HAZEL
TINGLEY (nee
Johnson)
Memories of My 1961 Summer Season as a Butlins Skegness Redcoat [written in conjunction with web-host 'A.J' Marriot] . While working for Max factor in ‘Derry & Toms,’ South Kensington, London, I made
friends with a
girl called Jerry, who worked for another cosmetic company. I felt very
disappointed when she told me that she would soon be leaving to go to
Butlins
Skegness to work a summer season as a Redcoat, as she was great fun.
When she
suggested that I might like to become a Redcoat too, I jumped at the
chance.
She said it was difficult to get in, but she could organise an
interview for me
at the Butlins head office in Oxford Street, London, with the
Entertainment
Manager, Frank Mansell. And so it was that, in April 1961, I went to
Skegness
and became a Redcoat.
.
First
thing every
morning we would go to the Entertainment Office to get our list of
duties for
the day. We would be on duty from breakfast time until 11 pm, when the
entertainment closed with the Redcoats singing “Good Night Campers” in
the
ballroom.
It was a long
day, but I loved every minute of it. Part of our duties was organising
the
campers into teams, for the week’s games and sporting competitions.
They would
be split into “Houses.” The house you were in was governed by which of
the dining rooms
you were allocated to, which were as follows: Gloucester, Kent,
Connaught, Warwick,
Windsor and Edinburgh.
On Sunday morning, the Redcoats would lead their allocated house in a parade which was, of course, deliberately staged to initiate the rivalry.
The points each house scored in all the weekly activities, games, and competitions, was tallied up and the winning house was declared on the Friday. I discovered that I was very competitive, and I made sure that my team always won. Well, at least, I tried to. .
We would eat in
the same dining room as the campers; celebrate birthdays and
anniversaries with
them; make a fuss of their children; and were often asked for our
autographs (fame at last).
.
My favourite event was
performing in the weekly
Redcoat Show. At last I was on stage dancing, singing, and taking part
in
sketches, all of which was tremendous fun.
In one of the sketches our camp comedian, Freddie, came on stage looking immaculate in evening dress and started to tell jokes. He didn’t get very far, as members of the cast kept coming on stage interrupting him saying things like: “Hey Freddie! that’s my tie you’re wearing, give it back.” Or: “Hey, that’s my jacket,” or “ … those are my trousers,” so Freddie was slowly getting stripped as he handed over all the pieces of clothing he had supposedly borrowed. Eventually, he was left standing on stage wearing only a pair of very brightly coloured cotton shorts. That’s when I came on with a towel around my waist and a very bright cotton bikini top, which matched the shorts Freddie was wearing. All I said was: “Hey Freddie,” which immediately prompted a stage blackout. I
also helped
Freddie out with another show he performed in called: “Give That Man a
Cocoanut.”
Can’t remember what it was all about, but I know it involved a great
deal of
audience participation, and had everyone in stitches.
About three weeks
before the
end of the season I broke my arm. I was standing beside a trampoline
when the
accident happened. A rather large man looked as if he was going to
fall, so automatically
I put my arms out to save him and he fell on my left arm. Thankfully, I
was
allowed to stay on in my job, doing “selective” duties. I learned later
that
many Redcoats who were similarly incapacitated through injury, were
sent home,
so I bless Frank Mansell for allowing me to stay.
.
After getting
through the difficulties of those three weeks during which I was
nursing that broken
arm, the end of season brought another problem. It was going to be very
difficult for me getting home on the train, trying to carry my suitcase
with one
arm in plaster. Luckily, Freddie offered me a lift back to Surrey, as
he was
going on to Sussex to work a winter season at the Brighton Ocean Hotel.
What a
relief. But fate moves in mysterious ways. In the last week of
the 1961
season the Talent Show winners, from all of the camps, come to Skegness
to
compete in the final. On this particular day I was sitting in the café,
having
a coffee with some of the musicians who were in the competition, when
Freddie
came up to me and said: “Sorry Hazel, I can’t take you home because
Frank
Mansell is now sending me to Blackpool instead of Brighton.” One of the chaps,
Vince,
said to me: “Where do you live Hazel?”
When
I said “Reigate, Surrey,” he said: “Oh! Hugh here lives near there.
He’ll give
you a lift home. You’ll be safe with him,” and, by one almost
unbelievable
twist of fate, that is how I met my future husband. Hugh kindly took me
and my
luggage all the way back to Reigate. He later confessed that he had had
his eye on
me for a few days, but was a bit shy in coming forward, and was
grateful to
Vince for suggesting it. He was hoping for some lively conversation on
the way
home but, disappointingly for him, I was sound asleep for most of the
journey.
In my defence, there had been a very late Redcoat end-of-season party
the night
before. When he managed to
wake me
up he invited me to go with him to Ken Collier’s Jazz Club the
following
Thursday. Hugh ran his own dance band, called ‘The Tonics,’ but here at
this Thursday
night gig he played double-bass in the ‘Ken Hine Jazz Band.’ I knew from early on in our relationship that he was the one for me, and it wasn’t long before he put an engagement ring on my finger. That was the second “lift” he had given me, and there have been many more during all our years together.
With sincere gratitude Hazel Johnson |
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