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South China Morning Post

From radio dog's body to a big mover and shaker in Hong Kong disco

I WAS BORN IN Tidworth Military Hospital (in southern England) in 1956. My father was a medical orderly during the 1956 Suez Crisis and I was conceived on a rooftop in Benghazi (Libya) and flown back to England to be born. My father was doing his National Service. He later went to London Bible College. My maternal grandparents had a wonderful little house in Flitwick, Bedfordshire, where my brother and younger sister were born. Much later, in 1974, my youngest sister was born. My father graduated around 1963 and became a vicar. He was ordained in York Minster and we moved to York, where he became a curate. He wanted his family to see the world so he joined as a chaplain in the British Army. The Reverend Ian Henry Bull, chaplain to the forces. Ian Bull with his children, a young Andrew (centre), Rosemary and Simon, in 1961. Photo: courtesy Andrew Bull WE WENT TO GERMANY and he had his own plane and he would fly off to various parts of Westphalia. After various postings in Germany we got sent to British Guiana, which was the most magical experience when you're eight or nine years old. My brother and I were at boarding school in Yorkshire and we were unaccompanied minors. I had to take my brother to South America from England three times a year. And the and he had his own plane and he would fly off to various parts of Westphalia. After various postings in Germany we got sent to British Guiana, which was the most magical experience when you're eight or nine years old. My brother and I were at boarding school in Yorkshire and we were unaccompanied minors. I had to take my brother to South America from England three times a year. And the BOAC Junior Jet Club 707 used to stop at seven places including Bermuda, Barbados, Antigua and Trinidad before we got to Atkinson Field in British Guiana. I WAS ABOUT NINE when we lived on a sugar-cane plantation. We had a wonderful white house on legs and in the evening we would be allowed to stand at the window and watch the bats before going to sleep under a mosquito net. Next door we could hear the West Indian families listening to steel band music and dancing. There was a lot of calypso in those days. I could hear them making this happy noise, and that affected me. It stayed with me, that I would always like to be responsible for making that noise. Andrew (far left) and his family at St Martin's Church, Shek Kong, welcoming his youngest sister, in 1974. Photo: courtesy Andrew Bull IN 1971, MY FATHER was posted to Hong Kong for two years. I was 14 and I just remember the smell as you came in the early evening. The aroma of dai pai dong food, the honking and the strange vibe – it made an immediate impression. My parents lived in was posted to Hong Kong for two years. I was 14 and I just remember the smell as you came in the early evening. The aroma of dai pai dong food, the honking and the strange vibe – it made an immediate impression. My parents lived in Shek Kong , in the New Territories, in a garden-fringed mini-villa. My father was the chaplain at St Martin's Church, Shek Kong, and he was responsible for the 48th Gurkha Infantry Brigade . They had something called BFBS, which was the British Forces Broadcasting Service . It was on the air three hours a day, from 7pm to 10pm, and it was only in Nepalese. I WORKED THERE as an intern, doing all sorts of odd jobs. Every evening for the broadcast there would be a concrete bunker with a transmitter in it, in a field. There was no air conditioning and the transmitter used to overheat all the time. So someone had to sit on one of those Chinese folding chairs, and then throw the switch on the transmitter every time it tripped. That was my job, which I did while listening to Hindi film tunes. Andrew Bull, aged 19, in the Radio Hong Kong studio in Kowloon Tong. Photo: courtesy Andrew Bull