It was 1943 and Melbourne was a sea of Stars and Stripes as US marines, who had gathered here on R&R, enjoyed all the pleasures that this city had to offer (in particular the local women), while our blokes were off fighting the Germans in the Middle East.

When our troops (the Rats of Tobruk) arrived home on a 14-day break predictably all hell broke loose. The rivalry culminated at a free beer party (a last-ditch attempt at bonding) that hosted 10,000 of the competing allies who danced the night away to the strains of a big swing band.

If author, Bryce Courtenay had had his way this true story would now be a top-selling novel but co-producers, Allen Wilde and Russell Haig, pipped him at the post and created a musical, ‘Jump Sugar Jump’, which Wilde hopes will one day be Broadway bound.

After “hundreds of rewrites” the show, which Wilde concedes is still a “work in progress”, will debut at the Chelsea Town Hall later this month.

It’s a slice of history that lends itself perfectly to the stage. With 20 original songs and a storyline that centres around the aggrieved returned diggers who had lost their women to “Yanks in well-cut uniforms, fat pay packets and flashy medals”, it delivers “high drama” and “lots of fun” through a war-time love triangle.

Simon Bartlett’s music and lyrics constitute 60-minutes of the 90-minute production which is being choreographed by former “Tivoli Lovelie”, Gillian Fitzgerald. Showgirls and swing dancers dominate the cast of 30.

“But the eight-piece band is the star of the show,” says Wilde revealing that trumpeting great, James Morrison and his drummer brother, John, have expressed an interest in being part of the show’s final evolution, which will only happen if Wilde and Haig can attract a big name producer and big dollars to give the production the spit and polish it deserves.

Musical director, Michael Oakley, has a personal reason for wanting the show to succeed. His father, a legendary Rat of Tobruk and an army saxophone player, was potentially part of the 1943 Melbourne-based conflict and it’s musical solution.

“Like most diggers he was very reluctant to discuss such things,” says Oakley.

One veteran of the siege of Tobruk, Alan Macfarlane OAM, recalls the emotion-packed scene vividly.

Conceding that there was considerable resentment towards the American marines because of their ability to intrigue and seduce Australian women, he talks of, “us scruffy Australians coming home with only one ribbon” and confronting the Yanks “with medals hanging all over them”.

“They only had to sneeze and they got a Purple Heart,” he chuckles referring to the US medal for bravery.

He recounts a tale that did the rounds of the Seymour barracks about a group of larrikin diggers who grew tired of the boasting Yanks and adorned themselves with strips of toilet paper fastened to their lapels. One cheeky fella tapped a marine on the shoulder, pointed to his Purple Heart and said “Guadalcanal”, then looked at his own ribbons of loo paper and declared “Sew-ez Canal”.