YOU’D have to be living on Mars not to know that The King’s Speech, a film about King George VI’s fight to overcome his stammer, is hotly tipped for Oscar glory.

But did you know that his first public speech was made right here, in Dorset?

The year was 1919.

The day was May 8, a sunny Thursday and there was high excitement at the Russell-Cotes Nautical School in Parkstone. Because it’s not every day a Prince comes visiting.

Albert – as he was then called– arrived by train, alighting first at Bournemouth to visit the East Cliff Hall home of Sir Merton and Lady Russell-Cotes.

There followed a pleasant lunch at the Royal Bath Hotel and a drive through the Central Pleasure Gardens, accompanied by the Mayor of Bournemouth and the cheering crowds.

Most images we have of George show him accompanied by his consort, Elizabeth.

But in 1919 he was still single, painfully shy, and harbouring a terrible secret.

He stammered so badly that sometimes when he opened his mouth, nothing would come out, as the early scenes in The King’s Speech so painfully reveal.

It was frustrating at the best of times, but a disaster for a King-Emperor in an era when speech impediments still carried the cruel taint of the ‘idiot’.

The Daily Echo shows him dressed in his Royal Air Force uniform, trowel in hand, preparing to lay the Nautical School’s foundation stone.

Buried deep in our report was the telling line: “His speech at the conclusion of this ceremony was simple, direct, and encouraging to the scheme.”

Thanks to Colin Firth’s award-winning portrayal of George, we now know how much making even this little speech must have cost him.

He visited again, ten years later, to address the National Savings Assembly. It was described as ‘a purely private visit’ but that didn’t stop the crowds from cheering, or him having to make yet another public address.

“It is most necessary,” he said, “That the youth of the nation – who may be called upon to lead in the future – should be trained to possess the right outlook on thrift and extravagance and acquire the right attitude of mind that will best serve them if they are to fulfil their duties adequately.”

Within ten years these observations became stark reality, as Prince Albert was catapulted from Duke of York into becoming King of a nation hurtling towards war.

But, like his people, this war turned out to be George’s finest hour.

Accompanied by Elizabeth he toured the land, making endless morale-boosting visits.

On October 20, 1941, the editor of the Daily Echo received a mysterious letter from the Air Ministry, informing him that: “On Thursday October 23 instant there will be an inspection of Canadian personnel recently arrived in this country, and serving in the Royal Air Force.

“The inspection will be made by a very high personage…”

In the event there were two high personages, word spread like wildfire and hundreds rushed to witness ‘the King in the uniform of an Air Marshall’ and the queen ‘dressed in a lavender colour, with hat and handbag to match’.

“Men and girls in overalls lined the balconies and roof parapets of tall buildings round the place of inspection,” we reported, describing how airmen broke ranks to “Rush pell-mell to where their Majesties were about to enter their car.”

Twenty-two years after making his first speech in public just up the road, George’s laughter proved he had finally conquered his demons.