the cautionary tale of Brian Bennett

Who could always be relied upon to go where others did not dare to tread.

(With apologies to Hilaire Belloc)

[Brian and Dawn Bennett - click for full size picture]

B. Bennett, from his early years,

Was clearly never cursed by fears.

When Mama said: “Now Brian, pet,

You must not get yourself upset

By ghosties, ghoulies, nightly screams

That may appear to haunt your dreams.”

He’d simply close his eyes awhile

And smile his beatific smile;

Then taking mental sword in hand

Prepare to battle with that band.

And so it was throughout his life

Which had more than its share of strife,

Until his courage earned reward

From Sea Containers’ mighty Board.

“He is the man for us,” said Turner;

“I commend him as an SC earner.

With his great pluck he will go far.

We’ll send him to the Côte d’Ivoire.”

“That’s good,” said Jim, “My master plan       

Calls for a man in Abidjan,

Where, midst the gaudiest bandannas

He’ll no doubt drive himself bananas.”

And as his courage met the test

It brought from Brian all the best

Of his intrepid skills galore

In Hydrabad and Singapore.

He boasted that twas no disgrace

For such as he to know his place:

[Midst gun and bomb in Zanzibar,

Or drugs and Dons  in Bogotà].

Alas the tides ran out and so

Behind a desk he had to go

Where hidden by the paper piles 

You’d find him wreathed in friendly smiles,

Whilst proof-reading the latest gag

From GESeaCo’s in-house mag.

Possessive case and plural nouns

Produced no forehead-creasing frowns

(For sure he never lost the case

In Lagos – or some other place!)

In years to come they’ll tell the story

Of BEB’s resounding glory.

London, July 2001

Brian Bennett worked alongside me (hierarchically speaking) in Sea Containers and had the misfortune to be presented with my territory of West Africa when I relocated to Hong Kong.  Hence the reference to bananas and the Côte d’Ivoire.  But, even before this (and afterwards) it was his lot to travel on Company business to some of the major trouble spots in the Middle East, Africa and elsewhere and return with some hair-raising stories.  The verse was composed for his retirement party [click on link].

The reference to "losing the case" referred to an occasion when a travel report I wrote on my visit to West Africa so excited James Blair (Jim) Sherwood the President of Sea Containers, that nothing would suffice save that he join me for the next trip.  The good news was that we travelled first class KLM.  There was no other good news.  He was so discomfited by conditions at Ikeja Airport (Lagos) that he placed his brief case on the floor and promptly forgot about it.  I was occupied in checking that all our baggage was safely collected and stored in a taxi.   It did not occur to me to check for his brief case, since the assumption had to be that he continued to carry it himself.

When the taxi arrived at our hotel, Jim Sherwood could not find his brief case and wanted to know what I had done with it.  You don't tell the Head Honcho of your Company that it was his business to look after his own briefcase, although I came as close as I could to doing so without risking my career.  We immediately returned to the airport but, of course, found nothing.  For the best part of two days I suffered his continual panic attacks as he discovered more and more missing items that were essential to his comfort. 

On the point of taking off for a premature return to London, he received a phone call from the KLM airport station manager to say that they had found a briefcase in their office that apparently belonged to him.  The station master's wife had seen it on the floor of the arrival lounge and had placed it in the office for safe-keeping.

For the remainder of my service in Sea Containers I was never allowed to forget the fact that "Joe Sinclair lost the President's bag"!