Awali days

Mike Knight, a former sales executive, radio station manager and DJ_is now a civil servant living in Luxembourg. He is sharing his magical memories of Awali School with a series of articles in GulfWeekly about life in the Bahrain of yesteryears. Right, Mike then and now

Sitting down at my PC to try and encapsulate my time at Awali School is both easy and extremely difficult!

Easy, because I have lots to recall - and difficult, because there is a great deal that I have forgotten over the years.

I actually think that it misses the point by a mile just to talk about Awali School on its own.

In fact, it was the entire Awali experience which touched so many people, yours truly included.

So, whilst this article will indeed contain memories from the school in the middle of Awali Camp - I feel that I should try and explain, even for my own peace-of-mind, perhaps why just why all the people who lived in Awali have such a special bond with the place.

Firstly, some Knight family history. My father Charlie had served in the Merchant Navy, and during the Second World War, in the Royal Navy.

During his service years, towards the end of the war, he met a shy Wren called Muriel Moss - his future wife, and my future mother (Pictured above).

Mum tells me that she was frightened of him when they first met - and that she used to hide every time he came near.

Fortunately, dad was a persistent admirer; otherwise I would not be here today!

In life, even in such difficult times as WW2, there are occasionally small stories that bring a chuckle to the fore.

My father was stationed in Ireland, and being ever inventive, had managed to somehow rear a turkey which he was "fattening up" ready for Christmas.

He intended to try somehow to get this bird back to Manchester, where my mum was by then living. Rationing was still enforced, and movement of all foodstuffs was very tightly controlled, so there was no way that he could "legally" get the turkey back - so he hit on a plan.

One of his friends was being demobbed (returned to civilian life) just before Christmas, so the timing was perfect, my father somehow convinced this guy to stuff the now slaughtered turkey into the very bottom of his kit bag, and to smuggle it back to Manchester - and then to deliver it to my grandmother as a special surprise.

He included a note with the bird, asking that my grandmother somehow communicate back to him, that she had indeed actually received it.

He cautioned her that she in no way should say she had received a turkey - otherwise he would be up on a charge!

So - Nana Moss decided to send him a telegram, all she wrote was "...Baby arrived safely..."

In those days, the Navy censored all communications, and this telegram was read by dads commanding officer. Dad was duly called up in front of him.

The CO handed dad the telegram - and extended his hand saying "congratulations Knight - I guess you will need compassionate leave to go see your new baby!"

So it was, that my quick witted father turned up in Manchester in time for Christmas dinner - to eat the so called "baby"!

The real "baby" did not appear until after they married in 1946. Michael Knight - born November 9, 1948.

This story just illustrates one aspect of the kind of experiences almost all the early employees of Bapco might have had just prior to migrating to Bahrain.

Continues next week