Remembering Rediffusion (Hong Kong) Limited

Excerpt from “Pete - the Memoirs of Peter Hammond”
Episode 12: Hong Kong
July 1958 - September 1966 Page 1

I immediately set in train attempts to secure work elsewhere in the Colony, but my lack of officially recognised qualifications and the fact that I was considered too old to "start at the bottom" as a trainee frustrated one application after the other. Among the vacancies I vainly applied for were: manager of Hong Kong's future City Hall, head of the Light Music Department at Radio Hong Kong and executive officer in the Hong Kong Government Trade and Industry Department. My only somewhat limited success was with Rediffusion (Hong Kong), where I was taken on as one of the station's part-time audio continuity announcers.

On 8th June 1960 I experienced my first typhoon, code-named "Mary". As I was on announcing duty at Rediffusion that evening I had to break into the pre-recorded programmes to broadcast the standard typhoon warnings, information on interruptions in the Colony's public transport services and frequent up-to-the-minute weather reports. After station closedown at midnight I joined some of my Chinese colleagues in the bar of the Luk Kwok Hotel, which was adjacent to Rediffusion House and where the Company had arranged for them to be put up for the night. (This was the hotel where the legendary Wanchai prostitute
Suzy Wong had once worked and where she had got to know the author of the book of that name) After an hour or so I decided to brave the storm and make a dash for my Volkswagen. The gale-force winds, besides whipping up torrential rain and uprooting trees, were also hurling an assortment of deadly projectiles through the air, including heavy signboards wrenched from their brackets outside shops and bars. In places I had to drive through kneedeep puddles of water to get to Happy Valley. It seemed a miracle that I got home unscathed although later that night, as my car stood parked outside Paramount Apartments, its sliding
roof did suffer a direct hit and was torn open! The following day my Pekinese neighbour, Miss Ying Lang, who worked as secretary to the BBC's Far East correspondent Anthony Lawrence, got me to drive her and her boss through the aftermath of the typhoon on an inspection tour. "Not enough blood to make Radio Newsreel" was his resigned comment!

As I gradually assimilated the shock of the Blake revelations, it was at least comforting to register the welcome signs of recovery in my finances, brought about by complementing my day-time civil service duties with those of a part-time Rediffusion audio announcer in the evenings and at weekends. Rediffusion House, a modern six-storey building overlooking the Wanchai waterfront, accommodated the studios from which the Company’s three audio networks, as well as its fledgling television service, were "piped" by cable to subscribers throughout the Colony. (The "Gold" network broadcast in Mandarin, the "Silver" network in
Cantonese and the "Blue" network in English. There was just one television channel which provided programmes in both English and Cantonese) Through my duties with the Blue network I met colleagues working in other departments; and I soon resolved to apply for a transfer to the television service. Inter-departmental rivalry, however, had led to Management stipulating that Television should not poach from the "Blue" network; and it was not until mid-1961 that I finally succeeded in being offered a contract as a locally employed part-time television announcer.
At that time a new television "Controller" (named Marc Millar) had just been brought in from the UK for a twelve-months tour of duty with a brief to put the service onto a more professional footing. He insisted there were to be only two announcers (David Perkins and myself) whose duty schedules would alternate fortnightly as follows: Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday of one week; then Saturday and Sunday; and then Thursday and Friday of the following week. We were required to do our own make-up and to be ready to appear before camera by 1800 hours. The main 15-minute news in English was broadcast at 2100 hours; and we had to remain on hand until the station’s close down (at any time between 2315 and 0200), when the English announcer would appear seated beside his Chinese partner to present the "Late Night Final" news headlines.
Before long Marc Millar (who had the weird habit of addressing us as "dearie"!) began scouting round for interesting people in town for us to interview "live" in the studio immediately following the 2100 hours news. As we only found out when coming on duty at 1800 hours whether an interview had been arranged for that evening, it was well-nigh impossible for us to do any prior research or preparation, which was sometimes rather unnerving! During late 1961 and early 1962 it fell to me to interview the following personalities: the motor-racing driver Alistair Stewart; the Austrian "Tibetologist" and author Heinrich Harrar (fortunately I had read a book of his while in BMH!); a golf "pro" named Reg Knight; the Lord Mayor of Sydney, Alderman Harry Jenson; David Shepherd, an artist working for the British Forces; the Shakespearean actor Geoffrey Kendall; the Honourable J S Marshall, Deputy Prime Minister of New Zealand; the well-known local lawyer Brook Bernachi; and Nancy Spain of the BBC programme "My Word". After my interview with Nancy Spain Marc Millar complained that I had not asked her about her professional work or her future plans; to which I replied that, as I had not lived in the UK for ages, I knew little about her and would have appreciated some guidance.
From then on other presenters, including a "Blue" network disc jockey, were roped in to conduct television interviews after the 9 o'clock news. The disc jockey was actually extremely good, especially when confronted with "show biz" personalities like Eartha Kitt and Danny Kaye. On one occasion, during an interview with Artur Rubinstein, he found himself treading slightly delicate ground when he decided to ask the great master to name some of the World’s most popular, up-and-coming concert pianists! Rubinstein replied scathingly: "eef you dornt mind, my dear Sir, concert pianeests are naught race horses!" On another evening, while swapping places with me after the news, he hurriedly introduced me to a woman he'd brought in to the studio for an interview named Ursula Andress. Having until then never heard of this illustrious Hollywood superstar and, at a loss for anything more astute to say, I asked her in all innocence what she did for a living! While on the subject of putting up "blacks": it would be hard to beat the one I perpetrated on the night of Sunday, 10th December 1961. It was due to a simple typing error in the studio log, which showed that day’s "Late Night Final" as beginning at 2338 hours. So, at roughly 2315 hours I sauntered down to the teleprinter on the third floor to collect the latest news items for my final performance of the day. As I stood reading the "take" I became aware of the "Late Night Final" theme music echoing through the empty offices. Producers sometimes checked the sound for the next item, so I didn’t sense anything wrong - until I caught sight of the "Late Night Final" visual display on one of the third floor monitors! Hearing the music start again from scratch I suddenly panicked and rushed up the two flights of stairs to the news studio on the fifth floor like greased lightning. There I found the Producer’s hair standing on end, while little Jo-Jo, my Chinese partner, seemed on the verge of a heart attack! Completely out of breath I threw myself into the presenter’s chair and, on looking up, was horrified to see the little red light indicate I was already on camera! "Good evening!" I spluttered, fighting for
breath, "here....is....the late news.....". If I’d had my wits about me I’d have got up and walked off the set; but I just sat glued to my seat and tried desperately to read my text, while hoping the Producer would fade me out! At the conclusion of my traumatic performance I blurted out some sort of apology for being out of breath - as if there could have been any doubt! Jo-Jo then gave her customary serene rendering of the news in Cantonese. Before God had finished saving the Queen, Marc Millar was on the ‘phone demanding to know what the bloody hell had happened! There followed an acrimonious altercation in which I blamed the
Producer for not warning me there was a typing mistake in the log (2338 hours should have read 2318 hours) and then putting me "on camera" before making sure I was ready; while he stubbornly accused me of not being available when needed.
The Chinese obsession with maintaining "face" was the obvious reason for his inflexible refusal to accept any of the blame! Another instance of this tiresome phenomenon arose one evening after I had been called to the telephone following the news, to be told by the Director of the Royal Observatory in person that I had just read out the previous day’s weather forecast! (It was customary for one of the uniformed messengers to get the latest weather report from the teleprinter on the third floor and bring it up to the news studio, where it was translated into Chinese, each version then being handed to the appropriate announcer before
the news began) On re-examining my script I noticed that my weather forecast did, indeed, bear the previous day’s date. So I went over to the Producer and suggested he put Jo-Jo and me back onto camera during the next station break, so that we might apologise for the oversight and read out the correct weather forecast. "We can’t do that", was his reaction; "it will make us look silly". I pointed out that our mistake had been spotted by none other than the Director of the Royal Observatory in person; and that he had reported it to us with a view to getting us to put the record straight. The Producer, however, remained adamant. I then told him that I proposed ringing Marc Millar at his home to seek a ruling - which I did. Marc then promptly instructed the Producer to get both Jo-Jo and me to apologise at the first possible opportunity - much to the resentment and indignation of my Chinese colleagues. After we had made our announcements Jo-Jo lamented to me that "we had been made to look like pigs".
She then went on to philosophise: "you see Peter dear, whenever you westerners see an unpleasant situation you stir it up and shout about it, which doesn’t do anyone any good. We Chinese just look the other way and pretend we haven’t seen it, which is a far more civilised and elegant way to behave". Jo-Jo, incidentally, had the distinction of being looked upon as the Shirly Temple of the Chinese cinema. If I needed to drop a name in Chinese circles, I simply mentioned "my colleague Pong Big One" (Jo-Jo's proper Chinese name), for she had won fame starring as a child in numerous locally made Chinese film productions.
After wiping the my grease-paint off my face at station close down I usually adjourned to one of the numerous nearby Wanchai bars to wind down and relax over a refreshing drink of "San Miguel" (Hong Kong brewed beer), in anticipation of detecting the odd familiar local face among the hordes of American servicemen enjoying their "rest and recreation" leave from the Vietnam war. Sometimes I would drive straight home for a quiet balcony rendezvous with Ellen. As she was in the habit of watching television before going to bed I had arranged with her that, if I was going to be late returning home, in my closing television announcement prior to the playing of "God save the Queen" I would wish "everybody" a good night; and if I was coming straight home for a balcony encounter I would wish "everyone" a good night. The ploy worked admirably!