by Noel Coward
The most influential of those was Lord Louis Mountbatten—who just happened to be the king's cousin and knew everybody who mattered. In the end it was his weight that tipped the balance. And there was one other key motivation. It was his story. But as the weeks went by and the arguments raged, that in itself began to be a problem.
In September, Mountbatten and his wife, Edwina, are in America, and he writes to Noël with a detailed account of their official doings:
The Plaza
Fifth Avenue at 59th Street
New York
September 16th 1941
My dear Noël,
Jack Wilson has just told Edwina over the telephone that you are not coming out to the States. This is a great blow, as I do feel a meeting between us might have made a difference to your film. May I urge you to send out a copy of the scenario by air mail, preferably via the admirable Robert [Vansittart]?
If you will do this, I will look carefully through the scenario, in case there are any really important points to change …
The Navy Department have gone from extreme secrecy to extreme publicity of the Illustrious [Mountbatten's new command] and sent down a host of camera men. I do not know if any of the newsreels were sent to England; but if they were, you will be amused to see the old technique of breaking up the ship's company, and making them press more closely around me. [It was a technique Noël would use in the film.]
I insisted on all the newspaper men, camera men etc., withdrawing out of earshot when I talked to the men, but in return had to undertake to make a short statement for the newsreel.
The Americans do things in the most extraordinary way. They had no less than seven naval officers on Public Relations duty, and they solemnly suggested that the ship's company should be photographed in “V” formation, with their thumbs up.
I should have been there by now, but for this wretched Senatorial Enquiry into the alleged pro-British activities of the movie industry. [The “isolationists” were still rabid and would remain so until December 7 and Pearl Harbor made their arguments irrelevant.] I have, therefore, put off my visit until the 1st October, in the hopes that the Enquiry will be over, or the situation in this country sufficiently changed to enable me to carry out my programme.
We have both been very busy since we have been here. Edwina is in the middle of her Red Cross tour. She gives a half-hour talk without any notes, and has been a staggering success, often reducing her audience very unexpectedly to tears when describing the quiet courage of the civil population in air raids.
Do you know Miss Jessie Matthews? If so, could you prevail upon her to avoid giving the unfortunate impression which the enclosed cutting produces? It makes it hard for Edwina to convince her audience of the quiet courage of the British women when bombs are dropping round them if statements of the following type are to appear—”… when a police car raced up Park Avenue, its siren screaming, Miss Matthews dropped the glass, spilling the liquid over the dress, leaped to her feet, her face white and her eyes wide with horror and she screamed.” [He then returns to the subject that is really on his mind.]
There has already been talk of your film over here. Someone tells me that the Daily Express carried a front page story that the film was based on the Kelly and that my name was mentioned.
I know you will feel as horrified at this as I do, but what can we do about it? Could you issue a statement that the film is equally based on the Cossack, and destroyers that took part in Dunkirk (which the Kelly did not) and that the Captain (D) is no more me than Philip Vian, or any other captain (D)?
To sum up, whereas I am naturally proud that the story is in part based on the Kelly, I am sufficiently jealous of my own reputation in the Navy to wish to avoid personal publicity in this connection, and rely on you to try and undo any mischief which may have been done.
Yours ever
Dickie
Noël's letter must have crossed with his, but Noël was already anxious to calm Mountbatten's concerns:
September 17th 1941
My dear Dicky,
A great deal has happened since you left, so I will do this letter in sections.
1. Unfortunately the night when Gladys and I came to Chester Street [Mountbatten's London home] … you were feeling ill, if you remember … Jeanie and Kay were there. Jeanie went like an arrow from a bow, apparently, to Beaverbrook and a few days after you had left there was a charming headline in the Daily Express announcing that I was writing and acting a film of the story of your life. This was obviously calculated to put the Admiralty against the whole scheme. I was away at sea with Joe Vian and so knew nothing about it, but Brodger Brooking dealt with it swiftly and efficiently.
Since my arrival back in London I have discovered that a tremendous whispering campaign has been started by Brendan Bracken and Walter Monckton to the effect that it is most unsuitable for me to play a Naval Officer etc., etc. Nothing has been said to me direct but it has been repeated to me on all sides. It has been officially denied by the Admiralty that the film is based on you and also denied by me in the Press.
The scenario is progressing beautifully and I am purposely making it as little like you as possible. The moment the script is completed you shall have it. The Navy, I need hardly say, is supporting me and helping me in every way possible. I have never met so much kindness and eagerness to help. One very good thing is that owing to various preliminaries and lack of floor space at Denham I can't start shooting till mid-December, which means you will be back long before the film is done. I have changed the title from White Ensign to In Which We Serve, I really feel that it is going to be a rouser and I have told Brodger to inform the Admiralty that I shall be doing tests of myself as Captain (D) for a month before we start the actual shooting. These will be shown to anyone in the Admiralty who wishes to see them and if they then feel that I am unsuitable for the part, there will be time to get somebody else. My Captain (D) [Capt. Kinross] is quite ordinary with an income of about £800 a year, a small country house near Plymouth, a reasonably nice looking wife (Mrs. not Lady), two children and a cocker spaniel. I know you will approve of all this.
Noël and Mountbatten take a (somewhat posed) moment to go over a point in the script for In Which We Serve.
Actually I am very angry about the underhand opposition going on but fully realise that the only way to defeat it is by making the picture not only first rate entertainment value but the finest and most dignified tribute to the Navy possible. I have got the best camera man [Ronald Neame] and the best cutter [David Lean] in the business and everything is under control …
I think that's about all the news really except that I had an enchanting three weeks with the Navy and spent a great deal of time in a great many ships and got a great deal of local colour and drank a great deal of gin.
I think the newsreel of you taking over Illustrious is first rate. Gladys and I spent a day in Campbell at Chatham with Captain Pizey and are going down again to Sheerness to see them do action stations. There was quite a flap of excitement about us coming on board and sailors were observed peering out of scuttles and round gun turrets. Gladys was in uniform and one rating was heard to say to another: “Blimey, I didn't know she was going to be a bloody Pongo.” This has stuck and she is now Bloody Pongo for ever. I had a grand time in the Shropshire with Jacko Barrett and the Somali with Donald Bain [he of the most ripping pair of field glasses from Noël's Cornwall days]. The C. in C. was charming to me and I sang to the troops in as many ships as I could get to. The whole trip was a great success and I think you would have been pleased.
I hope all this bloody publicity won't annoy you as much as it annoys me. My voices tell me that disapproval of the project comes from very high up indeed. It is flattering to have such powerful enemies.
All my love to you both and take care of yourselves.
Even some of Noël's oldest and closest friends had their doubts about him as Captain “D.” He wrote to reassure G. B. Stern when she had read the draft
script:
Denham
23/4/42
Dearest Peter—or if you prefer it—Dirty Old Stinkpot, I agree with your criticism of Captain D., but actually he is entirely true. I am hoping that my own personal qualities will eliminate some of the B'Jesus out of him. Seriously, darling, I am so very glad that you think it is so good. I must admit I mind about it being good probably more than anything I've ever done. The Navy has always been so wonderful to me that I really do want to do them proud.
The harassment continued, the most irritating coming from the Ministry of Information and in particular from the head of its Film Department, Jack Beddington, who ordained—as by Holy Writ—that “the film was exceedingly bad propaganda for the Navy, as it showed one of H.M.'s ships being sunk by enemy action.” Permission was refused.
At the end of the year Mountbatten closed that particular door and firmly locked it by submitting the by then finished script to the king himself and received the following handwritten reply:
Buckingham Palace
December 23rd 1941
My dear Dickie,
I return you the script of the Film. I have read it and think it a very good and appealing way of dealing with the subject. Although the ship is lost, the spirit which animates the Royal Navy is clearly brought out in the men and the procession of ships coming along to take its place at the end demonstrates the power of the Navy. I hope it will be a success.
Ever Yours
BERTIE
Collapse of various inflated parties.
THERE WERE Two other sources of irritation that Noël could have done without as the year drew to a close. The first came on October 16 in the shape of a summons. He was accused on two counts of having broken the strict wartime currency restrictions on how much money could be taken out of the country. The irony was that on his “unofficial” trips to the United States he had paid all his own expenses—to the tune of eleven thousand pounds—and it had never been pointed out to him that, in doing so, he was breaking a law he had never heard of. And now a grateful government—or, at least, certain people within it—were determined to hound him further. A second summons related to his business affairs in the United States, a matter that he had always left entirely in Jack Wilson's hands.
Noël saw it as a clear case of wartime “celebrity baiting,” an extension of the media disapproval he'd suffered since the war began. Ivor Novello received comparable treatment for using petrol in excess of the rations. As a result he even served a short prison sentence that undermined his health and almost certainly contributed to his early death.
Noël had, in fact, written to Jack about his income abroad several months earlier:
May 29th, 1941
My dear Jack,
This is a business letter and you know how idiotic I am at business letters but I really am in rather a state because it is only since I have been back that I have discovered the situation re. Englishmen who have any money in America. If the office had not been blitzed and all papers flung into confusion, this would have been attended to before.
This is the situation as far as I can see it. Any money that I have, either in cash or securities, in America must be sent immediately to Barclays Foreign Agency for sale to the British Treasury. As you know, I am in complete confusion as to what I have got and what I haven't and so you must promise to do this immediately because it has got to be done by every English person who wishes to contribute towards winning the War … and even if they didn't, there are terrific penalties attached, to say nothing of scandal and publicity.
I would so loathe for anyone to think for a moment that I was not doing my share in every way. After the War, if I am still sound in wind and limb, I shall just have to set to work and earn it all back again. Please at all costs get this tidied up immediately and please be sure that all future income from any source is sent straight to my account at Barclays, Covent Garden.
When the news of the summons broke, his real friends quickly rallied around. Cochran, for instance, wrote: “I beg you not to worry, I know, and all your friends know, that whatever human faults you may have, you are an extremely honest man. Your integrity can never be in doubt.”
Noël replied:
28/10/41
My dear Cocky,
I can't tell you how touched I was by your very sweet letter. It was so typical of your thoughtfulness and kindness to write it. I need hardly tell you that I am completely guiltless over the whole business and intend to fight it tooth and claw—so very much helped by the complete faith of my real friends.
His counsel, Sir Dingwall Bateson, advised him to plead guilty but opposite advice came from an even stronger quarter—George Bernard Shaw:
4 Whitehall Court
London SWi
26/10/41
Dear Noël Coward,
The other day George Arliss [the film actor], being in trouble about his American securities, pleaded Guilty under the impression that he was only admitting the facts and saving the Lord Mayor useless trouble. There was nothing for it but to fine him £3,000.
Over the years, George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950) gave Noël two good pieces of advice: not to copy him as a playwright and not to plead guilty to a technical wartime currency offense. Noël took both to heart
He should have admitted the facts and pleaded Not Guilty, being as innocent as an unborn lamb. Of course the facts have to be established before that question arises, but when they are admitted or proved they leave the question of the innocence or guilt unsettled. There can be no guilt without intention. Arliss knew nothing about the Finance Clauses, and did not even know that he owned American securities. He was Not Guilty, and should have said so and thereby put his defence in order.
Therefore let nothing induce you to plead Guilty. If your lawyers advise you to do so, tell them that / advise you not to. You. may know all this as well as I do; but after the Arliss case I think it safer to warn you.
GBS
Noël was quick to reply:
17 Gerald Road S.W.i.
28/10/41
DearG.B.S.
I can't tell you how touched and grateful I am for your wise and kindly advice which I will most certainly follow.
I need hardly tell you I am completely innocent over the whole business and have done the best I could since the War began to work for the country. I intend to fight this tooth and claw and feel most enormously encouraged by your great kindness in writing to me.
I haven't seen you for many years and would so like to if you ever have the time.
With again, so very, very many thanks.
Yours,
Noël Coward
Noël did indeed take Shaw's advice. He was fined two hundred pounds and costs, a virtual victory, since the minimum fine was supposed to be five thousand.
When the whole thing was over he cabled Shaw:
DEAR GBS THE RESULT OF MY HAVING FOLLOWED YOUR ADVICE IS ONLY TOO APPARENT STOP I AM ETERNALLY GRATEFUL TO YOU NOT ONLY FOR YOUR WISDOM BUT FOR THE DEEP KINDNESS THAT PROMPTED YOUR MOST OPPORTUNE AND VERY REAL HELP.
With the dust settling, Noël turned his attention to Jack Wilson, who, he felt, should have known and warned him about the situation, particularly since Noël had written to him on that very subject five months earlier. His failure to do so confirmed Noël's suspicion that Jack now had too many irons in the American fire for his (Noël's) comfort.
October 31st, 1941
I am now going to tick you off as you have never been ticked off before. I have just been through one of the most horrible and humiliating ordeals of my life with this finance case. It came at a moment when I, who always hates publicity, dreaded it most. The whole success and construction of my Naval film depends on the generous and magnificent support the Admiralty are giving me. This might at any moment have been withdrawn because they obviously cannot support a man who is dragged through the courts and who is prosecuted by the Crown for evasion of his financial responsibilities to the Government.
Yesterday in the police court it was considered by experts that on the facts I could be fined anything between £5,000 and £61,000. This, as you know, I could not possibly have paid and so should have had to go to prison. Fortunately my own personal integrity is unimpeachable, although my own personal idiocy in paying 5th rate accountants and allowing subordinates to let me down to the dust was only too apparent. I was fined £200 and £20 costs by the Magistrate thereby proving that English justice is not only based on legal facts but on moral ones as well. The Press, for once, have been kind and reported the whole case accurately with a slight bias in my favour. None of this justifies the fact that I was never told either by you or Hobbs or Dubois [Noël's accountants] or Lorn that since August 26th, 1939 it was illegal for me to spend one dollar of my American money. The fact that neither the Ministry of Information nor the British Ambassador told me either certainly mitigated in my favour but on the whole, although I left the court yesterday without a stain on my character, I feel sickeningly ashamed that such a horrible and undignified situation should ever have occurred. I had a brilliant counsel. I had my personal conviction that I was innocent. And I had a most heartening and charming letter from Bernard Shaw out of the blue the day before imploring me to plead Not Guilty. I am thankful to say I followed this advice.
Unfortunately, my troubles are not yet over, as I am being prosecuted by the Lord Mayor on the question of securities undeclared in time. In this instance I am personally equally innocent and the Government have not actually lost anything by my default and so I hope to be treated leniently but the fact remains that I have to appear in court at the Mansion House next Thursday and go through the whole business again with, presumably, a further fine. Whether the Lord Mayor views my case as generously and kindly as the Bow Street Magistrate did remains to be seen. [The local Bench of Magistrates fined him two thousand pounds.]