A Request Party On Tour

New Zealand Listener, Volume 8, Issue 196, 26 March 1943, Page 4

A Request Party On Tour

HE kitchen of a disused house, lit with only. one candle, +the room of an unfinished State house with unplastered ‘slat walls, a couple of army bunk huts, an old dance hall turned into sleeping quarters — any place with a roof on will do for an Army Education concert party when it goes by request to entertain soldiers at the smaller posts. We went with one of the small touring parties one evening a week or two after it had begun its work. "Defence Area-Keep Out!" met our eyes as our army car pulled up to

an ordinary gate that was once anybody’s thoroughfare. Inside, greeted by officers, we tumbled out of the car, and introduced ourselves through the party’s compére. "That’s Jim, and that big bag he’s got is his piano-accordion; that’s Yvonne, and that’s Doreen-they sing; that’s Wally-he sings, too. And this is a reporter from The Listener." A Novel Auditorium A room chosen for the entertainment had.perhaps seen the same sort of thing before-at all events it had a sort of stage at one end. Army office equipment had been pushed to the sides to make room for rows of chairs, which were soon full of soldiers; the artists assembled near the stage, and The Listener was comfortably seated, Only one thing remained-the Colonel. We all sprang to our feet as he entered, but that was the beginning and the end of formality. "Please sit down," he said, "and smoke-" and the concert began, Jim, a bright-eyed youngster of six feet got on to the "stage," and slung on to his shoulders a gigantic~ instrument -his piano-accordion, The thing resembles a huge, modern streamlined typewriter, only with a piano keyboard instead of QWERTYUIOP, ASDFG etc. It even has tabulator buttons, three red and three white — presumably "couplers." It is capable of an enormous volume of sound, and with its wide scope of varied effects it is just the instrument for such a mobile concert party as this one. At the end of a piece, if the instrument is extended, the player squeezes the air out again with a sound exactly like the hum you hear from a power pole by a country road on a still day. He began to play the latest popular tunes. By the time he got to In the Mood, feet were tapping, and the audience was beginning to get the feel of this new situation. A _ single naked electric light bulb above his head was a luxury to the accordionist, who in one other place had relied on a candle held close to such music as he had to read (in songs requiring accompaniment). After a few accordion items, it was time for the two girls of the party to do their turn. Such informal circumstances, and the mere factor of space, left no room for the conventional music hall compére, so our entertainers whispered their intentions to each other in the full hearing of everyone-"three verses this time, with the gag at the second" — and members of the audience began to feel as if they were enjoying things behind the scenes, Songs of Yearning Appealing to the nostalgia of men who spend their hours in gun-pits, at look-out points, at communication points, with limited leave the same as everyone else, the two girls sang of "A Simmery Summery Day": Give me a book that’s entertaining When I’m. lying in the hay To while awey the hours On a Simmery Summery day. (Continued on next page)

The NBS And Army Education

(Continued from previous page) The song might almost have been written expressly for Army Education use; .but the last chorus had a touch of irony: Ho hum! dreaming in the sun I’m a lucky one, it’s true. Ho hum! I’m not so very dumb I bet you'd like to dream there, too, Wild applause, and then it was Wally’s turn with songs of the "King’s Highway" type, delivered in a lusty baritone voice, and this was followed by a song of the boredom of a soldier who found that army life, or life in any of the forces, and even his post-war job, was nothing but: Bungin’ em in, and blowin’ ’em out. Then, according to 2 custom established by the concert party, the compére demanded that a member of the audience should perform'in some way.

"Come on, who’s it going to be?" he challenged them. There was a silence, then someone spoke up: "I saw Max and Harry doing a pretty good representation of the Organ Grinder’s Swing with a handle of the duplicator this afternoon." 3 But Max and Harry (we deliberately forget their real names), were suddenly coy, perhaps because of the Colonel, who was in the front row with his cigar, and the men had té be told that theirs was the first unit visited that had failed to entertain the entertainers. So’ there was a return to general singing, led by the accordion, with the soldiers naming their own requests. Wherever this concert party goes, enthusiasm is unbounded, and no invitation could be more earnesily extended than the "Come again soon!" of every unit we visited.