I survived the horror of the Clydebank Blitz. After that, showbiz was a breeze!
At 95, TV legend Nicholas Parsons is THE celebrity survivor. But his f ight for stardom was forged in Scotland...
AT 95, Nicholas Parsons can look back on a career that includes theatre, film, television and an impressive six decades at the helm of BBC Radio 4’s Just A Minute. But it may come as a surprise to learn that the veteran entertainer credits much of his success to his wartime years on Clydeside.
As a teenager he worked as an apprentice marine engineer. He enjoyed amateur dramatics during his spare time.
And it was 78 years ago this week that he also witnessed the Clydebank Blitz. The Luftwaffe’s devastating raids killed 1,200 on Clydeside, 528 in Clydebank alone, and left only eight of 12,000 homes in the Dunbartonshire town undamaged.
Parsons, a member of the Home Guard, was on hand to free the injured from the rubble of collapsed tenements. Recalling the aftermath of those bombings on March 13 and 14, 1941, Parsons told The Scottish Mail on Sunday: ‘I was in Clydebank in the Blitz, fire watching with a student friend of mine.
‘The Blitz was devastating. Once those huge tenement buildings came down, they caused incredible devastation. It was an intensely horrific scene. I went down the next day to help the services get people out of the rubble and to try to clear a way through so people could get on with their lives and traffic could get through the roads.
IT was terribly emotional because the devastation was intense and you were just there to help the emergency services so that life could get back to something resembling normality.’ He added: ‘The Germans decided to blitz Clydebank and they did a pretty good job of blitzing it, but it recovered and because the Luftwaffe lost so many planes, they didn’t come back again.’
A year earlier, aged 16, he had been sent from his Oxfordshire home to begin an apprenticeship at pump firm Drysdale & Co because his GP father was determined to dash his hopes of pursuing an acting career.
‘I wanted to be an actor and my father told me not to be ridiculous, that it wasn’t a proper job,’ Parsons said. ‘He got in touch with some relatives in Scotland who got in touch with some friends, who spoke to somebody who knew the people who had an engineering yard called Drysdales.’
His Glaswegian workmates were initially suspicious of the posh English boy. ‘People talking sounded like gobbledegook to me and, not only that, I discovered they were using words that I had only seen on lavatory walls before, but I survived,’ Parsons said.
‘I think it was the embryonic actor in me, because if you are an actor and you walk onstage to do a solo show you need to make a rapport with that audience to get them on your side. I think I instinctively knew that if I was going to survive I had to make friends with them.
‘One time, they came to me and they said, “Hey, Nick, can we ask you a question? Are you a bosses’ man?” I felt I knew what was behind it and I said, “Oh, no. I don’t know the bosses at all”. Of course, I knew the bosses. They had got me the job.
‘The guys said, “Because you come here with that wah-wah accent of yours and we appreciate the work you do. You’re OK. You muck in and you’re prepared to get your hands dirty, but I’ve got to say to you if you were a bosses’ man you’d be finished. We’d probably crucify you.”
‘Can you imagine trying to work under those circumstances?’
His mother was also concerned about him being left in the company of ruffians.
Parsons laughed: ‘I said, “Mother, if I
didn’t get familiar with them and make them my friends I’d be coming back in a coffin”. So they became my mates.
‘It was another world. I mean, I came from a successful, professional middle-class family and there I was working in Clydebank. Somehow I survived.’
As well as taking part in amateur dramatics at night, he studied for an engineering degree at the University of Glasgow, but dropped out in his final year. ‘I didn’t have any money to have nights out. The war was on. I was living on rations,’ he said. ‘After a full day’s work, I’d hang on to the back of lorries and slip the driver a few bawbees to get into town. I’d go back to the digs on Sauchiehall Street opposite the old Empire, get changed and then do some theatre work.
‘Eventually my health gave way completely. I’d obviously been doing too much, getting up early in the morning and getting on the tram and going down to Yoker and Clydebank, doing heavy manual work and then rushing back home and getting cleaned up and going off and doing theatre work.
‘I was doing all those extra things and not getting enough nourishing food because the rationing was very severe. I think I drove myself on and my health just gave way completely. I had a lung problem and I was in hospital for three months convalescing.’
It was only after the war that his amateur dramatics experience led to professional acting roles. He made his debut in 1945 at London’s Aldwych Theatre in John Patrick’s play The Hasty Heart.
Parsons said: ‘After the war I realised my time on Clydeside had become an incredible groundwork for what came later.
‘I was kept sane by the incredible characters with whom I worked. The Clydeside people are a very special people, to my mind.’
Other roles followed, but presenting ITV’s quiz show Sale Of The Century from 1971 to 1983, with a peak audience of 21 million, made him a household name.
Having hosted Just A Minute in every decade since he took on the presenting role in 1967, he continues to stage one-man shows up and down the country, including at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe.
He does admit, however, to slowing down as he heads towards his centennial. ‘I’m 95. I like my work and I’m very flattered I can still do it,’ he said. ‘I’m a bit weak in the legs but my brain is working fine. I get a lot of work but I have to pace myself now.
‘I have a show I do around the country called Just A Laugh A Minute with Nicholas Parsons. It is a two-hour show and is very demanding. I can’t do it two nights running, I have to be sure I have the next day off.’
AS well as believing that his wartime experiences on the Clyde and the camaraderie of his workmates during his years there had a ‘deep influence’ on his life and career, Parsons wants to uncover his Scottish ancestry.
‘Going back, my family were named Allan and Black, two common Scottish names, and they are from the lowlands of Dumfriesshire. They were in the coal-mining industry.
‘I have these portraits of my Scottish ancestors framed and we have a family crest with a lot of Scottish connections on it. I’ve been meaning to do this for years, but before I die I really must go to the College of Heraldry and see if they can trace the family crest. That is something I’d really like to get around to.’
Unsurpisingly, however, he has no plans to reprise his work in the shipyards. ‘People joke to me that my time on Clydeside means I’ll always have something to fall back on, but I couldn’t fall back on it now.
‘But I remember it with great affection because of the wonderful people I worked with. The Clydesiders are exceptional human beings. They have such a stoicism and so much character.
‘Nowadays I look back to my days on Clydeside and, although it was tough, uncompromising and it was difficult and it was aggressive and arduous, in my mind I was privileged because I had that experience of life that very few people have ever had.
‘Showbusiness is full of an interesting mix of different characters and individuals. I’ve survived in that environment and I’m sure the grounding in Clydebank that I had was instrumental.
‘I’m sure it has stood me in incredible stead getting on with people of all kinds since. That raw experience was invaluable when I got into showbusiness.’