The BBC opened the world’s first public television service in November 1936, a few weeks after Richard Dimbleby reported for duty at Broadcasting House. He was interested in the new medium, and even before the war had sent to the first Director of Television, Gerald Cock, a plan for televising news and topical events. He had also had one experience as a television commentator. His description of Chamberlain’s return from Munich with ‘Peace in our time’ in 1938 had been carried on television as well as radio.
But the BBC’s sole television transmitter mast at Alexandra Palace would have made a perfect direction finder for enemy aircraft, and television had had to close for the duration. The staff and equipment were widely dispersed, so it was not planned to restart the service until 7 June 1946, the eve of the great Victory March through London.
As soon as Dimbleby heard the date he wrote to the genial Irishman in charge of post-war television, Maurice Gorham.
‘Have you a vacancy for a commentator on Victory Day?’ he asked. ‘My film contract and my writing leave me the master of my time. You’ll know, of course, that I’ve done a good many major commentary jobs for Sound O.B.s and I think I understand the different technique for your medium.’
In fact the job had just been promised to Freddie Grisewood, who had had much more pre-war television experience than Dimbleby. But he was happily accepted as a second string. Ian Orr-Ewing, who was then the manager of television outside broadcasts, commented: ‘I think it should be made clear to Dimbleby that Grisewood would have to be responsible for leading, and stopping any tendency of Dimbleby’s to lapse into a “sound” commentary’.
So Dimbleby got his first post-war television job as a commentator on a state occasion. Television reopened for under 100,000 viewers who still had their pre-war sets. The first and only outside broadcast unit, originally used for King George VI’s Coronation, was refurbished and brought back into action. For those interested in both history and television technicalities, Camera 1 was an ordinary Emitron camera with a 12” lens, to give a maximum view down the Mall, Camera 2 was a Super-Emitron with a 20” lens to take close-ups of the King, Mr Attlee and Mr Churchill, and Camera 3 was a second Super-Emitron with a 6″ lens which took a midshot of the columns marching past.
Gorham warned the Controller of Engineering, Harold Bishop, that the gear was still shaky, and sought his help in keeping out VIPs who might want to inspect the unit in the Mall, diagonally opposite King George VI’s reviewing stand. Bishop replied, ‘I will do my best to dissuade visitors, “very important” and otherwise, from going to see the television outside broadcast unit. But even television outside broadcasts can hardly expect to work in a vacuum and even they may have to put up with a few tiresome people like myself, if I feel it is part of my job to pay them a visit!’
Dimbleby was to get to know this problem well. The television equipment, and his own familiar ample figure, would always draw a crowd. He was invariably courteous, and drew the line only at bystanders actually interfering with operations, or demanding autographs during a meal.
Dimbleby’s first post-war outside broadcast was a success, although the picture monitor gave trouble (this was to recur many times in his career) and he complained that the commentary box was the Black Hole of Calcutta. The new television commentator at a major state event had established himself.
Alas, a second television programme planned for the evening of Victory Day was a total failure. Television cables had been laid in advance so that the only outside broadcast unit could leave the Mall immediately after the parade, and park in Victoria Gardens alongside the House of Commons to cover the aquatic display in the Thames.
The weather was so awful that the camera cables would no longer work, and Victoria Gardens were completely under water. Ian Orr-Ewing later to become a Conservative Minister, wrote on 14 June 1946 to the Lord Great Chamberlain’s office to apologise, saying, ‘I hope that we shall have a chance at a later date of doing a programme from the Houses of Parliament as I think they will provide most interesting television material.’
Television had to wait twelve years before it was allowed (with Richard Dimbleby as commentator) to enter the House of Lords.
The problem for a television speaker of avoiding ‘lapsing into a “sound” commentary’ was one which Dimbleby thoroughly understood. Later he put it thus:
‘To turn to television, a good radio commentator must work to a carefully prearranged plan with his producer, for he is no longer his own master, and subordinate himself to the televised picture. In short, he must become an annotator rather than a commentator.’