In my last post, I talked about the unfortunate propaganda leaflet printers who had to endure an enforced stay at their factory when D-Day was postponed for 24 hours. The Allied soldiers waiting for Operation Overlord to begin would be cooped up in marshalling areas across southern England and Wales for much longer. Entertainment was an important way to ease tension and calm the nerves before the big day.
From May 1944, tens of thousands of soldiers started to be deployed to high-security holding camps. Civilians were strictly prohibited from visiting the camps to maintain the secrecy of the operation, but the guards and fencing were there just as much to keep the troops from wandering off. Although desertion came with a prison sentence of up to 10 years, there was a steady stream of men going AWOL in Britain throughout the war, and authorities needed every available body for the invasion. 1 By sealing the men off from the outside world, the War Office would be able to prevent deserters from skipping off to their favourite haunts to disappear, such as London, Leeds, or Liverpool.2

Image: DUKWs pass Sherman tanks of 13th/18th Royal Hussars, Gosport, 2 June 1944. IWM (H 38992)
Even the War Office understood, however, that trying to maintain soldiers' morale under lock and key for weeks on end whilst tensions over an impending operation simmered was a recipe for disaster. The troops needed something to take their minds off the impending invasion. Consideration of this important topic was all part of the Overlord planning. A memo dated 28 January 1944 stated that marshalling areas containing more than 1500 men would require recreation tents, and that stages were to be built by the NAAFI.3 Whilst cinemas and service concert parties (like ‘Stars in Battledress’) were allowed in the camps, the War Office memo was adamant that civilian “ENSA parties not to be used in marshalling areas” as the risk was too great.

Image: ENSA concert party rehearsing at Hindhead before D-Day. (Source: Fighting for a Laugh by Richard Fawkes.)
Less than four months after this memo, however, it became clear that the soldiers needed more than Mickey Mouse cartoons, as discipline in the camps was suffering, with little to do but worry, and the authorities became concerned about breakouts.4 The War Office approached Drury Lane to supply ENSA shows to perform in the secret camps. ENSA was already preparing to provide 12 mobile columns for the Second Front, so they had 144 artistes waiting for orders to follow behind Operation Overlord.5 Entertainment Officers were appointed to each camp and shows became a regular feature for the restless troops.
By this time, ENSA artistes were wearing uniforms ready for their work overseas and had been thoroughly briefed on the need for secrecy. Some lapses in security, however, were perhaps inevitable. Show business stars love a good anecdote, and Richard Fawkes shares a few in his book, Fighting for a Laugh6
After playing for troops billeted at the West Ham Football ground, Geraldo and his musicians were asked to sign autographs on the only pieces of paper the men possessed – French francs issued that morning. And Brian Oulton was told by a Naafi manager that something must be happening because the boys had all been paid in francs.
I’ve not been able to find a reference to the Upton Park being used, but West Ham Greyhound Stadium was noted as Marshalling Area ‘T4’ with a capacity of 2000 soldiers and 500 vehicles.7 A healthy pinch of salt needs to be taken with any of these show business anecdotes.

Image: Still of Tommy Trinder in the Ealing Comedy film, Sailors 3 (1940).
Another story, which would be nice if true, involved Tommy Trinder giving a show at a camp in Canning Town (Marshalling Area T2 & T3 with a camp capacity of 4,300 men and 1065 vehicles):8
When we arrived, a sergeant came up to us and said, “Who’s doing the announcing?” I thought he meant who was compering the show so I said that I was. He gave me a list of troop movements, and I knew the invasion was going to start that night. I looked at this list and thought, I’m not supposed to have this! I went to the CO and asked if he really wanted me to announce it. He was horrified and made me promise not to divulge what I had read to a soul, otherwise he was going to keep me there until the operation was over.
A likely story Mr Trinder! However unlikely these stories from the stage might be, it is reassuring that the men enjoyed a laugh or two before Operation Overlord. Alan Moorehead, the journalist, writes about the surreal experience at a camp in early June 1944:9
Some of the soldiers were lying on the grass near the recreation tent. They were talking and listening to a radio loudspeaker hanging from one of the trees. A disembodied dialogue was coming out of the marquee marked Camp Cinema, and occasionally there was a burst of laughter from the audience inside.
Entertainment provided a few moments of calm before the storm.
1 David French, Raising Churchill’s Army: The British Army and the War against Germany; 1919 - 1945, 1. publ. in paperback (Oxford Univ. Press, 2001), p. 141.
2 Charles Glass, The Deserters: A Hidden History of World War II (The Penguin Press, 2013), pp. 94–96.
3 ‘WO 208/2094 Security Measures; NAAFI and ENSA Parties’, TNA [The National Archives], n.d., WO 208/2094 Security measures; NAAFI and ENSA parties.
4 Basil Dean, The Theatre at War (George G. Harrap & Co. Ltd, 1956), p. 392.
5 Dean, The Theatre at War, p. 393.
6 Richard Fawkes, Fighting for a Laugh: Entertaining the British and American Armed Forces, 1939-1946 (Macdonald and Jane’s, 1978), p. 152.
7 https://wartimes.ca/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/D-Day-Assembly-Areas.pdf
8 Fawkes, Fighting for a Laugh, p. 153.
9 Alan Moorehead and Lucy Moorehead, Eclipse (Sphere, 1978), p. 88.
