Nova Scotia's Tattoo has been striking a royal chord for 30 years.

This July(2008) will see the 30th performance of the Royal Nova Scotia International Tattoo, in Halifax. As a member of the production team and the master of ceremonies, I recall that when it all began in 1979, it was neither royal nor international. It was, however, a spectacular piece of pageantry, and so it has remained.

Six months before that first Nova Scotia Tattoo in 1979, Colonel Ian Fraser was charged with a daunting task: organizing the best show that the city of Halifax had ever seen as the opening event of the first International Gathering of the Clans in Nova Scotia. It was the first Gathering to be held outside Scotland and Elizabeth The Queen Mother was scheduled to attend.

With so notable a guest and such a short timeline, Colonel Fraser may have had misgivings, but there was no-one better prepared for the task. In 1967, he had produced and toured the Canadian Forces' Centennial Tattoo, with its massed bands, drills, gymnastics and parades. The enthusiasm generated by that event convinced Colonel Fraser that something similar-highlighting the Canadian Forces and mixing in whatever the civilian community might provide-would be a worthy challenge. The 30 highly successful shows since are a testament to the colonel's drive, limitless imagination, and his total inability to think small.

Anyone connected with that first show will never forget it. The event seemed to have disaster stamped all over it. Only three hours before the opening show, the 5 p.m. dress rehearsal was remarkably disorganized. Colonel Fraser, who was still a serving officer, gave all hands an imperial blast over the public address system, told us to rearrange ourselves and do it again properly. The Canadian Forces members did as ordered, but the Metro Centre staff had a union contract that said they would have a half hour for supper, and no arguments, thank you! So while they ate, the tired, hungry and slightly disgruntled cast dug deep and did a very decent dress rehearsal. There was just time to gulp a sandwich and a coffee, and away we went. Her Majesty arrived at the stroke of 8 p.m., walked up the steps to the VIP section looking every bit the gracious queen, and sat down to enjoy the show. She was so impressed that she presented Colonel Fraser with an autographed picture of herself, which her staff assured him was a very rare thing.

Every Tattoo has had its small disasters. Most go unnoticed by the audience-and a good thing, too-but there was one glitch that the audience couldn't help but see. In one scene, eight soldiers were to rappel down from the lighting grid to the floor. Seven made it but number eight somehow got his line tangled, and stopped short about halfway between the lights and the floor. There he dangled, watching the show below, until a cherry picker rescued him during intermission. His section leader's comments were not recorded.

Then there was the great pipes and drums mix-up in 1979. Pipe bands gathered at both ends of the arena. They were supposed to march toward each other, meet in the centre and form a circle for the Highland dancers. Everything went according to plan, but when the bands met, they discovered that they were playing different tunes. As far as we can remember, nobody mentioned it, but we wondered why the director of music was seen to be tearing out what was left of his hair.

An audience favourite for about 13 years, the band of the United States Marine Corps from Quantico, Va., was impeccably turned out for every show. Their foot drill and their instrument drill dazzled everyone. They loved performing in the Tattoo; they loved the city, the beer, the girls (one even married a local militia member), but their masters in the Pentagon must have heard that they were too much admired and having too much fun, and abruptly cancelled all future visits. They're still missed today.

Another favourite group was the motorcycle display team of the Berlin Police Force. They raised a few eyebrows on their first visit, when observers noticed that the container holding their motorcycles, uniforms and various props also held three weeks' supply of German beer. Apparently they didn't think Canadians knew anything about brewing.

Now, after 30 years, the Tattoo is truly international in content. Two years ago, it was given "Royal" designation by the Queen. Recognized as one of the biggest and best indoor shows in the world, it has drawn almost a million people from all over the globe. One visitor from the US summed up the spirit of it all pretty well when he said that, upon hearing his country's national anthem performed by 300 musicians and a 225-voice choir, he came to attention with such alacrity that he would probably suffer whiplash for a week.

The best efforts of the 2,000 performers and people who support them notwithstanding, none of the show's success would have come about if not for the steadfast commitment of the Canadian Forces and the singers, musicians, dancers, actors, secretaries, and volunteers who blend so effortlessly, and who want nothing more than to show the world we're as good as any and better than most.