Free You'll Miss Me When I'm Gone by Gary Morecambe Page B

headline: ‘Youngsters Are Favourites On Morley Stage’. It goes on to list various young acts appearing in a local talent competition—a sort of regional version of today’s TV show Britain’s Got Talent . Out of around twenty finalists, the list was whittled down to five contestants.
    An extract from a book entitled Morley Entertainers says of the contest: ‘The voting by the audience on ballot papers was close. Each of the runners up
    received an award of half a guinea while an additional prize of a special course in tap dancing, given by the society’s ballet mistress, went to Hetty Harris. The first prize of three guineas was awarded to Ernest Wiseman whose comedy song and clever tap dance routine brought the house down.’
    Over the next two years Ernie would go on to become a child star, a rise culminating in performances at the London Palladium with the popular comic entertainer of the day Arthur Askey.
‘It was the beginning of a friendship which would last another forty-three years.’
    Shortly after this success Eric and Ernie found themselves travelling together, though each was still a solo act. They shared digs, even shared a bed, which would gently be nodded to in later years when they put a much-loved
    bed routine in their TV shows. Sadie spotted the chemistry and it was she who encouraged them to form a double act.
    It was at the Empire Liverpool in August 1941 that Eric and Ernie first performed as the double act Bartholomew and Wiseman. This wasn’t a moment that heralded the arrival of a new and wonderful double act—that was still a decade and a half away—but it was the beginning of a friendship and a working partnership which would endure until Eric’s death forty-three years later.
    Eric and Ernie hadn’t been teamed up for very long when they were to see their partnership put on hold. The Second World War began.

Eric’s World War
    ‘When the war was on, I went down the mines as a Bevin Boy. My height was no handicap, as I worked lying down. Happy days? Yes, the days were very happy indeed—I was working nights.’
    G ordon and Bunny Jay (brothers whose real name was Jones) were the doyens of British variety bills, appearing in countless pantomime seasons over countless decades, and only recently announced their retirement. Catching up with them face to face was a privilege, but I would be lying if I said there wasn’t an ulterior motive to my wanting to interview them. For quite unbelievably it emerged, during a street-corner conversation with Bunny, that not only was his brother down the mines during the war as a Bevin Boy, as Eric was, but that Gordon and my father worked in the same pit and shared the same digs.
    There’s been a lot in the news lately about the Bevin Boys. They appear to be getting belated recognition for their part in the war effort. As for Bunny, well, to find a Bevin Boy who had come across my father at that time would havebeen thrilling for me, but to meet one who had not only shared digs with him but also gone into the same profession after the war was genuinely remarkable.
    Curiously, just as I set about interviewing Gordon and Bunny, I received an email from someone called Andrew Baird who had managed to track me down. Andrew first met my father as opponents on the football pitch as kids. ‘Later, we met just after he was called up as a Bevin Boy,’ he recalled. ‘Based upon Eric’s experience of that, and the advice he gave me, I volunteered for the Royal Navy and went to sea as part of an Atlantic convoy. We were attacked by a German U-Boat and we lost at least one ship. When I relayed my experience to Eric after the war, I made it quite clear that this was the only trouble I experienced during my three years.’
    The years went by, but Andrew and Eric were destined to meet again. Eric became a director of Luton FC, and Andrew became the bank manager for Mansfield Town FC. ‘After the match we had a long, long chat,’ says Andrew. ‘We agreed to