall sweeper), whose finger mysteriously disappeared one weekend, or Musn Baines (double bass) who always seemed to know better than the Doctors how to treat wounds and had a mini medical centre in his locker, or even Trevor Wye (flute) the only person I know who could swing his leg out of time to the music and whose tunic buttons were strung up with cotton - one pull and they all came down; it seems unlikely that one can be forgotten. It was September 1954 when I arrived in Deal to commence my National Service, a young innocent lad of 21 leaving home for the first time and wondering what I had got myself into. I chose the Royal Marines simply because I was interested in sailing! My father had been in the Navy during the War and as I had just embarked on a musical career as a cellist at the Royal Manchester College of Music the Band Service seemed the ideal choice.

I remember making friends with Merv Haines (oboe) and Roger Ladds (a baritone singer) and both of us being taken to the barbers for the shortest back and sides that we'd ever had. We were good pals throughout but lost touch after leaving the service. I would love to see them both again. I had many memorable times during training. The day one of the squad walked into a heap of coal, I could not believe it when the same person was asked to paint each piece white! Another memory was marching in a squad to the sound of the band. I never could get used to the delayed action that seemed to occur between the front of the squad and the rear and whenever I got towards the back, found myself out of step. I was removed from the squad and yelled at by the RSM: "CALL YOURSELF A MUSICIAN", and then made to march round the parade ground alone! Of course I found this no problem, just myself and the band marching together. I also remember a time when I was guard orderly and one of my tasks was to lower the flag on South Barracks parade. I was briefed by the Bugler that he would march 10 paces forward and when he started to blow I had to commence lowering the flag and try to time its journey down the pole to coincide with the end of the call. Yes you've guessed it, the halyard jammed and after quite a bit of swearing on his part we both pulled so hard that flag, rope and pulley came down on top of us.

On completion of initial training I joined the orchestra in Deal but as I didn't double up on another instrument my chances of playing with the military band on parade were very slim. I do remember though on the few occasions I went into Parade Band being put on cymbals. This wasn't too successful as I found great difficulty slow marching in anything above a Force 2. Even without an instrument I seemed to find myself moving my left arm with my left leg. I eventually concentrated on Cello playing and was one day asked by Sir Vivian Dunn to play the first movement of the Haydn Concerto at a forthcoming concert. I remember the problems involved in finding a good practise place away from the communal room in south barracks and having to write a chit out requesting permission to practise in the Launderette, the only place available at the time. Boy did I sweat! However, it was a wonderful experience and the thrill of playing in front of an orchestra for the first time as soloist is one I shall never forget. I was quite surprised though after the performance when Colonel Dunn congratulated me, but pointed out the one thing that marred the performance was my belt - it was too loose. It was in fact the only way I could reach the high notes! I blotted my copybook still further, when invited back to Vivian Dunn's house after the concert he asked what I would like to drink? I replied "a pint of scrumpy please". It was really the only drink I knew of then and didn't realise everybody else was ordering G and Ts or Whiskey.

I made many friends during the regular concert series, both in the orchestra and the audience and one night after a concert I was presented with an ivory toothpick in the shape of a violin. I have still got it and would love to hear from the mother and daughter who gave it to me. I was grateful also for the opportunity to play in many ensembles with fellow musicians both in and out of barracks. On one occasion playing in the Grand Hotel Deal with Patrick (Errol) Flynn, (who incidentally I bumped into in the Palace Theatre Manchester not too long ago conducting the Festival Ballet), and Paul Neville, we had a gentleman come up to us during the interval who told us that he was the Principal cellist of the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra and that he was over here to give a Wigmore Hall recital. We certainly concentrated harder in the 2nd half, it just goes to show you never know who is going to be in the audience.

After leaving the Band Service, I went back to the Royal Manchester College of Music for a further year's refresher course before joining the Halle Orchestra under Sir John Barbirolli. I recall the wage was £13.50 per week which seemed huge after the £2.50 National Service pay. Whilst it was a great experience to play with Barbirolli, travelling the world and playing in some of the finest concert halls, it was also a very exhausting time trying to keep up with the Halle schedule. Regular Manchester concerts, Sheffield and Bradford most weekends throughout the winter months, and sitting in coaches till 3 am after concerts eventually took their toll (I suspect it is still just like that in the modern Band Service). It was because of this work load that I decided to leave and spend a happy two months ploughing the Atlantic on the QE 1 playing in a Quintet. I remember well my last concert with the Halle in the Albert Hall. Barbirolli called me into his room and said why are you leaving me? When I explained that I really wanted more time to myself to be able to practice, he remarked "Practice my boy? You should get up at 5am like I do!"

I freelanced for a further 8 years 1965/73 and thoroughly enjoyed my time. I was invited on many tours and Festivals: tours to America, Hong Kong and Europe and the Daytona Beach Festival. On one such tour to Hong Kong with the Halle, Nigel Kennedy was the soloist and ever good for a laugh he and the principal cellist decided to busk outside the Kowloon ferry near HMS Tamar. One member of the public was heard to remark, "you two are very good, you're almost good enough to be playing with that Halle band tonight". On another occasion Rostropovitch came to the BBC Philharmonic to play the Don Quixote. Our principal cellist at the time bowed very thoroughly all the cello parts so that they were in unison with the soloist. When the great maestro arrived all his strings were literally loose, as if he'd not played for days. He tuned up and played like a dream, having fun and games with us each time we rehearsed by doing completely the opposite bowings. Freelancing also gave me a chance to play such varied music with some of the world's finest conductors; Monteaux, Dorati, Haitink, Kempe, Boult and Sargent and renowned soloists such as Rostropovich, Menuhin, Fournier, Tortelier, David Oistrakh and many others. Not forgetting of course Shirley Bassey, Tony Bennett and Olivia Newton-John who were always a joy to play with in their own particular style. I think this is where my experience with the RM Band Service helped me to enjoy and play all types of music. As the saying goes, "there are only two kinds, good and bad".

In 1972 I got married, a somewhat late starter (I gather they had a minute's silence for me on the Halle coach). When our first child was born in 1973 I decided that not having a permanent job was too risky so I joined the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra that year. I have enjoyed all aspects of my career and look forward now to semi-retirement. I have still 10 pupils to keep me occupied, a lovely wife who teaches Suzuki violin and 3 lovely children, all of whom are involved in music in some way.

For those of you still in the Band Service treasure your time - it only happens once - and of the many friends you have now some will remain with you for the rest of your lives. Always aim high and don't wait for positions to come to you. Go for them.

I am delighted to have been asked to write this article and would like to send my warmest and sincere greetings to any old friends who may read it.

George Boardman during a trip to China