'Nasty nocturnal shifts'

I had two years of Fleet Street nights in the 1970s and wouldn’t have missed a single shift [‘Nasty nocturnal shifts’ go as Reuters merges regional desks]. Great days under the two Jims [Forrester and Flannery]. Great stories (out of thousands of highlights, the fall of Saigon live on the phone, e.g., and, memorably, the sacking of Whitlam written off raw AAP as our corro was off feature-writing in the Pacific). Wonderful friendships, wonderful gastronomic nights (haggis, tatties and neeps or French tripes cooked on a camping gaz stove on the horsemen’s desk). Fortifying pints in the early hours at the Newspaper Workers’ Club, where Telegraph typesetters were hitting the industrial-strength lager with triple Pernod chasers. Speaking to colleagues live on the other side of the world as history was made. Playing chess and bridge in the quiet periods. Time to reflect and de-stress. The quiet relief as the sun rose over St Bride’s. I agree with Mike Rhea, no hemisphere should be left unprotected. ■