Once again the natural sequel to this perpetual money shortage was greed, and means were not particularly nice providing good food could be produced. One notoriously greedy person, Gordon Shute by name, illustrated both the greed and the laxness of principle prevalent at the time. There was a well-known practical joker, Gerry Cotton, who knew this individual and wanted to pull his leg and see how unscrupulous he really was. One morning he went up to him and said very conspiratorially and confidentially, his hand to his mouth, ‘Gordon, could you do with a little bacon?’ ‘Bacon! Good God, Gerry – is there bacon in the Camp?’ ‘Ssh! Keep it quiet, old boy. I’ll try and get some up through a man of mine for breakfast tomorrow.’ He paused – then added, ‘Perhaps I ought to tell you – only for Heaven’s sake keep it under your hat – that this bacon’s coming, er – unofficially, from the hospital cookhouse. I suppose that’ll be all right by you? I mean things are a bit different these days, what? And we’ve got to live.’ The beady little blue eyes of the gallant gentleman glittered. ‘Yes, Gerry, that’s all right.’ he said.

So Gerry told a lot of his neighbours what had happened and he set a punishment for this unpleasant gentleman that was watched daily by them all. When breakfast arrived the victim went outside the hut and sat waiting impatiently, looking up the path for the expected bacon. The hidden audience grinned. On the first morning Gerry told him that his man had mucked up, but that tomorrow it would be O.K. The same greedy pantomime was repeated next morning, when Gerry explained that his B.F. of a man had taken the bacon to the wrong hut. So once more – till tomorrow. On that third morning he broke it regretfully to his victim that the hospital bacon was finished. Nearly every officer in the camp knew the story, and at least a dozen witnessed this performance every day.

My own Chungkai job came about this way. By special request Carl Buck’s Animal Crackers was to be repeated in Chungkai, and as I’d been the ‘Prompt’ at Takanun, I automatically took over again in Chungkai. But in Chungkai we had a new producer, a professional, and I was speedily told that to prompt alone was no job, being merely a part of the special duties of the A.S.M. What was the A.S.M.? The Assistant Stage Manager, of course, and he had to hold the book, attend all the rehearsals, arrange the calls, work between the Producer and the Theatre staff, and prompt – would I be prepared to take it over? Yes, right – I’ll try. We started in straight away.

CHAPTER 15