Airman in the Grand Stand
Convalescent airmen filled a hastily improvised grand stand of chairs set out on the tow path right opposite the winning post, American troopers gathered on banks behind and Australian airmen filled in points of vantage. The whole show was free, but one bank of the river was reserved for those who had official cards of the race, issued by Cambridge University B.C. When these gave out - there were only about a hundred printed - the county police had to give way, so great was the crush.

Favours Were Worn
Everyone who got to the race regarded it as distinctly an occasion - and favours were worn. As the race was staged on Cambridge waters, light blue naturally predominated. But some prophetic soul had planted an Oxford blue flag to mark the finishing post in front of a step ladder, presumably for the finish judge, the Rev M H Tupper, an old Oxonian, to mount at the psychological moment, but I do not recall that official finding this necessary. With the bar up against launches (on points of speed and wash), the umpire, Captain Stevenson, followed the race on horseback, as did the coaches.

Timed from Winning Post
Another innovation - for the Varsity boat race - was the timing of the race from the winning post, over a telephone line rigged up for the occasion by the Cambridge University Senior Training Corps signals, with the help of local Home Guard, to the starting point of the race. The actual man who held the watch in one hand and a telephone receiver in the other listening for the "are you ready, row" was A Cameron, of Pembroke, a member of last season's Cambridge crew.

Stake Boats had to be Discarded
The crews were not ready when the hour of starting came. "A lump of mud was discovered," one of the oarsmen told me afterwards, that meant the stake boats being discarded and a few yards cut off the length of the race. But the race was the thing, and that provided a great struggle with Cambridge leading by a canvas until half way, where Oxford went ahead to just keep their lead to a great finish. The better crew won, making themselves favourites for the race when they paddled down from Ely past the crowd to the starting point down the river close to Littleport.

Youth and Humour Crowd
This very youthful boat race crowd, full of servicemen, about 5000 strong, against the millions who lined the Thames banks in peacetime, reproduced the typical humour of the old gatherings. They were, for an instance, much amused, while waiting for the crews to hove in sight, by the manoeuvres on one of the banks of a young man with a portable wireless set. He kept on proclaiming himself to be 'Z for Zebra' to the intense delight of the convalescent airmen, who cheered with great gusto everything he said.

Boos, Hisses and Cheers
One of the winning crew told me afterwards how amused he was by the mock booing and hissing of people on the banks (nearly all staunch supporters of Cambridge, the home side) as his crew paddled down to the starting point. But these same people, as I reminded him, gave the dark blue winners a great reception at the finish and joined in the cheer which the beaten crew, as usual, gave for their conquerors. Then the crews paddled back to the Ely boathouses to have tea in town and later dine (at a Cambridge hotel) together, as they had lunched at an Ely hotel before the race. I fancy the losers paid.

An American View
None of the American soldiers at Ely had ever seen the race before and naturally knew little of its standing in this country or long history. One who came from Utah, intrigued me by suggesting that there ought, "To be more boats in the race," adding "But perhaps it was some sort of final!" But even he was very impressed by the racing and voted it "Swell."

Publsihed in 'The Twelfth Man's Sports Gossip' - Monday February 28th 1944