David Chipp

CHIPP!

The world will be a duller place without the sheer exuberance of Chipp! (David always introduced himself with an emphatic exclamation mark.) A combative but ever courteous journalist, he was one of my most influential mentors, always practising and demanding the highest professional standards. He was also a warm family friend. Our paths crossed many times over the years.

The very first time was when, as a rather nervous student, I went for a rather intimidating boardroom interview to join Reuters. David, an assistant to the General Manager, encouraged me before leading me into the arena - and cheered me up with a beer in his office afterwards.

Some years later David visited Saigon soon after I had taken over as Bureau Chief. He was by then Reuters’ Manager for South East Asia, and my overall boss. The American war in Vietnam was gathering pace. David’s arrival coincided with a serious Viet Cong attack in the city. He came straight to the office from the airport, rolled up his shirtsleeves, grabbed a typewriter and said: “Tell me what to do!” He then subbed copy, wrote sidebars and ran the wireroom until the story subsided. However senior an executive, David was always a hands-on agency journalist.

We then went on to a private briefing that I had arranged with Barry Zorthian, the powerful head of ‘public affairs’ in South Vietnam. My agenda was to persuade David that the Saigon bureau had to be reinforced in order to expand our coverage of the war. We had some good local staff but I was Reuters sole international staffer in Vietnam. The American news agencies had already sent in football teams of reporters and photographers, and even AFP had three French correspondents. Zorthian stressed the importance of Vietnam as a world story and the need for Reuters to be competitive. “What are you going to do about it, David?” he asked, and then gave him the advice I wanted to hear: “You have to commit more troops.”

Without hesitation, as if stating the obvious, David replied decisively: “I shall immediately triple the international staff, and the bureau will be up to five full correspondents within six months.” Zorthian looked sceptical and said: “Fine words, David, but what if your masters in London don’t agree?” Chipp (!) stood up, squared his shoulders and declared: “I am the master of Asia. If my colleagues disagree, I shall resign!” He was as good as his word. Within a few months Reuters had a five-man international team in Saigon.

Not only that, but David, always a thoughtful boss, wrote immediately afterwards to my fiancée in France, Marie-Hélène, to tell her he had found me in good spirits in Saigon. He became a lifelong friend of our whole family.

Much later, after retiring from the Press Association, David served Reuters again as Director of the Reuters Foundation. It was a part-time post which he tackled with full-time enthusiasm, for five years, along with many other ‘retirement’ activities. It was a distinguished act to follow, as I discovered in due course when I was appointed as David’s successor. But he gave me the fullest support and encouragement as I took on the task of expanding the Foundation’s range of activities. And he proved again to be the most entertaining of travelling companions as we visited some of the universities associated with the Foundation’s study programmes, and met up with David’s extraordinary network of close friends among former ‘student’ journalists around the world.

Finally, my last memory, very recent: as Editor of Stationers’ News, I asked David, a Liveryman of the Stationers’ Company, to write a report for the newspaper about an after dinner speech by Sir Christopher Meyer, chairman of the Press Complaints Commission. David had, of course, been a longtime and influential member of the Commission. No problem. He produced, as we would all expect, an impeccable piece, finely crafted, exact wordage, right on time. The only problem is that, sadly, he won’t be around for the convivial lunch that I had planned, whenever we were both next in London, to say thank you for the report. And that, for me, is a very great loss. ■