George Bernard Shaw, rumour had it, was to visit us that afternoon to give a talk for the B.B.C. film we were making, The Voice of Britain. The G.P.O. controlled the land lines of the B.B.C.

True enough, in the early afternoon, a Rolls Royce drove down Bennett Park Road. The only form of red carpet to greet the great man was ‘the Chief’, John Grierson, who shepherded him through the studio to the stage. Having seen him arrive, this august presence, I hopped it to the sound van with Martin, who was now Ed Pawley's assistant and responsible for loading and unloading the sound camera and its magazines.

We could hear what was going on as Grierson played the host. He was not used to being upstaged but, of course, on this occasion he had no rank to pull. But he had to make an attempt to converse with the great man. He went into a lengthy description of how, for the first time in the history of film, we had recorded and shot synchronous sound by means of land line, the coaxial cable and so on and so forth. Shaw obviously listened politely enough and seemed suitably unimpressed as, in his glorious Irish accent, he replied: ‘Very interesting, Mr Grierson, but now perhaps it might be as well if you were to tell me what it is that you would like me to talk about. I imagine you wish me to make a few comments on this B.B.C. that you are filming.’ Grierson replied that that would be splendid, to which Shaw replied: ‘Very well, then perhaps you will permit me to get on with it.’ Grierson assured him that everything was ready and that he could start immediately. ‘And you obviously want me to climb on to the rostrum and sit behind the microphone and start talking when you have half stunned me with your clapper board.’

‘Exactly so, Mr Shaw.’ We heard shuffling of feet, the chair being moved and being sat upon.

‘You can clap me now, I'm ready.’ Nobody dared to ask the great man for a few words so that Ed Pawley could get a level. Oh no. In went the board. Clap and he was off.