THE REPORT - Roy Rowland Johnson.
Greetings, to everyone from the Midvention!
It's a pity you could not all have been there. (Why should We be
the only ones to suffer?!)
The Midvention, be it known, was finally held not in Birmingham
-but in Leicester. Despite considerable efforts under difficult
conditions on the part of Arthur Busby and Tom Hughes - for which
we would like to thank them both sincerely - a convention in
Birmingham was found, at the last moment, to be hopeless. The city
was immediately changed to Leicester, where the poor unsuspecting
Director had to take on the job of sub-committee, and by an equal
amount of hard work and good luck, managed to get something ready
for Easter. The difficulties which piled in were overcome, and by
April 22nd, everything was ready.
Friday the 23rd, was comparatively quiet. Only B.H. Edwards ("Eddie"),
from Bristol was expected, but bookleteer Arthur Williams arrived just
as I was about to go to the station to meet him, so we both went.
Most of day was spent carrying auction stuff down to the hall, consuming
food and, of course, talking. We talked until midnight, in fact, in Eddie's
room at the Belmont Hotel (where most of the visitors stayed).
On Saturday I arose at the ghastly hour of 5.15am to
receive the day's first arrivals, Bert Lewis and - guess who! - That Man
Holmes.
Bert Lewis:
Most of the regular fans were either in the forces or on war work, but some young fans
in Leicester had enough time to organise a convention. Luckily, this event was
held in summer, on a Saturday. I managed to get a spot of leave and travelled to Leicester
by rail. It was an overnight journey with two changes of train - each of these changes
involved a long wait. Due to the rationing, no food was available on the journey. I was
met at the station at 8 a.m., by the young organiser who took me back to his home where
his mother cooked me a very welcome breakfast. This gesture can only really be appreciated
by someone who has been through war time rationing.[2]
We collected Art and Eddie after breakfast, and made our way to the
hall. There, Art showed a considerable interest, and Ron a considerable
skill, in the use of the sword - there were two there ready for the
ill-fated excerpt from the "Warlord of Mars".
Terry Overton, Arthur Gardner, Don Houston, Peter Knott, Arthur Busby, and
Tom Hughes arrived at various times during the morning - or did these last
two come after lunch? I'm not quite certain.
Terry Overton:
Left home 9.00 p.m. Good Friday; left Cardiff (in an air raid, by the way) at
11.05 p.m., and thence fairly comfortably to Gloucester arriving approx. 1.00 a.m.
Easter Saturday. At 2.30 I was still there. At 2.45 I caught a train scheduled
for the wilds of the North. For some reason or other we failed to follow the usual
route, journeying instead via the Welsh border counties.
Much to my surprise we were not very late in getting to Brum, where my journey
would have ended but for the fact that the Midvention had just been transferred to
Leicester. And so I went on. Got to Burton an hour late but this was O.K. as I'd
had two hours to wait and as it was the bookstall opened soon after, so my time
was occupied for quite a while.
By some miracle I ultimately got to Leicester a quarter of an hour early. RRJ had
promised to meet me so I sat down.
Kimberley Road is easy to find if you know where to look. I didn't. Again, the
way from the station is all uphill and my suitcase was heavy. For my own sake I
will skip what happened until I got to the Convention Hall where I was assured
they had gone. (I had grave doubts.)
I found myself ultimately in a room which, being stacked with pro and fan
mags, was I presumed my destination. There was but one person present, who upon
my entering leapt to his feet. He was Bert Lewis.
Later I met the rest, did a good deal of book hunting, collected in a good few
magazines from sundry sources and resigned from my position as co-ed on Colossus
due to differences between my conception of editorial policy and D.H's. All was
performed in a very friendly manner.[3]
We decided to depart somewhat from the programme: preliminary speeches and
ceremonies were run together immediately after lunch, followed by the
auction - which was definitely the high-spot of the convention. The main
donors were Douglas Webster, Michael Rosenblum and Terry Overton. The main
buyer was Peter Knott from Northampton, who spent about 30/-.
Ron Holmes, as auctioneer, put up a very good show indeed - he managed
to get, for instance, 5/2d for a portfolio of Finlay illustrations given
by DWLW, 6/3d for a model duralumin space-ship, given by RRJ.
Bert Lewis:
The 'con' was to be held in a small room in the local school, courtesy of a friend of
the organiser. As was to be expected, only 15 to 20 fans managed to attend. We did a lot
of talking and the organiser produced a fencing sword and imitated John Carter of
Burroughs's Martian Trilogy.
It was good fun but the highlight of the event was still to come. As in present day
conventions, the auction of S.F. items aroused a great deal of interest. It consisted
mainly of books and American Science Fiction Magazines. In spite of the low attendance
these were quickly snapped up. The final item, though provoked the greatest interest.
It was a shining metal model of a spaceship made by the organiser's father who was an
engineer at the local works. The bidding was keen even though wages and pocket-money
were low at the time. When the bidding reached two pounds I began to despair. Then it
went up to two guineas; an absolute fortune in those days. I raised it to two pounds
five shillings and prayed. Luckily it was just enough and I clinched it. As it was all
metal it was very heavy but its beauty outweighed any fault.[2]
Tea followed the auction at 5.00 p.m., and with it the first departure -
that of Peter Knott.
The evening session was taken up, mainly, with two items, first of which
was a short musical programme. There were some very fine Caruso recordings
of Wagnerian operas, besides the three pieces listed on the programme. The
swing jazz, or whatever it is, was provided by the versatile Mr Holmes
at the piano. Arthur Gardner, at the organ, and RRJ at the piano, also
tried the B flat Minor Piano concerto of Tchaikowsky, but since neither
could play their respective instruments, the result was not over-encouraging....
Then came the debate. *Mr* Lewis (to drop into the parlance of the debating-room)
proposed that "there should be no precise line of demarcation between s-f and
Fantasy"; Mr. Overton opposed the motion. Both speakers presented their
sides of the question but no-one seemed to have a clear idea even in his own mind
as to whether there should be a line of demarcation or not, and we seemed to
be arguing at cross-purposes for most of the time.
We all saw Bert Lewis, Arthur Busby, and Tom Hughes to the station, and then the
rest of us just killed time.
Ron Holmes, who went to a dance, became involved in an amusing - and almost
embarrassing - incident, to which he fleetingly referred in his own sheet last
month, and the full story of which will doubtless be told elsewhere, at some
time or other.
The first session on Sunday saw quite an amount of fencing, in lieu of the
Warlord scene, which could not be produced after all. Ron Holmes - who
incidentally is about 6'-1" - is a really good fencer; I wouldn't mind
facing him fully armoured and padded, preferably using epees, but we used
naked sabres - weapons, not sporting equipment .....
Ron Holmes:
Roy Johnson and I had never met, but we were both swordsmen of a sort so it seemed
to be a good idea to have a bout. We were to enact a scene from 'Warlord of
Mars', he to be John Carter and I Tars Tarkas. The casting being that way because
I was taller. In the event, when we came to practice, he produced real sabres for
us to use. He was very much smaller than I (I'm over six foot) and wore glasses.
I did not think he looked the part very much, but when we practiced I could see
that I had the superior weight and strength of arm and eventually I decided not
to go on practicing because I thought it was dangerous. He was rather disappointed.[4]
During the rest of the morning, we had the non-stfical Brains Trust. From
one question the fact emerged that Ron Holmes is an anarchist, Art Williams
socialist, Terry Overton conservative, Don Houston sensible enough
to have no definite views yet, and RRJ - see elsewhere!
We managed to squeeze in the second auction before lunch. George Ellis - who
with Ron Lane had just arrived from Manchester - then paid 10/6d. for the
FFM.
Lunch was taken at 108 Kimberley Road since no cafes were open, and then
Ron Holmes departed - or, rather, "made a departure"!. We were sorry to lose him.
Just before lunch, I forgot to mention we took several photographs, some of
which we hope to be able to include with this report. 'Nuff said!
The science-fictional Brain Trust - and use I the singular 'Brain'
advisedly - came in the afternoon, Don Houston put up a good show, but it was
Terry Overton who shone, possessing as he does an almost fantastically,
ridiculously detailed knowledge of back-numbers of mags, etc., - and what a
memory that must require.
Tea was taken, like lunch, at 108 Kimberley Road, since it was impossible to
have it either in the hall or at a cafe, and afterwards we wandered around
town, first seeing off the first arrival, Arthur F. Williams. Eventually we
all congregated at the Johnson homestead, where cards, darts, etc, became
the order of the day.
Monday morning saw the departure of B.H. Edwards, and the remaining few
just wandered around Leicester, finally drifting back to the hall where
discussions and music soon took up the remaining time before lunch, which,
minus Terry Overton who caught the 12-55 train to Cardiff, we took
as usual at 108 - necessitating a longish walk which yours truly protested
against vigorously. (Being as lazy physically as JFParr says he is morally!)
The afternoon was spent in much the same way, Don Houston and I going into
conference over the new mag "Phoenix" (formerly "Colossus") which may or may,
not see the light of day. Arthur Gardner left us then, catching the 'bus to
Warwick just outside the hall.
With only four of us there, the whole place seemed dead. We had the devil of
a time clearing up - Ron Holmes had hidden numerous copies of the FANTAST
Reclining Torso! - and, at 5.30p.m, left the hall for the last time.
Bug-eyed monsters, and Weird Tales, came up, I remember, during and after tea.
Ron and George left just after eight. Don departed next morning - Tuesday,
27th. - and I came back to the station feeling somehow depressed. I went into
a fit of melancholy for about three hours.
I don't know whether to call the convention a success or not. There were only
about fourteen visitors, and that naturally seriously hampered our activities.
The programme wasn't strictly adhered to either. Moreover, several of the
visitors could only stay a short time. But everyone seemed to have an enjoyable
time ; all had the pleasure of meeting others of their ilk, too, and for this
alone, the convention was worth-while for whatever "Radcliffe" may say, fans
are darned good fellows, and meeting them is a very great pleasure.
Farewell, then, to everyone, from the Midvention.
- MIDVENTION REPORT (1943, d/w FUTURIAN WAR DIGEST #26)
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Postscript (2003) - Roy (Rowland) Johnson:
I have just had an amazing, and perhaps a disturbing experience.
Surfing idly through e-bay last evening, I came across some offers of Astounding Science
Fiction. I did not bid, but it set my mind back to long ago when I used to read s-f, and
on impulse, not expecting anything, I asked Google for "Midvention". You can imagine my
surprise when the very first item referred to the 1943 Leicester Midvention I organised,
along with my own name (R. Rowland Johnson in those days - an affectation which amused me
at the time, I can't imagine why).
Damme, anyone in the world can now discover, utterly obscure though I
was and am, that in the middle years of WWII I was in Leicester, and Manchester, and Leeds,
and climbing Pendle Hill. Perhaps more embarrassing (though it amused my wife) was the
account of the little swashbuckling Ron Holmes and I indulged in at the Midvention. (For
the record: I went on to captain my college fencing team, and I believe that by that time I
would have caused friend Ron some problems, strong wrist or not. It is true that I produced
real sabres: fencing equipment was very difficult to come by during the war, and friends and
I used to go to junk shops to buy old army sabres, bayonets, whatever, with which we practiced
enthusiastically. This explains why I still have a scar on my right thumb, the result of using
an old French bayonet with no guard, and another near the bottom of the thumb, the result of
making a pig-awful attempt at a stop-hit.)
An unrelated point: at the time of the Midvention I was busy working (though not much) for my
School Certificate (approx. = G.C.E.), at the then Wyggeston Grammar School. One of my
contemporaries - as, later, at University College, Leicester, for a year before he went up to
Cambridge - was David Attenborough.
I am amused to recall, from those schooldays, that a physics master predicted with some
irritation the career I would have ahead of me. He had some cause for being irritated, since
instead of attending to his waffling about gold-leaf electroscopes or whatever, I was sitting
at the back of the lab reading - the Futurian War Digest. It was when he saw the title that he
said he could give me a digest of my future - as a road-sweeper. I took some satisfaction from
eventually gaining more, and better degrees than he had ever thought of.[5]
[1] "How I Missed the 1943 Midvention", 1998 (his website)
[2] Article 'Kimota' website, 1989
[3] GALAXY #7 (July 1943, ed. Overton)
[4] Letter to Hansen
[5] Email to Hansen, 17 November 2003
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Scans and OCR/copyediting by Greg Pickersgill.
B R I T I S H