Rock ’n’ roll wrecked my poor band wagon

THE letter from Ian S. Clark about travelling with his band reminded me of my own experiences. In the late 1950s I was serving as a trumpet player with a military band in Catterick, North Yorkshire. During year two of my three years I purchased my first car, a 1936 Morris 8, four-door saloon with a sun roof.

With a weekly wage of £2 and 19 shillings, we bandsmen were thinking of how we might earn some beer and petrol money. Beer was two shillings a pint, and a gallon of petrol was half a crown, or two and six. It was around this time that rock ’n’ roll fever was gripping the nation, so five of us decided to jump on the bandwagon.

We formed a group consisting of me on trumpet, with the other four on accordion, tenor saxophone, drums and string bass. although poorly rehearsed and not so ‘au fait’ with rock ’n’ roll music, we managed to get three local village hall gigs.

This is where the little Morris 8 came into its own. loading was a rather scientific process.

First, I’d drop down the rear luggage rack and tie on the bass drum. Next, I’d get three guys into the rear seat, then open the sun roof and drop the string bass through the top with its upper half protruding and open to the elements. I would then prise bandsman number four into the front passenger seat, and thus proceed to add sundry instruments in and around all occupants — trumpet, accordion and sax cases, plus a snare drum and assortment of drummer’s paraphernalia.

This all produced a sight to behold when on the move, and it was good fortune that it did not rain or snow on any of our nights out!

As it happened, we did not get any repeat gigs as it dawned on us that we were unable to compete with the rock ’n’ roll guitarists with their voices and movements! Sad to say, with this sort of use, the poor little Morris 8 broke its back about a year later and had to be replaced.

Ian Orbell, Poole, Dorset.