Fireman Dave, the bandsman who set world records

MY NICKNAME for my husband Dave was Merlin. He just made things happen, like a wizard.

We met at the fire station at Dudley in the West Midlands. I was in charge of the control room handling 999 calls and Dave was a firefighter.

We married in 1977, the year of the Silver Jubilee, and many years later Dave met the Queen when she presented him with an MBE. I couldn’t have been more proud of him as a chauffeur from the London Fire Brigade picked us up from the station and drove us to the Palace.

The award recognised the huge amounts Dave raised for charity.

I don’t know where he got the idea, but in 1984 he announced he was going to set up a concert band in which local firefighters could play in aid of good causes.

People thought he was crazy. He played the piano, but had no experience of running such an outfit, and many of those he recruited had never handled an instrument before. But he got in touch with Boosey & Hawkes, the London music shop, and persuaded them to lend the band instruments.

So the Band of the West Midlands Fire Service was formed, with Dave as musical director. While they rehearsed on their borrowed trumpets and tubas on Wednesday nights, despite working for up to 96 hours in some weeks, Dave wrote to companies until finally he got sponsorship so they could buy their own instruments.

The band’s many appearances

included the Lord Mayor’s Show in London, the Birmingham International Tattoo and tennis tournaments at the Royal Albert Hall.

One concert in Birmingham raised thousands of pounds for the charity Muscular Dystrophy UK. On stage that night, Dave presented a cheque to its patron, the film star Richard Attenborough.

The band also got into the 1988 Guinness Book of World Records for a marathon concert lasting 102 hours, 43 minutes and 43 seconds. Anneka Rice and DJ David ‘Diddy’ Hamilton were among the celebrities who took turns conducting while I helped ferry food and drink to the band and Dave shouted ‘Keep your eyes open!’ at anyone in danger of dropping off.

After he’d retired, Dave and I spent many happy holidays in our caravan and later a motorhome. I don’t think there’s anywhere in Europe he hasn’t towed a van.

He also enjoyed painting watercolours. His creativity seemed never-ending, but the band was his proudest achievement. He reckoned it had raised more than a million pounds for charities.

As an officer, Dave always went into a building first to check it was safe for his men — without breathing apparatus if there wasn’t time to put it on. I’ve often wondered if that led to the lung cancer from which he died.

His legacy lives on because the band is still playing today.

DAVID REEVES, born May 24, 1940, died April 29, 2016, aged 75.