‘It’s the closest I’ve come to being a celebrity’

CHALKY CHAWNER-LILLEY, 41, is a teaching assistant and lives in Grimsby with his wife Marian, 45, and their daughters Rosie, ten, and Poppy, eight. He worked at Butlin’s in Skegness between 1998 and 1999 and in 2006

When I first applied to become a Redcoat in 1998, I had no idea that it would lead to my future wife. It’s a job that will always hold a special place in my heart. I spent three seasons at Butlin’s in Skegness – or ‘Skegvegas’ as we called it – and met Marian at the on-site nightclub, Reds, during my last stint. She was there as a guest and I was running the club, DJing and introducing celebrity acts. Six months later, I got down on one knee in front of 2,000 guests while dressed as Princess Leia – it was a 70s-themed weekend – and proposed to her. The crowd went wild. Thankfully she said yes!

Being a Redcoat was the closest I’ve ever come to feeling like a celebrity. The on-site shop sold photos of us and guests would ask us to sign them. If I nipped into Skegness on my day off, I’d be recognised in the street. For an average bloke from Birmingham, it was surreal.

A big part of our role was ‘swanning’ which was basically socialising with guests – going from table to table at mealtimes, having a drink with them in the bar in the evening, and dancing. I’d lead the crowd doing the ‘Macarena’ or ‘Saturday Night’ by Whigfield. It was a big deal to have a Redcoat sit down with you, and we knew it. We were under strict instructions to mingle as much as possible, so lots of guests got to spend time with us. It felt amazing to be so popular.

One of my favourite parts of the job was working with the famous acts who came to perform. I met everyone from Keith Harris and Orville to Chesney Hawkes and Boney M. I’d look after them backstage and introduce them to the audience. Ironically, it was my love of hanging out with the acts that ultimately marked the end of my time at Butlin’s. In 2007, I partied a bit too hard with Vanilla Ice, drinking shots backstage before his performance. Not only did I not stop the stage invasion which then happened, I was too drunk to introduce the headline act East 17 later that night. I was sacked and frogmarched off the site!

In 2019, I took Marian and our daughters to Skegness for a family holiday to mark our tenth wedding anniversary back where it all began. I loved showing them where I spent some brilliant – and at times wild – years of my life.

DAWN CARTER, 50, is a teaching assistant and lives in Hertfordshire with her husband and twin sons. She worked at Butlin’s in Pwllheli, North Wales, in 1991

Standing at the front of a coach, singing along to ‘Summer Holiday’ with a crowd of excited Butlin’s holidaymakers I’d just collected from the local train station, I was in my element. I’d always loved performing and my job as a Redcoat allowed me to do it day in, day out.

My favourite duty was ‘calling’ the games of bingo. It was taken seriously by the guests and if I called a number wrong or got the giggles, I’d be booed! I also loved the Donkey Derby, where children raced donkeys and the adults bet on the winner. It always had the feel of a sports day.

I started work in February 1991 – the camp was busy all year round with school trips and special themed weekends. The 80s band Black Lace played every week, and I’d be invited on to the stage to perform ‘Agadoo’ with them, which was brilliant fun. On a 60s weekend, I was tasked with driving the Jordanaires – Elvis’s former backing group – to their hotel. The minibus was surrounded by screaming fans, banging the windows. Looking back, it was a bit scary for a 21-year-old girl!

The uniform at that time was the only bittersweet part of being a Redcoat. It had been designed by Zandra Rhodes, and it was a thrill to wear something ‘designer’, but the fitted dress and tight pencil skirt just weren’t very practical. I still remember how uncomfortable the red stilettos were. I much preferred the long shorts and trainers we were allowed to wear for sporty activities. We were warned not to leave our red coats outside to dry because guests were known to steal them – they were a coveted holiday trophy – and we’d have to replace them out of our pretty meagre wages.

Even now, if I mention to someone that I was a Redcoat they are impressed. It’s a privilege to have been a part of British holiday history.

Butlin’s Holiday Camp 1982 by Barry Lewis is published by Hoxton Mini Press online, price £16.95, hoxtonminipress.com