‘It’s lucky I wrote my biography in 1959,’ said Eric Maschwitz. ‘Now I can use it as a reference book whenever I want to remember something.’

He added: ‘You know, the one fact that I needed recently that wasn’t in it was the date of my second marriage. Neither my wife nor I could remember it, and in the end we had to prise her wedding ring off and look at the inscription. Now we’ve found out the date, we can celebrate it.’

At 65, Eric Maschwitz, executive producer special projects, is endearingly mild, humorous and vague. His eye for a pretty girl is as keen as ever it was when he ‘launched’ Jean Carson in ‘Love from Judy’, the West End musical. His career, which appears to have been as undisciplined as a Mongolian lamb rug and as colourful as a Persian carpet, has provided him with an unending stream of amusing stories. He sheds anecdotes among his listeners as easily as other people scatter crumbs to pigeons.

He is the writer of several musicals and more than 300 lyrics, including ‘These Foolish Things’ and ‘A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square’. (‘I feel a great joy whenever I hear them being played at the thought that they’re still earning me money,’ he says). As director of variety for BBC sound, he originated ‘In Town Tonight’, still going strong. In Hollywood he wrote the screen version of ‘Goodbye, Mr. Chips’. In his five years as head of BBC television’s light entertainment from 1958, he started up ‘The Black and White Minstrel Show’, ‘Juke Box Jury’, ‘Compact’, ‘Steptoe’ and many other series.

Joining Rediffusion in 1963 ‘at the request of my old friend John McMillan’, his first production was ‘Our Man at St. Mark’s’.

Later he brought Stella Richman into the company and with Cyril Coke devised ‘The Rat Catchers’.

Moreover, this brief outline mentions nothing of his exciting wartime career – during which a certain Major John McMillan was under his command – nor of his two marriages, the first to comedy star Hermione Gingold.

With a man like this, where does one begin when asked, as I have been by the editor of Fusion, to write a ‘short profile’?

In fact, I began by reading Eric’s autobiography, published in 1959, and called ‘No Chip on my Shoulder’. It is a fascinating book crammed with well-known names, entertaining stories and, incidentally, too many exclamation marks!

It seemed that the best way to give readers an idea of the adventures in Eric’s life would be to print – with his permission – some extracts from the book, along with a potted biography. Born in Birmingham, Eric went to Repton School with a classical scholarship, then to Caius College, Cambridge, where he read modern languages. At Repton he wrote his first lyrics for a school operetta and at Cambridge he became a ‘leading lady’, playing Vittoria Corombona in ‘The White Divel’ for the Marlowe Society.

After this he tried several careers-journalist, novelist, repertory actor, peanut vendor in a french travelling circus, waiter in a French café, and principal of a correspondence course in short-story writing. During this time – he packed a lot into five years – he married Hermione Gingold.

When he was literally down to his last pair of shoes – dancing shoes – Eric joined the BBC at Savoy Hill, where for six months his job as assistant director of outside broadcasting brought him in £300 a year [£15,500 in today’s money, allowing for inflation – Ed]. Specialisation seems to have been unheard of then and he mucked in on everything from writing to broadcasting himself.

From this, he became editor of the ‘Radio Times’, one of his assistants being Val Gielgud. In his seven years as editor he found time to take up writing for radio drama, beginning with an adaptation of Compton Mackenzie’s novel ‘Carnival’, for which, in spite of many revivals, he never received a penny extra.

Soon after this he was introduced to George Posford, a jazz enthusiast who had graduated from the Royal College of Music, and together they wrote ‘Good Night, Vienna’, for the radio. Film rights were bought by Herbert Wilcox for a mere £200 [£12,000], and it was made into one of the first ‘talkies’ in this country, with Jack Buchanan and Anna Neagle starring.

In 1933, Eric Maschwitz was offered the post of variety director for the BBC with the job of doubling the output of ‘light’ programmes. ‘In Town Tonight’ was thought up by him as a means for filling one of the ‘peak’ hours – 6.30 pm on Saturday.

‘With a little fast talking I got the title accepted by the planners, though I had in truth only the sketchiest notion as to what form the feature would eventually take,’ he recalls. ‘There was no script until on the morning of the first performance I sat down at the typewriter and hastily thought up “the roar of London’s traffic” and the flower-girl murmuring “sweet violets”to be interrupted by the stentorian shout of “Stop”.’

The words for ‘These Foolish Things’ were written one Sunday morning when Eric, pyjama-clad, unshaven and suffering from lack of rest, was sipping coffee and vodka.

By lunchtime the words had been dictated over the telephone to Jack Strachey, and that evening a melody had been composed.

‘I was, I must shyly confess, bitterly disappointed in it,’ reveals Eric. ‘Nor did Jack care for the title; he wanted to call the song “These Little Things”.’

Surprisingly, the song aroused no special interest. ‘No publisher would oblige (even the firm of Keith Prowse, to which I was under contract at the time, gladly gave me a letter releasing it). We put it into a West End revue; still it failed to set the musical Thames on fire.’ However, one day Leslie Hutchinson (‘Hutch’), the West Indian singer, found the manuscript on top of Eric’s office piano, played it, liked it and recorded it. The song was an immediate success, and so was Eric. He was interviewed in New York, in his column Walter Winchell reproduced the lyrics in full, and ‘the pretty ladies with whom I danced wanted alas! no more of me than that I should breathe those lyrics into their shell-like ears!’ The song has earned Eric altogether more than £30,000 [£480,000], he estimates.

Two amusing tales from his days as variety director point up Eric’s inventiveness. Asked to be the commentator for the arrival of Amy Johnson, on her return from her recordbreaking flight to Australia, Eric was faced with 40 empty minutes, because the aeroplane was delayed. ‘I filled up the time by giving the listeners a Short History of Flying, taken from a sixpenny booklet which somebody had thoughtfully purchased from the airport bookstall!’

On the night of the Jubilee Ball from the Albert Hall, the BBC had ‘elected to broadcast the first half-hour of just the sort of occasion at which the majority of the guests arrive late’. When Eric got to the hall it was completely empty, except for the orchestra. He could find no trace of the OB official who was supposed to be in charge. So, with the broadcast ‘hooked up’ to all parts of the Empire, something had to be done. ‘As the red light began to blink, I gathered together the waiters who had been hanging around the edges of the floor and made them waltz with each other so that we might have at least the sound of dancing feet.’ The orchestra played and Eric drew upon his considerable imagination to describe a vivid scene of princes, potentates and famous beauties arriving at the ball.

Even the award to Eric of the OBE in recognition of his services to broadcasting, was not quite straightforward. For although he was in one of the first Honours Lists after the death of King George V, he did not actually receive his decoration until after the Abdication. The document starts, therefore: ‘We Edward the Eighth etc.’ At the investiture, Eric, having neglected to wear gloves, had to borrow a cotton pair ‘slightly disfigured by iron-mould’ from one of the Royal Servants. But he was elated when the King, with whom 17 years before he had made up a four at tennis a few times, remarked: ‘It seems a long time since we used to play tennis together at Cambridge!’ Returning from the Palace, Eric learned that the musical spectacular play ‘Balalaika’, which he had written and produced, had been bought by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer for a six-figure sum. This led to an offer of a writing contract with the company, and in 1937 Eric joined the Hollywood studios at £350 a week [£20,000].

In spite of the money, the climate, and a Mexican-style bungalow in Beverly Hills, in spite of parties galore, Eric was dissatisfied. There was no work for him to do. Although he had been engaged primarily to work on the screen version of ‘Balalaika’, three other writers were assigned to it instead. (The result of their work Eric describes as ‘a piece of cheese’, but adds ‘it made a fortune’).

He decided to return to London. ‘So far the studio had paid me over $30,000 for doing almost precisely nothing; only madmen, I thought, would wish to keep me there any longer.’ But the studios, he found, liked to keep talent in reserve, and it was not so easy to escape. When he became really restless, he was asked to re-write someone else’s screen version of ‘Goodbye, Mr. Chips’. This he did, enjoying the work, but trying nevertheless to complete it by the time his six months’ contract expired, and before his option could be renewed. He managed it – with a few hours to spare.

When the 1939 war came, Eric volunteered, and eventually found himself with M.I.6, working from a suite in the Adelphi Hotel, Liverpool.

‘Our “cover” in the hotel was that my colleagues were interested in the production of a new revue of which I was to be the writer; to lend colour to this perhaps improbable story they gave one theatrical party after another. To add plausibility to the set-up I actually began to write a revue.’ The result was the hit show ‘New Faces’ in which Judy Campbell introduced ‘A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square’ to a delighted audience.

At a later stage in the war he was appointed liaison officer between the War Office and Broadcasting House to ensure that radio programmes heard by the troops were morale-boosting.

Eric’s book tells of many of his other wartime exploits – which included a period in New York with the military staff of ‘British Security Co-ordination’ and a mission to Lisbon, as well as the production of several more musicals. He also, while in the Broadcasting Section of Army Welfare, devised a scheme for making recorded programmes in London and shipping them out to stations overseas to be heard by British troops.

This brought into existence the ORBS (Overseas Recorded Broadcasting Service) in which the Navy and the Air Force also helped.

It was while with the Psychological Warfare Branch of SHAEF [Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force] that Eric obtained a divorce and married Phyllis Gordon, his present wife, a girl he had known for 10 years. Eric, as a lieutenant-colonel, renewed a prewar acquaintance with John McMillan when he took charge of broadcasting for the War Office.

‘My new job was a very interesting one. With the armies as they fought their way towards Germany went three mobile radio-transmitters from which programmes were broadcast to the troops. This Field Broadcasting Unit was under the command of Major “Johnny” McMillan, a taciturn, poker-faced Australian whom I had known as a producer for commercial radio before the war. He ruled a rather turbulent assembly of broadcasters and technicians with a rod of iron.’

As part of his task of setting up a British Forces Network in Germany – it was obvious that the enemy would soon surrender and entertainment was needed for British troops who would no longer be occupied with fighting – he drove with John McMillan into Hamburg. There they requisitioned the Musikhalle, a vast concert hall, as a new headquarters. A transmitter was taken over at Norden; an entire staff of German technicians recruited; and ‘within a few days the admirable McMillan who possessed a miraculous gift for getting things done, had the German post office engineers busy linking our new station with Hamburg by land-line’. Events moved quickly and soon test programmes were being transmitted.

‘Once more in Brussels where I had gone to listen to the tests and incidentally catch up with the paper-work in my office, I was alarmed to receive a signal from Hamburg to the effect that in view of the excellent performance of the transmitter it was proposed to put a regular programme service into operation as from the next day. On learning of this the Brigadier, who had all along been a little doubtful of our enthusiasm, dictated a signal ordering Major McMillan to postpone his intentions until such time as proper consideration could be given to them. This ukase [Russian: a proclamation by the Tzar] went astray or was conveniently “lost” at the receiving end; the following morning when we tuned in as usual to the tests, we were greeted by the voice of one of our sergeant-announcers proudly proclaiming the birth of the British Forces Network in Germany! The transmission was so good and official congratulation so general that nothing more was ever heard about the missing signal.’

Eric also recalls that he enjoyed staying at ‘Johnny’s mess’. The house of a Hamburg banker, it was situated just outside Osnabruck, and ‘contained bedrooms designed, it seemed, to house Madame Pompadour’ and two Bechstein concert grand pianos. ‘My resourceful subordinate,’ this chapter of the book notes, ‘had further added to the amenities of the establishment by recruiting a first-class German chef and a head waiter who, before the war, had served at the Waldorf-Astoria in New York. Both cooking and service were so Lucullan that the Brigadier, upon one of his occasional visits of inspection, drew me aside with the words: “I say, don’t you think that fellow McMillan’s going a bit too far?”’ (I was amused to see that Eric has mis-spelt his present general manager’s name in every reference to him – but of course, that was in 1959, when Eric Maschwitz was still unconnected with television and able to write in his book apropos the theatre ‘And over all looms the sinister shadow of Television’!)

After the war came a revue produced on a shoestring, then ‘Carissima’ in 1948 with music by Hans May, a terrific success in spite of bad notices from the critics. While he was working on this, Val Parnell asked Eric to collaborate on a revue to be produced at the Hippodrome, ‘Starlight Roof’. In the cast was a child coloratura the then unknown Julie Andrews, who was nearly taken out of the show by the producer who called her performance ‘a circus act’.

‘Serenade’ followed, then ‘Belinda Fair’, after which Eric formed his first connection with television, writing a series of comedies called ‘Family Affairs’ for the BBC. Then there was a television version of ‘Carissima’ starring Barbara Kelly, which was ‘the most elaborate and costly musical production so far attempted by the BBC” and written in 82 scenes.

‘Zip Goes a Million’ came next, ‘Love from Judy’ (starring Jean Carson who had been admired by Eric in ‘Starlight Roof’ and ‘pushed’ into this part by him), ‘Romance in Candlelight’ and ‘Summer Song’.

In 1958 Eric was made head of light entertainment for BBC television, rejoining the BBC fold after an absence of 19 years. On his retirement at the age of 62 came the invitation to join Rediffusion, for whom he had already produced as a freelance.

‘I had provided a package deal of script, cast and music for a 26-part adventure serial called “Destination Downing Street” for only £600 [£12,300] an episode,’ he recalls. His records show that Susan Hampshire, then unknown, was paid £14 [£285] for an appearance and Stratford Johns £21 [£430]. He also remembers casting Richard Harris for 17 guineas [£17 17s, £17.85 in decimal, £365 today], and Fenella Fielding (as a belly dancer) for £23 [£470].

What of the present? Eric is working only part-time now for the company. He also produces a monthly news bulletin about ITV for circulation in Europe and the Far East.

Ahome in Marylebone he has just produced a new version of Franz Lehar’s ‘The Count of Luxembourg’ and is in the middle of revising ‘The Chocolate Soldier’, both for performance by amateur operatic societies. (He has always taken an immense interest in the amateur societies and has made many adaptations, and even written a new work, for them.)

He is looking for a composer for the new stage musical he is working on and which he won’t talk about yet. ‘The Press are all pestering me to know about it, but I’m not saying anything.’ With the agreement of the company, he is compèring a weekly record series on the radio and he is, and has been for the past 14 years, on the Council of the Performing Rights Society. (In 1962 he won the Ivor Novello Award for his services to popular music).

With such a full life, I asked him the other day, is there anything he regrets not having done?

‘I’d like to have gone into the Church or education,’ he replied. Then, turning to his secretary June Wisden, who has been with him now for six years, he said: ‘Did I ever tell you about the time when …’

Eric was off on another of his reminiscences…

⦿ Albert Eric Maschwitz OBE was born on 10 June 1901 in Birmingham and died on 27 October 1969 in Berkshire

The post The amazing Eric Maschwitz !!! appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

Next month the clouds of obscurity which mushroomed around our future following the ITA announcement about the changes in ITV should begin to clear. The end of a period most people will only want to go through once in their career is near.

It has not been a happy time and it must be stated clearly that for some the future will still bring only worry and indecision. The quart of staff at present working for this company and ABC Television will not go into the pint pot of a new joint company.

Nevertheless there has been a categoric assurance from John McMillan, our general manager, that the first consideration in all the many problems to be thrashed out will go to the staff. One cannot ask for more than that.

As soon as possible next month personal interviews will be held with everybody and those who have been selected to join the new company will be informed. The union shops will be told simultaneously. Then the ITV companies and the unions are to organise a Register upon which the names of those not offered jobs will be placed. A similar Register is to be set up at the same time for nonunion staff.

The aim with both these registers is to ensure that everyone is given the chance of re-employment in the industry at the same basic rate of pay as at present. The unions have their own weapons to see that this is done. The non-union staff must depend on the goodwill of others which surely must be forthcoming.

Both must also rely on Lord Hill’s public statement at the press conference on Sunday, June 11 at which he announced the proposition that ABC Television and Rediffusion Television should form a new company.

In reference to the appointment of the Harlech Consortium in place of TWW he said:

‘It will also be a requirement that, when appointing staff, the new company will give prior consideration to the employment of those now working in Independent Television in Wales and the West. I may say at this point that the Authority will make the observance of this principle a requirement in all cases of change (Fusion‘s italics). The sum of the changes we are making will lead to an increase in overall employment in Independent Television; and there should be no reason to fear general redundancy, though there will be individual cases where goodwill and care will be needed and these will be exercised.’

The demise of TWW made the main press headlines. The merger of Rediffusion Television and ABC Television was a secondary story. Yet, in terms of human predicament, the merger presents far more complex problems than those arising from what will probably be a straight takeover of staff and equipment by the Harlech Consortium from TWW.

There will be ‘an increase in overall employment’ (more jobs) but, the formation of a new company in Leeds is not of much value to those whose homes and lives are centred around London.

So that leaves London Weekend Television, the new London weekend group, as a source of jobs. How far they will wish, or be forced by the unions and, possibly, the ITA, to take on Rediffusion staff not re-employed remains to be seen. John McMillan has told Fusion that in his opinion all unionised ITV workers, except those soon to retire, will get jobs starting July 30, 1968 or before with either the new ABC/Rediffusion company or London Weekend Television. One good thing which will, in Fusion’s opinion, probably arise from all this is a transferable pension scheme between all ITV companies and possibly with the BBC as well.

This is vital in view of the fact that a similar situation involving others, if not ourselves, could arise in another six years’ time – or eight – when new contracts are again handed out.

For the present, however, the immediate concern of everybody must obviously be to see that Rediffusion Television continues to operate at the highest possible standard right up to the time it comes off the air on July 29, 1968. We must do this for the sake of our own personal professional reputations quite apart from loyalty to the company and to the public we have chosen to serve by working in television.

This will not be easy but anyone who has decided to make television a career must have a basic desire to serve the public and this service must not be allowed to deteriorate.

As this edition went to press, detailed discussions were being held to form a new direction and management structure and to agree with ABC Television on the disposition of offices, equipment, transport and all the many other factors involved in the merger. One of the most important, of course, will be a decision on the future use to be made of Studio 9, Television House, Hanover Square, Wembley studios and Teddington studios.

By the time this edition is printed decisions may have been reached and announced. If this has not been done rumours will, no doubt, start to circulate. Again management has stated categorically that, as soon as there is anything to say, the staff will be the first to know. So, if rumours are flying, they can be summarily shot down.

It is obvious that there will be many delicate negotiations to be handled with ABC Television and it would be wrong to expect a day-by-day account of them. Indeed, they would be likely to attract press publicity which could prejudice further negotiations.

So the only reasonable attitude must be to wait patiently knowing that we have been promised information as soon as it can be given. There is one happy side to all this which must not be overlooked. Few people have the opportunity in the middle of their careers to review just what they are doing with their lives and what they wish to do in the future and to be given virtually a whole year to think about it.

Obviously this does not apply to those nearing retirement age and one hopes that some system will be devised to ensure that they do not suffer because of the high level decisions which have been made and over which they had no control.

But for those with some years still to work – and the average age of the ITV industry is low – the situation does present an opportunity to make a reassessment of their careers and the pattern of their lives.

As for the pattern of the industry, this would need a really magical crystal ball to unravel. One thing is clear: we have not seen the last television upheaval. Here, verbatim, are the words spoken by the Postmaster General in the House of Commons last month:

‘There remains … the question of the longer-term organisation of broadcasting in Britain. The recently awarded contracts will run from next July to 1974. Two years later, in 1976, the franchise of the ITA and the BBC’s charter, Licence and Agreement will end together. Recently, I have taken steps to ensure that licences of the relay companies, which make up a very important element in our broadcasting system, will end at the same time. So, nine years from now, an opportunity will arise for a fundamental review of the whole system, because ITA, the BBC and the relay companies will all terminate at the same time.

‘As I have said on a number of occasions since I became involved in the subject, I cannot see the present kind of organisation lasting for very much more than the decade which we have ahead of us before those changes take place. In 1969 the Post Office becomes a public corporation. The residual Minister will then have under his wing the two broadcasting authorities, the Post Office Corporation and a number of other residual activities, but he will be freed of all the day-to-day administrative work of the Post Office – that great mass of administrative work which weighs down the Postmaster General. From that time the residual Minister will be able to devote more of his time to broadcasting, and I hope that, in the spring of 1969, a long, cool look will begin at the whole system of broadcasting in this country.’

What other group of people in the country has to work under these terms? Are long, cool looks and the upheaval of individual lives going to be a continuous reward of working in ITV?

Possibly. And possibly it is right that such an important industry should be the subject of long, cool looks – as long as they are not positively frigid. It is not Fusion‘s job to comment on this.

But what Fusion must do is to point out that such events as the breaking up of companies, the holding of ‘fundamental reviews’ (remember Pilkington?) are not likely to create the most conducive atmosphere in which either companies or individuals can flourish. We have the compensation of working in what we all obviously regard as the most exciting, challenging and interesting industry there is. Perhaps we must expect to forfeit the security which comes from working in a bank or insurance.

But, whatever the reasons for ending Rediffusion Television may have been, it must not be forgotten that very talented and dedicated teams of technicians and programme people, and accounts, advertising, publicity, administrative and secretarial staff are also being broken up.

There is no doubt that those who are picked will recreate similar teamwork in the new company but it will take time.

Further, although Fusion does not want to be accused of chauvinism, we do believe that the spirit of the ‘workers’ in Rediffusion Television is and was second to none. The co-operation between individuals, the help one section gives another, the happy working relationships between people from post-room to management, are all indefinable. But they added up to something pretty considerable. Furthermore in the last three years and more there has never been the faintest whisper of a possible stoppage.

The new company will have a flying start if it inherits only this happy spirit.

Meanwhile there is plenty of work to do until July, 1968 and on the remaining 34 pages of this edition Fusion, too, gets back to normal …

The editor

The post Fused appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

On Wednesday, November 24, 1954 I walked into the offices (two rooms) of Associated-Rediffusion in Stratton House as the third member of the staff: the company secretary, Arthur Groocock, and his personal secretary, Fay Caddy, were already there. The company’s name was fixed – an accountant in Rediffusion was presented with a gold watch for having thought of it, especially the hyphen – and the Board of Directors had been chosen – the chairman from B.E.T., three directors from Rediffusion and four from Associated Newspapers. Nothing else was fixed.

I do not propose to trace the build-up of the company, nor to describe the intriguing excitement with which I entered, for me, the unknown worlds of entertainment and advertising. Suffice it to say that the company went on the air on Friday, September 22, 1955 with a crashing and most expensive programme, and will end its present Licence period on Wednesday, July 29, 1964 with, I hope, another outstanding programme: and that between these two dates, the company has been so successful financially as to become the envy of many people, and so successful programme-wise that it is the provider of the majority of live/taped hours to the network. Some call us doggedly decent; I say we are reliably good.

Most people think of a general manager as a man in command, even at times as a dictator, but in fact no one is a successful general manager unless he serves. In our case he has to serve the viewers, the staff and the shareholders. Also, of course, he has to manage.

If the viewers are not given the sort of programme they can admire and like, they will switch off or switch on to the BBC. First, therefore, the general manager must develop a programme policy which will serve the viewers. We have now evolved a programme policy over the years which, I think, meets the viewers’ needs. From 7.00 p.m. till about 10-10.45 p.m. we give programmes likely to appeal to all members of the family over the age of 17. Before 7.00 p.m. and after 10-10.45 p.m. we give programmes likely to appeal to substantial minorities. Sport in the afternoon; small children at 4.45 p.m.; older children at 5.00 p.m.; news at about 6.00 p.m.; the till 7.00 p.m. Similarly, in the late evening a more sophisticated audience is always served by at least one programme. Up till 7.00 p.m. programmes are suitable for children; between 7.00 p.m. and 9.00 p.m. they are not unsuitable for children; after 9.00 p.m. they are suitable for adults, but not always for children.

To arrive at this pattern of programming, and to make a success of individual programmes, a great deal of research is essential in order to find out the types and the sizes of minority audiences, and to find out if a particular minority audience likes the programme aimed at it. If, for instance, we transmit a programme on the lives of pop singers, and we know that a minority of three million homes in the country are interested in pop singers, then if 80 per cent of this minority of three million homes switch on and stay with the programme, we have got a successful programme; whereas, if only 40 per cent switch on or if the 80 per cent dwindles to 40 per cent, then we have a failure. The viewers must be served and, therefore, the programme must be altered or withdrawn.

We are sometimes accused of being too rigid in our programme schedules, especially by the television critics – poor chaps, they have to watch all the time – who long for a surprise. It is said that we are forced into a rigid pattern by the advertisers: this is not so. We do not lightly change a programme schedule because we feel that we should keep faith with our viewers. If the keen followers of “This Week’ switch on only to find we have substituted boxing, then they are maddened; if the followers of Hughie Green find a Cape Canaveral programme substituted, then they are saddened, whilst family men will know the result if ‘Small Time’ is pre-empted for tennis. My policy throughout has been to try and serve the viewers; the touchstone is whether or not the viewers will be satisfied by and grateful for the programmes. To make them grateful, however, it is necessary to advance a little beyond their present taste; always to improve the programme content.

Strange as it may seem to many of you, a general manager also has to serve the staff. Firstly, he must establish an organisation which is clear and workable, so that everybody knows who does what. Nothing is more frustrating than not knowing who deals with what and who can give a decision. Secondly, he has to create a staff relationship in which the staff feel that promotions or demotions are fairly done, that discipline is tempered with understanding. Nothing can engender bitterness more than a feeling that something has been decided unfairly or ruthlessly and, in this connection, the same ill feeling can be caused if the general manager allows one person to get away with something – bad time-keeping or excessive expenses – whilst his colleague has abided by the rules. Thirdly, the general manager must see that conditions under which the staff work, and the equipment that they operate are the best that can reasonably be provided. It may be the creative freedom given to the programme directors, or it may be the vision mixing panel in master control, but whatever it is, it should enable the creative staff to be creative and the servicing staff to be able to do their job efficiently.

The shareholders are certainly considered by the staff less than any other part of the company: I doubt if the majority of the staff ever give them a thought. Nevertheless, they are a most important part of the organisation. They provide the money and it was their faith which launched the company. The general manager must serve the shareholders. Therefore, he must set up and supervise an advertising sales department which will bring in the revenue; he must be attentive to the views of advertisers and their agents, since they are entitled to get good value for the money they spend with the company. The shareholders want revenue, not only to pay for the cost of our operations and to pay a dividend on their capital, but also to provide cash for improving the equipment and programmes. 625 lines standard and colour are on their way, and will need a lot of money to install. The shareholders through the board also look to the general manager to see that the money they provide is not wasted, either by bad organisation, excessive salaries or artists’ payments, or by the purchase of dud or unwanted equipment.

You will observe that there is a very fine dividing line between the object of satisfying the viewers with better programmes which might be achieved by extra expenditure, and the object of preventing the shareholders’ money being wasted. The general manager never has an easy life and very rarely does he have easy decisions to make. (‘Problems only reach the general manager when they are insoluble elsewhere’.) An example much talked about at the moment is the decision whether or not to edit tape. Editing tape might lead to improved programmes, though the improvement in my opinion will only be appreciated by a minority of professional viewers, and not by 90 per cent of our public. It would, however, be expensive and might lead, as in the U.S.A., to taped programmes being produced by film techniques which would be very expensive. This, in turn, might lead, as in the U.S.A., to 90 per cent of the programmes being made in film studios which, to my mind, would kill ITV as it now exists and substitute a home cinema. This general manager has not found it an easy decision, but he leaves the company firmly convinced that the editing of tape is not in the interests of the viewers, the staff or the shareholders.

As planned long ago, I am retiring from my job as general manager before the start of the new Licence period; firstly, because I think that after 45 years of full-time work I am entitled to take life a bit easier and, secondly, because I believe that television is a young man’s job: new ideas should be bubbling up and new techniques tried (always provided they are not to the detriment of the viewers). When you are over 60 there is a danger of thinking that old and tried ideas are necessarily the best. I shall, however, be on the board of some of our subsidiary companies, and will not, therefore, be completely out of touch.

I am delighted that John McMillan, who has so often stood in for me when I have been away, is now relieving me. The board of Associated-Rediffusion is remaining the same and they are, in my opinion, the best board in Independent Television. I am sure that Associated-Rediffusion’s second licence period will be one of continuing success. I hope to see most of the staff over the Christmas period in order to say a personal good-bye, but I would like now to thank you all for your loyal support through the years, and for never allowing your jobs to get you down. I hope, when the station clock is redesigned, it will contain the company’s motto ‘Never Baffled’.

The post The General Manager’s farewell appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

As things now stand at the time of going to press, Government policy is to broadcast colour transmissions using a 625-line standard, to be radiated by the BBC on an Ultra High Frequency in Bands IV and V.

This decision will effectively preclude the 47,000,000 viewers who normally watch the Independent Television channels from receiving colour transmissions on their normal channels and means that the programmes will reach the minimum audience at the maximum, indeed astronomical, cost.

These questions and answers by general manager, john mcmillan attempt to discuss a possible alternative in terms comprehensible to the non-technical reader.

The technology of the subject is such that any discussion of colour must additionally cover the frequency bands to be used for transmission and the line standard. These things are closely connected.

1 There is much talk regarding the relative quality of 625 and 405-line television pictures. What determines the quality of a picture?

The quality of a television picture is fundamentally determined by the amount of ‘information’ transmitted, and received. More ‘information’ – better pictures.

The ‘information’ in its turn is limited by the frequency bandwidth of the video signal. More bandwidth – better pictures.

The line standard adopted affects the bandwidth. More lines – more bandwidth.

The more bandwidth used, the fewer transmitters can be accommodated in a particular slice of the available frequency spectrum allocated to television broadcasting.

2 What line standards are in actual use today?

In order of theoretical ‘goodness’ and somewhat simplified, they are as follows:

3 We seem to be right at the bottom of the league table. Surely a change to a ‘better’ standard is most desirable?

Not so. It so happens that the British Standard as specified by Messrs. Schoenberg and Blumlein of EMI some 36 years ago was a singularly good choice in all respects. It is a fact that it is possible to transmit enough information to give a first class picture on a 3 Mc/s video bandwidth.

4 What about the actual line structure? Does not 405 lines give a coarse-grained picture?

Viewed at the proper viewing distance, the line structure of any standard is virtually invisible.

5 So you think 405 lines is an adequate standard?

Yes. If a 405-line receiver has a good aerial and is properly tuned it gives a very good picture. Above all things, a 405 lines system is already in being and gives excellent coverage with the minimum number of transmitters.

6 Why did the Government of the time elect to move to a 625-line standard?

Largely due to a desire to operate on a common European Standard and so facilitate interchange of programmes.

This was a nice idea rather than a useful practical facility. It is no longer a nice idea because Europe has now decided on two different methods for colour.

7 BBC 2 transmission is often heavily criticised. What are the facts?

Of the frequency bands available under international agreement for TV broadcasting two Bands. I and III are VHF and two Bands, IV and V are UHF.

The transmission and reception characteristics are quite different.

On VHF the BBC attains 99.5 per cent coverage of the country with 30 main stations and 62 major fill-in stations.

Similar figures for 97 per cent coverage by the ITA are 32 main stations and 30 fill-in stations. For UHF and an estimated coverage of 95 per cent some 64 main stations and 250 major fill-in stations are required.

To extend this to 97 per cent a further 1,000 minor fill-in stations are estimated to be necessary. Further extension to a higher coverage figure is considered to be economically impractical.

At 97 per cent coverage over 1,500,000 people will be without television on UHF due to local screening difficulties.

Present official policy is to abandon the present economic Bands I and III and move all television broadcasting to Bands IV and V. Surely a most unsound scheme requiring a huge increase in cost for an inferior result.

8 If the VHF bands are so effective and economical, why does the Government not convert them to 625 lines?

Because the additional Channel bandwidth required for 625 lines (8 Mc/s) restricts the number of transmitters which can be accommodated in the space available to a level which would not give the high percentage national coverage deemed to be necessary for mass viewing.

9 So if we are to adopt 625 lines for colour we will positively have to go to UHF and accept the costs and consequences?

Yes. However, it must be re-emphasised that on all counts reception in lay hands is much worse on these bands. They have never been a real success in any country (USA, UK. Germany).

10 Is there any way out of this?

There is indeed. We could transmit colour on 405 lines on the existing VHF channels and forget about Bands IV and V except for additional programme services if, indeed, this country feels it can afford them.

11 Are there any technical difficulties?

None at all. On the contrary, certain features of the 405 lines transmission characteristic (positive modulation, amplitude modulated sound) are peculiarly suited to the transmission of colour. This is by far the cheapest, quickest, and most efficient way of getting colour TV off to a flying start with an immense potential audience on both BBC and ITV channels.

12 It is being said that the compatible picture in monochrome is inferior on 405 lines. Is this true?

Practically speaking, no. All things are. however, relative. It is true that compared with 625 lines the black-and-white compatible picture is, technically, slightly inferior as indeed is the case in normal black-and-white transmissions.

This, however, is a third order effect and would quite certainly not be noticed by the normal viewer.

All compatible black-and-white pictures from a colour channel are slightly inferior to those from a monochrome channel.

This is the inevitable price of introducing colour. It is of no practical importance.

13 Is it true that this country will not be able to sell colour receivers overseas unless we adopt 625 lines UHF standards for Great Britain?

That allegation is false. A receiver designed and originally manufactured for VHF 405-line colour and UHF 625-line black-and-white can be produced at minor additional expense in the factory for any other system. Our export prices would still be competitive. Incidentally, one of the main arguments some years ago for the adoption of a UHF 625-line black-and-white standard in this country was the same export argument. It was adopted for BBC 2 but there is no evidence of large export results.

14 If the existing BBC 1 and ITV VHF networks were converted to colour as you suggest what would happen to BBC 2?

It would stay in black-and-white … at least for the time being. Thus viewers would have two reliable colour programmes and one black-and-white instead of the present plan which provides for one unreliable colour service and two black-and-white.

The post The case for 405 line VHF colour appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

THAT was a decade that was. That was a decade that was…

Oh, put the emphasis where you like. The fact remains that all of us who were there on the night when Rediffusion and ITV first flickered on to the screen are now 10 – no, 11 – years older.

I’ve changed. How about you?

Rediffusion has certainly altered. For a start it is no longer ‘Associated’.

Incidentally, dear editor, it would be interesting to find out just how many people at present on the pay-roll were with the company on Night One (still known to some as the night they invented champagne).

The answer is 252 – Editor.

From my own memory book I recall Sally Sutherland, Red Lyle, Dennis Atherton, Richard Hawkins, and the late Hugh Finlay – all part of the Press Office over the years.

Where the nostalgia really hit me was at the ITA’s white-tie Guildhall banquet when 10 glorious years and all that were celebrated.

It might have been the wine and brandy but sitting there under the stony stare of Gog and Magog I suddenly realised that 10 years (and part of a hair line) had vanished since I was in almost the same seat for ITV’s curtain-up.

The instant reaction was to check for ‘old familiar faces’ along the tables around me. Of 40 or so TV ‘professionals’ within range only four, perhaps five, had been there back in ’55.

Now I know how Greybeard felt. If my memory is right was Lord Hill, now ITA chairman, at that September 22, 1955, dinner as Postmaster-General?

And at that time didn’t ABC TV consist of just Howard Thomas and a secretary?

Before quitting that particular celebration I wonder if the champagne would have flowed so freely had it been known that within one year Rediffusion would be over £3 million down?

By the way, hasn’t that been perhaps the most important change of all – turning those colossal losses of the early years into a profit?

As a privileged spectator seeing much of the game from close quarters it seems to me that Rediffusion’s development has been in three stages.

The first, naturally, was that somewhat daffy unreal period when the newly recruited army worked excitedly to get the company on the air and keep it there.

Forgive me if there is an overlap for so many shows have been crammed into the decade, but those were the days of Gordon Harker and ‘Sixpenny Corner’. Of Ralph Reader’s ‘Chance Of A Lifetime’.

The weekly sports magazine. The Granville Melodramas. And of Sgt ‘I Only Want The Facts, Mam’ Webb and ‘Dragnet’.

Wasn’t there a freakish series called ‘You’ve Never Seen This’? Book reviews in the morning. Sheila Matthews as Friday’s Girl. Wasn’t this, too, the Jack Hylton variety era… the names which occur being Arthur Askey, Tony Hancock (he once did a one-man show in an emergency), Rosalina Neri, Bryan Michie, Ivor Emmanuel, the Crazy Gang and the Water Rats?

Roland Gillett was the programme controller, Lloyd Williams was on the production staff, and the whole period was like the froth on top of a pint.

The second stage was marked by the appointment of Paul Adorian as managing director and John McMillan as programme controller.

Now the workaday face and output of the company was being established. On went the old originals in ‘Take Your Pick’ and ‘Double Your Money’.

But morning TV disappeared. Much of the early pioneering excitement went with it. And the staff settled down to a more orderly existence.

Schools programmes started – remember Enid Love? Was it in this spell or even earlier that we had those Michael Ingrams’ series? How about those Goonish shows like ‘A Show Called Fred’, ‘Son of Fred’, and ‘Idiots’ Weekly’? Not only Sellers, but Milligan, too.

The work of putting in the foundations went on continuously.

‘Cool For Cats’ caught popular fancy and brought Joan Kemp-Welch’s name to the forefront. ‘This Week’ was going strong. Somewhere around this point Cyril Bennett and Elkan Allan began contributing to the company’s fortunes.

Peter Cotes is one more name I associate with this sector of Rediffusion’s fortune. And was I alone in liking America’s ‘Johnny Staccato’ jazz-thriller series?

I went down the Thames on one Rediffusion birthday party – and across to Paris for another. That was the day that George Sanders, then working on a special programme called ‘Women In Love’, helped to play host. Although only a voyage down the Seine, Captain Tom Brownrigg was also on hand.

So we had ‘No Hiding Place’ and ‘Intertel’, ‘Wagon Train’ and ‘Rawhide’. But where was Tig Roe? Whither Alan Morris? Goodbye Kingsway Corner.

Out went advertising magazines. Out went ‘Jim’s Inn’ – after setting the standard for all shows of this type. But in came the many successful Pinter plays.

The most successful, of course, being ‘The Lover’, with Alan Badel and Vivien Merchant. It must have won almost every award possible… actor, actress, author and director. Surely Rediffusion’s most successful production in all those 11 years?

Just as the TV scene was growing contentedly sedate on came ‘Ready, Steady, Go!’ to give half the nation convulsions and the other half blood pressure.

Visiting the ‘RSG’ studio at TV House brought back all the din of 1955 and that drilling year when Adastral House was being converted.

By now Rediffusion was part of life. Dan Farson, always prominent in company affairs on the screen (his ‘Time Gentlemen, Please’ show was not only entered at Montreux but must have been responsible for the introduction of ‘Stars and Garters’), was a notable departure.

But phase two was drawing to a close too. On went John McMillan to general manager and in came Cyril Bennett as the new programme controller.

This is now part of the latest story… come in David Frost, Stella Richman, Benny Green, ‘Three After Six’, ‘The Rat Catchers’, and David Jacobs.

Pausing only to nod a farewell to Buddy Bregman and a friendly greeting to Europe’s favourite TV ‘uncle’ Eric Maschwitz, it scarcely seems credible that Monica Rose was hardly walking when ‘Double Your Money’ was first televised.

Yes, you’ve changed all right. Some more memory jogs… Stuart Hood, that ‘Arabian Nights’ opening for Wembley Studios, ‘Hippodrome’ in colour, the American deal with David Susskind, ‘Dial M For Music’, ‘Alfred Marks Time’, Keith Fordyce, Groucho Marx, Dickie Henderson, and on, and on.

It’s been a long time. Perhaps after all it should be that was a decade that was? What’s more Gog and Magog are still waiting.

The post That was the decade that was appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

But none of these things seemed to happen. Instead I found myself padding down all the same old jungle tracks that I had been padding down since 1955. The outline idea of the series had been born. Now I was frantic to find really first-class writers and excellent actors. Could we be assured of adequate rehearsal time and could we get all the equipment and crews we wanted? Would enough money to do the job properly come pouring out of the cornucopia that general manager John McMillan keeps under his desk? In fact I had exactly the same longings and hysterical anxieties that I had experienced during the direction of more than 50 plays over the past ten years.

This is heresy, I thought. You are not a director any longer. You are a producer. God has said so. You must stop thinking about all those unimportant things and think only about money and not spending it. So I thought a lot about money – and frightened myself. What I needed was a yardstick, something I could rely on to guide me through these new and uncharted waters – a sort of Gamekeeper’s Lode Star.

Parallel to all this mental agony the plan went ahead – writers were commissioned. Actors were approached and everyone liked the idea. An overall shape and ‘smell’ was emerging. We began to get excited. I found myself cornering directors in corridors and selling the idea like mad. Eric Maschwitz got visibly more and more excited and cigarette ash was piling up a foot high all round him. Gerald Flood, Glyn Owen and Philip Stone were to be our stars and I could not have been happier. Things were rolling.

Then, suddenly, along came the Budget. Like one has a sudden attack of shingles, so we had a sudden attack of Budget. I realised that the figure suggested was not nearly enough – enough for a couple of ‘Small Times’ and an outdoor broadcast of a fishing contest on the Ouse perhaps; but for a series of 13 terrific stories ranging all over Europe that would pulse and throb entertainment from the screen, no. Definitely no. We’d be lucky if we managed to go on location at Bognor Regis for a Thursday afternoon, let alone filming in Lisbon, Madrid, Stockholm and Ireland as the writers and I were planning. So we sent the skinny, sickly little budget figure back for a sort of rest cure with a polite note to the Doctor. After a while it came back just a little fatter and looking a tiny bit more healthy. If I took very, very great care of it, it might just have a chance. But it really did look awfully wan and pathetic lying there in its Blyton cot.

Now things were really happening. Raymond Bowers was in Madrid writing the first four stories. Paul Lee was visiting Stockholm to get the atmosphere for his three episodes while Jeremy Paul was in Lisbon sorting out his. Victor Canning, whose stories were to be set in Southern Ireland, was well under way. But I still hadn’t found my yardstick – my Lode Star. By mid-July all 13 scripts had been delivered. All the meetings and planning with our writers were now paying off. Fred Pusey, who was to be in charge of design for the series, and I went on a detailed reconnaissance to all the locations. James Ormerod accompanied us to Madrid since he was to do his own filming there while I was to take care of the filming in Lisbon and Stockholm.

Back home, a lot of behind-the-scenes work by Eric was now beginning to bear fruit and the incomparable Stella Ashley was legitimising us with studio management and scheduling. Bill Hitchcock and Don Gale were going to be able to direct the remaining stories. I was in good hands. And then suddenly we hurtled off on three weeks’ filming in Portugal, Spain and Sweden. Under Nick Hague’s expert and Machiavellian management we carved our merry way through acres of filming. But, right from the start, I was haunted, haunted by the everlasting question: how much is it all costing? Who was paying for those drinks on the aircraft? Surely we don’t n$ed all that transport? Colour film for the stills man? I hope we’re not paying all those drivers in that traffic jam that the police are engineering for us in the middle of Madrid? Who are all those people over there? Not extras I hope. (Nick: ‘Calm down, Cyril! Have a drink – an orange juice.’) ‘But Nick four guineas for 12 coffees and pastries in Stockholm?’

I was certain that all the money for the entire series would be completely spent long before we’d even got back to England. Early call after early call, late wrap-up after late wrap-up (and all costing money mind you), day after day. Thank Heaven everyone was too exhausted to spend much of the company’s money at night just eating. The sound recordist’s tummy trouble certainly saved us a lot of money on food – and I was glad to see symptoms developing in some of the more voracious members of the unit. Under budget we had to be, even if we all went home skeletons. But everyone was magnificent. Not only did we manage to achieve exactly what we had set out to do, but what was even more staggering, we actually finished well under budget. I breathed again.

One day after we had returned to England I was sitting in my office thinking about the whole project, when suddenly I realised how much I would like to direct the whole damn series myself – all 13 episodes. I felt a sneaking jealousy of Messrs. Ormerod, Hitchcock and Gale. Lucky fellows, I thought. And then it happened. I found my Producer’s Lode Star. This was the secret – for me at least, to make every effort, to get 13 fine scripts, first-class actors, ample time and money, and the feeling that I hated to part with every single story. Then to get them all polished and neatly dressed to be handed over, a little reluctantly perhaps, but with a paternal smile. As I said before, they were all going into good hands.

P.S. Oh, didn’t I tell you what the series is all about? Well, they say it’s going to start on February 1. It’s called ‘The Rat Catchers’.

The post Once a poacher… appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

In April 1961, Associated-Rediffusion, the first commercial television company ever to broadcast in the UK, and on-air since September 1955, maintained a Presentation section comprising the Head, Neil Bramson (ex French horn player in the London Symphony Orchestra if my memory serves me well, and apparently the originator of A-R’s ‘morse code’ ident); three transmission controllers (idiosyncratically called ‘Programme Officers’ or ‘POs’ by A-R), Alec Gunn, Harry Sloan and Wendy Powell; one Assistant Programme Officer, Allen Taylor; and one trainee (myself). There was also Peter Martin, whose function was to ensure that the commercial reel make-up (nearly all film in those days) conformed to the relevant laws, to oversee the slotting-in of community service announcements where necessary, and to provide film cue sheets to help the POs take commercial breaks smoothly. Supporting all these, there was a secretarial staff of six ladies (including, at one time, my wife) to prepare the schedules and to log each transmission shift in its entirety, to the exact second.

To write the link scripts, there was a separate promotions department, which in those days gave work to, among others, Hugh Whitemore, later to become a distinguished playwright. It was then A-R’s policy to use continuity announcers in vision for some early shifts (mostly linking children’s programmes). The three main ‘voices’ of that time were Redvers Kyle, Dick Norton and Tom Glazer, supported from time to time (for example holiday relief) by Dick Graham, Nick Worrall and Mel Oxley, to name a few, who otherwise mostly had full-time careers elsewhere. Later, Anne Aldred was another personality who provided a welcome feminine presence. Yet others included the late Laurie West (Squadron-Leader L.J. West), who prepared the weather forecast; Muriel Young, who had a desk in our office, despite her major role as anchor-woman for a number of children’s programmes; various puppeteers such as Wally Whyton and Ivan Owen (through whom I first met Ollie Beak and Basil Brush); and certain seasonal fixtures who would come into our tiny studio to deliver the latest on the cricket scores, for example.

Head of Presentation reported to Assistant Controller of Programmes (Planning), Cyril Francis in my day, who, with the other ACPs, reported to John McMillan and, ultimately, the Board.

Operationally, the Presentation Control Room was staffed by a Programme Officer, a secretarial assistant (to log the output), a vision mixer and a sound balancer, with a duty announcer to make all scheduled announcements and, importantly, any unscheduled ones that might be necessary. This crew worked closely with engineers in the Master Control Room, Central Control Room and/or Central Apparatus Rooms, with their attendant line/link operators, who were the final liaison with the engineers at the transmitter.

One aspect of the operation that kept us busy was that, as well as having the responsibility of providing a full television service for the London area from Monday to Friday, A-R was also ‘Nominated Contractor’ for that same period. This meant that, should anything arise to necessitate changes to the published programme timings, the whole commercial television network had to be informed so as to reorganize their schedules to conform to network requirements, or make their own individual arrangements. A conference call would be made on the ‘red phone’; the roll of the entire network was called; and negotiations would begin. For much of the 60s that would have involved A-R, ATV, Granada, Anglia, Southern, Television Wales and West (TWW), Wales West and North (WWN), Border, Tyne-Tees, Scottish Television, Grampian, Westward and Channel. ATV, who took over responsibility for the London area at weekends, became Nominated Contractor for Saturday and Sunday.

Mistakes were rare. Broadcasting regulations at that time were stringent, and we were acutely conscious of our station output being closely monitored for abuses. But I can confidently report that the ethos of the company kept us on our toes; the procedures handed down to us from our ex-Royal Navy masters (in Office Organizational Memoranda, or OOMs), although sometimes rather quaint, were always explicit, rather like Queen’s Regulations and Admiralty Instructions in the Navy itself.

Inevitably, though, freak events would sometimes occur. Once, during a race meeting outside broadcast somewhere up-country, the microwave link was momentarily broken. It was only for a second or two, but the receiving equipment did what it had been designed to do, making a quick search to find the signal again – and found the BBC instead! A most unsettling experience. I seem to remember hearing that favourite expression from the engineers: “OK leaving me, mate!”

There were also times when it paid to have some local knowledge. John McMillan, who had a razor-sharp mind and always seemed to know exactly what was happening, also had the unfortunate drawback of sounding intoxicated and slurring his words when on the telephone. Whereas certain other senior executives had been known to take a sudden dislike to some programme you were busy transmitting and, in their cups, would demand it be taken off, with John Mac you had to listen carefully – and do what you were told.

For years, ITV was not permitted to transmit the Queen’s Christmas message: that always came from the BBC. The first year the ‘ban’ was lifted, I was on duty on Christmas Day and I decided I would rehearse the BBC’s tape for duration and any technical problems. Just as well I did: the Beeb, whether accidentally or by design, had left an unusable Take 1 on the front of the tape – where Her Majesty dried! Had I transmitted that, there would have been hell to pay.

The post Who’s who in presentation appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

John McMillan, general manager, was born in Sydney, Australia on January 29, 1915. He was educated at Scots College, Sydney, in which city he began work after leaving school.

He has successively been engineering draughtsman, magazine publisher, author, radio announcer, salesman, radio programme producer, gramophone record manager, film producer, soldier, sound broadcasting executive, television producer, programme controller and general manager. His first broadcasting job was on Station 2GB in Sydney. He emigrated from Australia to England in 1934 and joined the International Broadcasting Company Limited as a sales executive and later managed its programme production subsidiary – Universal Programmes Corporation Limited. After leaving that company he managed a gramophone recording subsidiary of Electrical and Musical Industries Limited and produced a film for Warner Bros. He joined the horse cavalry as a trooper and was later commissioned as an infantry officer in the 2nd Battalion The South Wales Borderers. In 1944 he was transferred to the War Office as a staff officer (Broadcasting). Subsequently he planned, mobilised and commanded No. 1 Field Broadcasting Unit which operated in north-west Europe and eventually established the British Forces Network in Germany.

On being demobilised in 1946 he joined the BBC as an assistant to the controller of the light programme and then became chief assistant until he resigned in 1952. He spent some time in American television and has been with independent television in this country from the beginning. He was general manager elect of Kemsley-Winnick Television and joined Rediffusion late in 1955. He became controller of programmes early in 1956, and general manager on January 1, 1964. He is now a citizen of the United Kingdom.

The post John McMillan appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.