The Old Radleian 2015

the

Old Radleian 2015

Front cover: Victoria Cross. The medal awarded to Oswald Reid (Old Radleian) is displayed in the South African National Museum of Military History in Johannesburg.

Back cover: Oswald Reid, VC

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Old Radleian 2015

Contents 2

Letter from the Warden

ARTICLES 4

Captain Oswald Reid, VC

18 Miles Morland – Return to India

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28

24

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24 Gypsy Hill Brewing Company 28 Tributes to Anthony Hudson 38 OR NEW BOOKS, CDs & DVDs

Hugh Aldersley (1945)

George Plumptre (1969)

Michael Bawtree (1951)

Richard Beard (1980)

Charlie Cleverly (1964)

Julian Cribb (1964)

Rupert Haigh (1984)

Guy Arnold (1977)

David Reynolds (1962)

Miles Morland (1957)

Jeremy Fraser (1954)

Rupert Baker (1967)

Kenn Back (1955)

Joscelyn Godwin (1958)

Rod Gilmour (1990)

James Lovegrove (1979)

Andrew Gant (1976)

Oliver Wilson (1988)

James Burton (1988)

44 GAZETTE 70 LETTERS 74 OBITUARIES 114 SPORT

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Cricket, Cross-Country, Golf,

Football, Beagles, Rowing, Sailing

130 NEWS & NOTES

Article Master

Letter from John Moule, the Warden

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Dear ORs,

It would be wrong not to highlight one individual who has helped more than any other in that process. As he steps down from his work as Development Director, there have been many moments to thank Anthony Robinson for all that he has done, and I simply want to repeat what I said in front of all the parents at Gaudy: I do not think I have ever met anyone who lives and breathes an institution as much as Anthony does Radley and he has taught me much . . . and it has been fun along the way. We will miss him, but I am delighted that his successor, Colin Dudgeon, is with us and I know that he has already met many ORs and is enjoying hugely – as did I – the chance to get to know more about the place.

The opening of the new Jock Mullard rowing tank has been the highlight of the first few weeks of term and it was lovely to see so many join us – on a glorious day – to see the remarkable facility. So much of the day reflected Radley at its best; former crews reliving past glories, reminiscences galore and a palpable excitement about what is an innovative and highly effective design. The tank is a collaboration of many people and it has been particularly good to see the way in which it has come together, not least through the fact that it was entirely financed by donations. As I asked Jock to open ‘his’ tank, it struck me that it could not possibly be better named, as Jock embodies the best of Radley rowing spirit and success, and he is, of course, central to the work of the Foundation and has been for many

Andrew Cunningham

It was good to be able to stand in front of this year’s Shell parents at the start of the year and suggest to them that, while I would not be saying anything substantively different from last year, I was now saying it from a perspective of knowledge rather than speculation: there is a huge difference between starting the second year and the inevitably nervous uncertainty of the unknown – tempered by excitement of course – of last September. I would like to take this opportunity to thank all sections of the Radley community for the warmth of their welcome and for the way in which they have helped me to understand the DNA of the College, going beyond routine and achievements to the core ethos of the place.

Jock Mullard at the opening of the new tank years. Being somewhat ignorant, I am still not entirely sure how it works but I am assured that it will make a difference. I gently pointed out the photograph of the 1998 Henley winning crew, and observed that there was space for another picture. . .

And so the year begins. There is something wonderful about a school’s annual cycle: there is the reassurance of the familiar but it is accompanied by change, by the freshness of the new, as boys and dons arrive and another generation become ORs. It is a powerful theme and informs a lot of what we are thinking about; as we inevitably review some elements of what we do, I am delighted both by the core strength of our systems and our approach and the willingness to think about things differently. It strikes me as an excellent balance. In the midst of educational reforms we will, of course, have to adapt, but, and I make no apologies for it being a constant theme of mine, we do not follow trends or fads; we do what we think right, always building on our strong foundation.

of K) as a new Senior Master in charge of all co-curricular matters. Ensuring a balance between all aspects of College life, dynamic and ambitious in all our programmes and always dovetailed effectively with the academic, is crucial to our success. Harry Hammond moves into a new role overseeing all our relations with the world beyond Radley, another vital element of our planning for the future.

And, as stated above, we welcome Colin Dudgeon as Anthony’s successor.

There continues to be a real buzz about the place; it is a great place to be working and a privilege to lead it as Warden. I said it last year and meant it but I know it much more now. The nervous uncertainty has gone. The excitement remains. We look forward to another successful year and to welcoming as many of you as possible to visit us.

I am delighted to have been able to restructure the senior management team, and we welcome Niall Murphy (fresh out the old radleian 2015

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Letters from the Front

CAPTAIN OSWALD AUSTIN REID, VC Radley 1910-1913

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Then after half time, Reid, who had been on the wing, came into the centre, and this with the help of the wind proved the turning-point of the match. Immediately after the game had been re-started, Reid dashed through, and on being tackled, passed to Keller, who, taking the ball at full speed, ran over for the first try which Radley has ever really earned by good play.

Oswald Austin Reid was born in Johannesburg, South Africa, on 2nd November 1893, the son of Harry Austin Reed and his wife Alice Gertrude Reid, both pioneer founders of the city.

He attended the Diocesan College in Cape Town and St John’s College in Johannesburg before coming to Britain to complete his education at Radley.

Bishop Nash, his Headmaster at St John’s, wrote:

In the Sports of 1912 Reid won the High Jump, tied the Long Jump and won Putting the Weight:

Reid was a fine athlete at School, captain of Football and Cricket. I believe his last four innings at School were centuries, and he was considered the best boy wicketkeeper in the Transvaal. He took a Second in Matric, at sixteen, and he was my Senior Prefect and a really strong and loyal head. On leaving St. John’s he was received on my special request (for he was over age) at Radley College in England.

The High Jump went to Reid (4 ft. 11 in.). He should also have won the Hurdles [which he had won in 1911], but he tripped over the last hurdle, and failed to breast the tape – a misfortune which has happened to several others. The Long Jump was a tie (18 ft. 5 ins.) between Keller ma. and Reid.

Oswald Reid came to Radley in April 1910 when he was sixteen and a half, so considerably older than most new boys.

He got into the Cricket XI his first term as a wicket-keeper.

In the 1st XI Cricket of 1912 against Keble College, Reid, the wicketkeeper and also a bowler, took 7 wickets for 31 runs.

The Radleian, July 1910:

The Radleian, July 1912:

The most promising wicket-keeper seen here for a long time, quick and unostentatious. Disappointing this season with the bat, but is bound to get lots of runs before he has done.

A most useful hard-hitting bat, who makes no attempt to sacrifice efficiency for appearances. His chief value to the team has been his bowling, which holds out distinct hopes for next year... In the field he has the safe hands of a class wicketkeeper, which indeed he is.

There was only one match against another school in 1910, the Bradfield match, won by Radley by 3 runs.

In the Michaelmas Term 1910 he played some matches for the 1st Football XI and in the Lent Term 1911 he was a forward in the 1st Rugby XV. In April 1911 the Radleian records that Oswald Reid was a member of the Debating Society and that he won the Heavyweight division of the College Boxing.

1st XI Cricket 1911 The Radleian of October 1911, on the 1st XI Football: At full back Reid is a certainty. Heavy, strong, and fast, he and Nugee will enjoy themselves thoroughly on occasions, and will break up many a formidable combination of forwards.

In 1911 he was in the 1st XI Cricket once more:

In November 1911 Oswald Reid was elected to the Literary Society and had a part in the Greek play. In March 1912 he passed Certificate A in the Officers’ Training Corps.

O. A. Reid, together with the rest of the side, has turned a weak attack into a useful one by consistently good and sometimes brilliant wicket-keeping. A very useful hard-hitting batsman with a style of his own.

Freezing weather in January 1912 delayed the start of rugger by ten days and Reid missed the 1st XV match against Christ Church after being injured in a skating accident. He returned for the match against Corpus:

He averaged 23.64 runs with the bat and took 46 wickets for 885 runs (19.24).

In Michaelmas 1912 Oswald Reid became Senior Prefect. He was also captain of Cricket and captain of Racquets and Fives. In 1913 he was captain of Rugby Football, captain of Swimming, President of the Debating Society and was a Colour-Sergeant in the OTC. The Second Prefect was E. H. Whitfeld, a fellow member of the 1st XI Football where Reid had suffered another injury: It is no good crying over spilt milk, but we must confess that we are unfortunate. For two seasons we have had to play without our captain, and now though Keller is quite sound himself, he has lost the services of Reid temporarily (for a month at least), services which we can ill spare. the old radleian 2015

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Letters from the Front

1st XI Football 1911-1912

Prefects 1912

Literary Society 1912

Debating Society 1912

1st XI Cricket 1912

1st XI Football 1912-1913

Prefects 1913 – left Oswald Reid, centre Warden Selwyn, right Ernest Whitfeld 8

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We do not wish to be pessimistic, but Reid cannot play football in the future without some risk of repeating his accident; consequently we have had to try experiments for filling his position at full-back.

O. A. Reid (full back). Since his accident in the first fortnight of term he has been unable to repeat his triumphs of last year.

1st XV Rugger, 1913: The team suffers from two handicaps.

They are very light, and there is no pace outside the scrum, Reid and Lepper excepted. The former has two weak knees, but after giving them a trial attack, and finding them still whole, he played wing

three-quarter in the first match till halftime, when he determined to test his knees at centre. The result was the only two tries of the match. If only he can stand the racket, we have hopes of putting up good games in the next two matches against Corpus and Christ Church.

1st XI Cricket 1913:

Match v Common Room:

O. A. Reid: Originally a pure hitter. He has made himself into a really consistent forcing batsman. His strength of body and forearm make it possible for him to force even good length balls to the boundary.

A most useful fast bowler and a first-rate wicket-keeper. An admirable captain, watchful, courageous, and even tempered.

The victory [by Common Room] was also no doubt partly due to a collision between the rival captains, in which Reid with the respect which he no doubt felt for his rival, knocked himself out, rather than knock out a member of Common Room, as seemed at the moment inevitable to that fortunate player.

The 1913 side had the estimable advantage of a really good captain in O. A. Reid. He was a fine hard-hitting consistent bat and scored 101 (not out) in 80 minutes against Bradfield. [He also stumped two and caught one behind the wicket, and found time to bowl a wicket]. the old radleian 2015

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Letters from the Front

... and Reid showed that in spite of his wound he could still bat with the vigour and skill that we used to expect of him two years ago.

King’s Liverpool Regiment His Headmaster in South Africa believed Oswald Reid had thoughts of taking Holy Orders but on 14th August 1914, just 10 days after Britain declared war on Germany, he was commissioned into the 4th Battalion, King’s Liverpool Regiment, as a 2nd Lieutenant.

In a letter to his father, dated 26 March 1915, and written from Flanders, he recounts his experiences in the battle of Neuve Chapelle:

Captain of Cricket 1913 His wicket-keeping was better than ever and when he bowled he was certainly the best bowler on the side. Both he and R. C. Keller had averages of 40. ... Bradfield were routed with the greatest of ease, their score of 131 being a poor reply to our total of 299 for 5. ... A special prize was presented to Reid, the Senior Prefect, to whom, the Warden remarked, much of what he had said about the good tone of the school was due.

Reid was asked to play in the Public Schools Trial match at Lord’s. He was unfortunately disabled by a fast one from Rucker, three or four balls after he had put on the gloves, but despite the necessity for a visit to the hospital, he made some big hits, sending one ball on to the stands, and was eventually 10

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chosen as first change bowler for the Public Schools XI. During the 1913 season Oswald Reid averaged 43.55 runs and he took 21 wickets for 294 runs (14).

Oswald Reid was a member of the Public Schools XI in their Match against the M.C.C., August, 1913.

After leaving Radley, he went for nearly a year to Holland to learn Dutch and Dutch law with a view to future work in the Transvaal.

Reid played cricket for the Old Radleians in the Summers of 1913 and 1914 and he played for E. F. Simpkinson’s XI in 1915 while on leave to recover from wounds:

I am still safe and sound. We arrived in the firing line just in time to take part in the battle of Neuve Chapelle, which I dare say you have read about. It was simply terrific, and was a most severe baptism of fire. We are fighting in co-operation with all the Indians. We have just come back from the trenches for a bit of rest ... The British successes cost us very dear. Over a hundred officers were killed or wounded at Neuve Chapelle. Our regiment got off comparatively lightly but my two best friends were both bowled over. One was killed by a shell which struck a house in which several of us were sheltering. It left the rest of us absolutely unharmed but tore him about most dreadfully. The shell fire out here is terrific at times. When we went up into action the British were bombarding with 137 big guns and the Germans were by no means slow to reply either. The Germans have exceptionally good snipers located all over the place, and one is always liable to get picked off unexpectedly.

Reid was wounded in the head in the 2nd Battle of Ypres in April 1915. He describes the circumstances in a letter to the Headmaster of St John’s College dated 10 May 1915, written from London: ... My wound is only a slight one in the head, and in another month I shall be quite healed ... It was in the recent fighting at Ypres. Our regiment has been remarkably busy since we got out here. We took part in the battle of Neuve Chapelle and again at Ypres. We have only been out a little over two months and yet we have only seven officers and about 300 men left of our original 30 officers and 1000 men. I have

St John’s College

had some narrow escapes. If the bullet that wounded me had struck me ever so little lower I would have been killed outright.

Time and again shells have burst within a few yards of me, and left me untouched. I have even had my glasses whisked out of my hand by shrapnel without being touched myself. We had to march to Ypres in a tremendous hurry. One day we marched 12 hours on end. The men are wonderful in these marches. It must be remembered that they carry an enormous weight on their packs. The war here is simply colossal. The Germans are up to every vile trick. They were making great use of that poisonous gas at Ypres. It is much more painful than a wound and the men who get gassed are ghastly to see. Their shells have also got some poisonous gases in them. They nearly blind you if they burst nearby. What has struck me most has been the marvellous imperturbability and cheerfulness of the British soldier. They face death as if it was a common occurrence. One cannot help keeping cool oneself when all the men behave like that. One soon becomes quite callous at the front and can easily bear to see a shell kill several men, and sometimes a best friend, without any undue emotion.

The loss of life is quite terrible. Neuve Chapelle and the roads leading to it were a simple shambles ...

I have been promoted to 1st Lieutenant.

He returned to France in September 1915, as a member of the First Battalion and in December 1915 was promoted to Captain.

A letter dated 15 February 1916: ... You will be pleased to hear that I have now become Captain and I feel quite proud to think that I am serving as a Captain in the first battalion of the finest and oldest of the British Regiments. Spring is stirring both armies to activity just now, and we all expect to have to go through the awful inferno of attacking or being attacked before long. It is fortunate that one’s intellect seems to become temporarily dulled on these occasions, otherwise it would be too terrifying for anything. It’s just a regular tornado for every kind of death-dealing missile imaginable. The old methods of warfare must seem quite fairly peaceful – bullets, bayonets and some shells. But now-a-days there are also trench mortars, machine guns in plenty, rifle grenades, mines, gas, bombs and even liquid fire.

Liquid fire isn’t very common, but the others are often met with. So you can see

Oswald Reid at St John’s College, Johannesburg, probably in 1917 the old radleian 2015

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Letters from the Front

that that short hundred yards or so of ground between two trenches hold a ten to one chance of a wound in crossing them ...

The general opinion out here is that we really have got the upper hand of the Germans and we all hope to settle the matter this summer.

The letter above was written before he was wounded again, this time in the face, during the 1st Battle of Arras in April 1915. Between April and July 1915 Reid was recovering from his wound.

Captain Reid did not serve in the campaign which hoped to settle the matter this summer, the ill fated and futile battle of the Somme, which spanned the period from 1st July 1916 to 18th November 1916. For, while the Somme battles were being waged, he was serving on the North West Frontier of India with 2 Battalion, King’s Liverpool Regiment, taking part in the fighting against the hill tribes.

Reid’s service in India lasted four months and in December 1916 he had arrived in Mesopotamia, attached to 6 Battalion, Loyal North Lancashire Regiment, with the rank of Captain.

A letter to his father dated 4 December 1916: I have arrived out here safely and am attached to the above regiment [6 Bn, Loyal North Lancashire.] I have a double company to command and am first on the list for second in command of the battalion.

This is a new young battalion. The country is all as flat as a pancake, absolutely devoid of trees; in fact it’s nothing but a dry desert, and one gets awfully tired of looking at nothing at all. When I joined the battalion they were down the line refitting, now we are on our way up again with all sorts of rumours of desperate deeds to be done.

Personally I think they are only rumours.

In any case the Turk seems to be much more of a sportsman than the German...

Own, were shot down in waves as they tried to ferry pontoons across the stream.

Eventually around 100 men and four officers from the 6th Loyals, led

by Oswald Reid, established a tiny bridgehead. But fierce Turkish opposition prevented reinforcement and there began an epic of endurance under fire which bears favourable comparison even with the much more well-known Rorke’s Drift battle.

Instead of the Zulu warriors with spears and cow-hide shields which the Lancastrians had faced in the Boer War, now they had to withstand a modern army with 20th Century fire-power. For over 30 hours the little band, at least well positioned for defence in a deep bend in the river bank, fought off attack after attack, often at the point of the bayonet.

Their few bombs were expended during the first night, but with great skill and courage they hurled back the ones thrown into their redoubt by the Turks.

Each man started the action with 220 rounds of ammunition, but it quickly became clear that unless great caution was used they would be left only with their bayonets.

Finally, on the third night of the siege, the East Lancashires at last succeeded in getting across the Diyala River behind them.

When relieved the little force was down to four officers and about 30 men, many of them wounded, out of bombs and down to the last of the ammunition.

Their senior officer, Oswald Reid, received the Victoria Cross. Of the other survivors, three were awarded the Military Cross, two the Distinguished Conduct Medal and 11 the Military Medal.

From Machine Gunner 1914-1918

by C. E. Crutchley:

Award of the Victoria Cross

The Battle of the Diyalah River

In March 1917 the British were approaching Baghdad. Selected to force a crossing of the Diyalah River, the Turks last main line of defence just eight miles from the city, men from the 6th Battalions of the East, South and Loyal North Lancashire Regiments, together with fellow Lancastrians from the 6th Kings

The battle began on the night of March 7th, 1917. Men of the Lancaster Regiment (The King’s Own) were detailed to make the first attempt to cross the Diyalah, but even before the No. 1 pontoon could be launched, enemy machine-guns and artillery fired across the 50 yard wide river and wiped out the

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Royal Engineers assembling the pontoon.

A second pontoon was launched and got half-way across when its occupants were all killed or wounded. A third, fourth, and fifth attempt to cross the river met with the same fate. Enemy machine-guns on the opposite bank dominated the battle zone. Daylight made further attempts impossible. I saw the pontoons with their dead and wounded floating down the River Tigris.

Next night (March 8th) the battle continued. After an intense bombardment of the Turkish positions, men of the Loyal North Lancashire Regiment succeeded in crossing the Diyalah and gained a footing on the other side: but the supporting troops were not so lucky. Their boats and pontoons were blown to bits in midstream, leaving about 100 Lancashire soldiers isolated on the north side of the river. Throughout the night, the stranded men fought off attack after attack by a much stronger Turkish force. It was not until daylight on the 10th March that a rescue was effected. When we reached them, there were only about 30 exhausted survivors. The many dead lying round the parapets of the river-bound defences told their own grim tale.

• His bravery in defending the isolated bridgehead bought vital time for reinforcements to arrive and cross the river. This enabled General Sir Stanley Maude to outflank the Turkish forces, which then retreated. This retreat facilitated the unopposed British entry into Baghdad on 11 March 1917.

The Star, dated Monday 23 July 1917 reported: There was no mistaking the warmth of the greeting extended yesterday to Johannesburg’s first winner of the Victoria Cross, Captain O. A. Reid, King’s Liverpool Regiment. [He had returned to Johannesburg on leave].

“It’s all a matter of luck” ... Mr. Steer said how proud Johannesburg was of the honour which bad been conferred on Captain Reid, who was the first Johannesburger to win the distinction in this war.

Thank you all very much. It’s all a matter of luck, was Captain Reid’s soldierly and brief reply to the welcome and the acknowledgement of the cheers which marked the public approval of the Deputy Mayor’s congratulations ...

Captain Reid left Johannesburg to rejoin his Regiment on Monday 13 August 1917 (He had been appointed Acting Major on 10 May 1917). In the London Gazette dated 31 August 1917 it was announced that he had been awarded the Italian Silver Medal for Military Valour.

In October 1917 Oswald Reid suffered from a displaced cartilage in his left knee, possibly a reoccurrence of the knee trouble he had experienced at Radley.

In December 1917 he was mentioned in despatches for his part in the capture of Baghdad. He returned to South Africa to recover from his injuries.

Carried up and down Covered Passage The Radleian April 1919: Captain O. A. Reid, V.C., paid us a visit in the early part of the term and was honoured by the traditional but dusty ceremony of being carried up and down Covered Passage. We are extremely grateful for the half-holiday which we enjoyed at his request.

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Letters from the Front

Oswald Reid’s citation from the London Gazette dated 8 June 1917: Captain Oswald Austin Reid, King’s Liverpool Regiment, attached Loyal North Lancashire Regiment.

For most conspicuous bravery in the face of desperate circumstances.

By his dauntless courage and gallant leadership he was able to consolidate a small post with the advanced troops, on the opposite side of a river to the main body, after his lines of communication had been cut by the sinking of pontoons.

He maintained his position for 30 hours against constant attacks by bombs, machine gun and shell fire, with the full knowledge that repeated attempts at relief had failed, and that his ammunition was all but exhausted.

It was greatly due to his tenacity that the passage of the river was effected on the following night.

During the operations he was wounded.

After the Armistice he went to Russia as part of the Allied Expeditionary Force, serving with the Slavo-British Legion, supporting the White Russians in their struggles against the ruling Bolsheviks.

He was demobilized on 6 February 1920, after which he returned to Johannesburg.

On 1 April 1920 he resigned his commission in the British Army, and obtained a commission in the Transvaal Scottish Regiment as a Captain.

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After his return to Johannesburg military affairs continued to play a major role in his activities. Not only did he serve in the Transvaal Scottish but he was the first Secretary of the Johannesburg branch of the Comrades of the Great War League (subsequently the British Empire Service League and now the South African Legion).

He also entered the political sphere, unsuccessfully contesting the Troyevllle constituency in March 1920.

Captain Reid died, only a few weeks short of his 27th birthday, on 27 October 1920, from gastro-enteritis, his health having been seriously undermined for several years by multiple war wounds. It was a supremely tragic irony that, having survived the most desperate fighting on the Western Front and in Mesopotamia, he should succumb to a comparatively minor sickness.

Iain MacFarlaine

The Radleian December 1920: He went back to Johannesburg early in the year, and became Secretary of the Comrades Club, and was very keen to do his work well. He was trying to find work for numbers of returned soldiers, and had to go carefully into their cases.

He was often kept late at his work, which must have been a wearying business.

A correspondent wrote: that he had been feeling unwell on Monday, 25th October, but persisted in going down to his office, but [two days later] ... in getting there he collapsed, and was taken in an ambulance to hospital and died, ten minutes after admission...

Captain Reid is buried in Braamfontein Cemetery, Johannesburg. The funeral took place on Sunday 31 October 1920, and the following report of the event appeared in The Star dated 1 November 1920: The spirit of his old school [St. John’s College] breathed over the closing episode of the earthly career of Captain Oswald Austin Reid, VC yesterday – the committal of his body to a quiet corner of Braamfontein Cemetery...

St. Mary’s [Cathedral] was crowded.

Crowds lined the streets along which the procession passed to Braamfontein, and the Cemetery was thronged … the procession … was unmistakably military in its demeanour.

Father Hill summed up the dead VC’s career ... and after describing how he won his outstanding honour, stated: ‘It was what we expected of him. His powers of leadership were the powers that come from a man who leads and does not order others to do what he is afraid to do himself ’. ... The simplest, and from its very simplicity perhaps the most striking, of the many wreaths yesterday was that laid upon the coffin by the Senior Prefect of St. John’s College. It consisted of oak leaves tied with the school colours, and it was made by the boys themselves from the trees of the estate.

Oswald Reid’s grave at Braamfontein the old radleian 2015

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Letters from the Front

Postscript One evening early in 1967 two very old Oxford friends were chatting in the United University Club in London.

One of them chanced to say that he was engaged on the history of St. John’s College in Johannesburg,. The other then asked: Do you know anything of an Old Boy called O. A. Reid? I was with him at Radley – he was a friend of mine.

As a result of this fortunate remark, Mr. Eric Gillett was asked to put on paper his recollections of Oswald. He consented; and every Johnannian must be interested to read the following account of one of our most distinguished Old Boys, written by a contemporary who knew nothing of St. John’s, or of Oswald Reid’s background: Oswald, or as a great many people called him, ‘Kaffir’ Reid, came to Radley in the summer term of 1910. He was about seventeen though he seemed to me and to his other contemporaries to be a man of twenty-one at least.

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Large, loose-jointed, casual and deceptively slow in his movements, he was at first rather an enigma to the rest of us. In those days, the Warden of Radley, the Revd. Thomas Field (whose portrait will be found as the Headmaster in Maugham’s Of Human Bondage), was not a communicative man. I cannot remember that he made any public comment on the arrival of this most unusual seventeen-year-old. Oswald’s Social Tutor (Housemaster), E. Bryans, a sarcastic disciplinarian, who was also a first-rate master of the Army Class, and the most vigilant of all the Tutors, was enchanted to find himself presented with a superb athlete, with a good brain and a quite unexpected sense of humour.

When I became Editor of the Radleian I was surprised when Oswald suggested we might collaborate in a skit on a conceited school athlete, inclined to bully small boys.

This is a part of what Oswald wrote in what we entitled A Cricketer’s Diary: When we took the field I was naturally well to the fore. The spectators like to see

the way in which I toss the ball with graceful abandon to my clubmates, and catch the returns with masterly ease.

On these occasions everything centres round me, and the team look to me to supply the general air of confidence and sangfroid which they themselves lack in such a marked degree. In the field, as usual, my fielding redeemed the home side’s somewhat scrappy display. Smart pick-ups and lightning returns are the feature of my play; in fact, so smart am I, that on several occasions the ball has passed the wicket before the wicket-keeper has caught sight of it!

It was harmless enough, and goodnatured but we were both piqued because the thick-skinned target of our joke never realised that it was aimed at him. However, Oswald was delighted when he pointed it out to him, and the victim only remarked that some cricketers were like that. Then Oswald laughed more than ever, insisting that nowhere else in the world could such monumental self-esteem be found.

Oswald wrote for the Radleian numerous pieces of light verse but this was after I had gone and he had become Senior Prefect and I heard that he was, as might have been expected, a very good one, though perhaps more tolerant than most people (but certainly not I) had expected. He was essentially a very charitable person. I think he would have disliked being called truly religious, but that is exactly what he was.

He was the very last boy (and later man) to make a parade of anything he felt or did.

However, those who lived with him found it impossible to disregard him and what he did. I always sensed that he had it in him to do great things. I felt no surprise at all when the news of his VC was published.

I was in my first year at Oxford when he and I met for the last time. It was at Radley, on All Saints’ Day, 1919. This was the Old Radleian celebration, and of course he had a great reception. After the dinner and the speeches he had asked me to meet him in the Prefects’ study, and when he came in looking much as he had done seven years earlier when we had last met, no one else was there.

We shan’t meet again I suggested he might lunch with me in Oxford next day. He hesitated before he said that this could not be arranged. As I turned to the taxi awaiting me a few yards away, he said, quite calmly, We shan’t meet again, I said, Nonsense, but he repeated his words with conviction.

He was right. Less than a year later he died in Johannesburg after a short illness, and with him went the potentials of a great, delightful, and most unselfish man.

I am very proud to have been one of his friends.”

In his covering letter, Mr. Gillett wrote: It’s very odd to think that he was the sort of person who, if he had lived, might have changed the course of South African history.

• Oswald Reid’s medals and presentation sword are displayed in the South African National Museum of Military History in Johannesburg.

I do not think he would mind if I write down now some of the things he said.

I had known, years earlier, that he had fallen in love with the sister of one of our friends. She was a girl I never knew or saw. He had given his love and it had been refused. Never had I seen him so hurt before. It may be hopelessly old-fashioned if I say now that he seemed to have been stricken. For the moment, life had no purpose for him.

Oswald Reid’s brother, Victor, joined the Royal Flying Corps in 1917. He represented Oswald at the VC Centenary in London in 1956.

Having told me this, his mood changed and he became his normal, cheerful self.

I’ve something to show you, he said with a grin: and taking me by the arm, led me across Prefects’ Court to the School Shop.

Asking me to wait for a minute, he dived into a plantation just behind Shop, and came out with a small leather case. It was pitch dark all round us, except for one gaslight. In its gleam, and with his habitual shy grin, he put his VC into my hand. In the present day and age, no doubt this will seem a very sentimental gesture. It was, in fact, nothing of the kind. What struck me at the time as very odd indeed, was that he had chosen to hide his decoration for some hours in a hollow tree-trunk because he felt no doubt that he might be regarded as a ‘show-off ’ if someone bad asked him what the bulge in his pocket was.

A selection of British Military Swords of the 18th, 19th and 20th Centuries compiled by S. Monick & D. R. A. Heming

Sources: Venture of faith: The story of St. John’s College, Johannesburg, 1898-1968

by K. C. Lawson The National Archives

Johannesburg’s Tribute to Valour

by S. Monick (The letters of Oswald Reid were originally published in a publication entitled St John’s College and the War) Radleian Magazines 1910-1920 The Star (Johannesburg) History of the Great War: The Campaign in Mesopotamia 1914-1918 The assistance of Sandra Lou and Angie Delport of St John’s College, Johannesburg and the help of Martin Kennard (1959) in Johannesburg has been invaluable.

On Sunday 4 August 1918, as part of the special celebrations commemorating the fourth anniversary of Britain’s declaration of war, Oswald Reid’s father received a sword from the citizens of Johannesburg on behalf of Oswald who was on active service in Mesopotamia. the old radleian 2015

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Letters from the Front

ernest hamilton whitfeld Radley 1907-1913

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Ernest Whitfeld was Second Prefect at Radley in 1913 when Oswald Reid was Senior Prefect. They had played in several Radley teams together and been members of many of the same Societies.

May 1915 Second Lieutenant (temporary Lieutenant) Ernest Hamilton Whitfeld, 2nd Battalion the Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry.

Citation for the Military Cross For conspicuous gallantry on May 16, 1915, at Richebourg L’Avoué, when, with a small party, he entered the German trenches, and, after being wounded, attacked a detachment still working a machine gun, killing seven men, taking three prisoners and capturing the gun.

Private S. Rackstraw, of the 2nd Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry, wrote to his mother in High Wycombe: At midnight on Saturday, the 15th, we had orders to reinforce the — Regiment, as they had attacked the Germans and taken the trenches, but lost heavily and required more men; so our Regiment went up. As we got to the trench the officer said “Over the top,” so over we went with a good heart straight at them. Many of our men got hit, but some of us were lucky and got over safe, but how I don’t know, for shot and shell were flying all round us. Hundreds we had to leave behind dead and wounded. Many of our officers were hit. My platoon officer (who is the Vicar of Hughenden’s son) said “Come on, boys,” and we went straight at them.

One came for our officer, but when he was within two yards he fetched him down, and continued along the trench fetching them down. At last he got hit, but still he carried on. The Commanding Officer said to him “You must go and get it dressed,” but he carried on till he got hit again; and even then he would not go back until he was satisfied that we had done our bit.

Literary Society 1913: Ernest Whitfeld (left) and Oswald Reid (right) Then he went back with a good heart, and there is no doubt he will get mentioned for it. We held the trenches for about 24 hours; and then the — Regiment relieved us, and we went back in support for another 12 hours. The shells from the Germans were absolutely murderous, and dozens of our chaps got hit. They kept on saying, “This is like hell let loose,” and it was, and worse. If we get into another fight like that God help us. The people at home cannot realise what it is. The dead and wounded lay around us in hundreds. We got relieved at 1.30 on the 18th, and now we are back for a rest we have well earned.

Ernest Whitfled was twice Mentioned in Despatches. His MC was one of the first to be awarded (the award was created in December 1914). He continued to serve in the Army and, in the Second World War, he commanded the 43rd Battalion of the Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry at Dunkirk where he was wounded and taken prisoner.

Ernest Whitfeld’s two sons, David (1950) and Michael (1952) and his grandsons Nick (1981) and Mark (1984) were at Radley – and there is at least one greatgrandson registered for Radley. the old radleian 2015

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Extreme Bike Tours

return to india

miles morland Radley 1957-1962

Zander Combe and Miles Morland

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From a draft of his new book Cobra in the Bath: I have been back to India many times since the Morland family left it in 1949.

And every time as I leave the airport and smell the smell of India, something deep within me tingles and says ‘This is my birth land’. A few years ago I was idly surfing the internet when I saw something that made my pulse gallop, something that would allow me to combine India with motorbiking: Extreme Bike Tours.

A man called Zander Combe took small groups of bikers round India on Enfield Bullets. You could go either to the Himalayas where, Zander’s website noted, he was hoping to get in the Guinness Book of Records for cooking the world’s highest prawn masala although what it would smell like after being carried to a Himalayan peak in an unrefrigerated ancient motorbike I did not like to think, or you could do the South India Tour, starting in Cochin and finishing in Goa. For me, India is about its people. There would be few people in the Himalayas and many in South India. It was an easy choice. I signed up. If I had known then what I know now I would have stayed home. Well, perhaps. Driving in the wake of Zander through the towns, hills and jungles of South India is the nearest thing I know to assisted suicide.

A bare six weeks after finding Zander, my diary cleared of grown-up London appointments, a Cochin taxi dropped Robert and me off at a tiny hotel in a back street. Robert had been a friend since Oxford. He had made more of a success of his marriage than I but occasionally, at moments of stress, he likes to go a-biking.

I am spoilt and used to staying in five-star hotels. On this trip we would be staying in two-star Indian hotels. I had looked some up on Trip Advisor. The features the hotels we were booked in had in common were an abundance of sewage, little of it going down the right hole, and cockroaches the size of rats.

Here’s what Trip Advisor reviewers had to say about the Royal Retreat in Munnar, a tea town up in the Western Ghat hills where we would spend our first night on the road.

Reviewer Mr Ankur Tewari: ‘The biggest problem which I faced in the hotel was of fooding. The food quality is very poor. Most of the time the service is not available. Even the menu items are also not available. So if you want to stay make sure you eat out.’

And Coimbatore Sam had this to say: ‘It was an awful trip in my life ever ...

Which was run by totally unprofessional people ... I started facing problem since I checked in. It’s absolutely an worst trip and I never suggest this hotel and absolutely not for honeymoon couples.

Please stay away ...’

Who cared about fooding, Robert and I agreed, and thank God we were not a honeymoon couple.

Outside our Cochin hotel were seven shiny Enfield Bullets, a 1956 English bike still made in India. Its slogan was ‘Built like a Gun, Goes like a Bullet’, presumably because it exploded frequently. I was told we had ‘full Indian insurance’. ‘What does that cover?’

I asked. ‘Oh, $150 of damage to the bike.’ ‘And what about if I run someone over?’ ‘Ah, that’s a cash transaction,’ said Zander. He added that if you ran someone over in a village, don’t stop because if you did the village people would beat you to death. And if there was an accident it was important to settle the matter in cash before the police turned up as bribing the police was far more expensive than buying off the person you had just hit.

Cochin was lovely, all fishing nets, crumbling churches, and Dutch forts but we had business to do and little time for sightseeing. We were introduced to the other ‘extreme bikers’ and given lessons on how to drive our Enfield Bullets.

We were seven bikers. I was curious as to what our companions would be like.

Ravers? Biker babes? Karma-seekers?

Ganja-istas? No. We had Bill, Ian, and Charles, three lads from Newcastle, who had, I suspect, spent many a Friday night out-talking Yorkshiremen in the pub, and two from Derby, Terry and Dave, both ex-enlisted men in the army. Terry was a fruit and veg man while Dave drove the high-speed train to London. They were almost as old as Robert and I. Our leader and the founder of Extreme Bike Tours was Zander Combe, a fortyish Englishman with a ponytail. I took an instant liking to him when I learned he had been expelled from Radley for doing things with women. He had been based for the last sixteen years in Anjuna beach, Goa’s Hippy Valley, the place that made the world safe for ganja in the 1960s and our final destination on this trip. Team mechanic was Vijay, a gentle, smiling Goan and the only person who understood our ancient bikes.

We were taught how to ride them. Unlike a normal bike the Bullet’s gear pedal was on the right where you normally found the brake, and to change gear you had to click the gear-pedal down, not up. And there was a false neutral between each gear. the old radleian 2015

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Extreme Bike Tours

This meant one of seven things: 1. Please overtake, the road is clear.

2. A cement truck is hurtling towards us; you will be killed if you pull out.

3. I am about to turn right.

4. I am about to turn left.

5. I’m hot and bored and feel like flapping a limp-wristed arm out of the window.

6. Look, children, there’s Auntie’s house.

7. I have just picked my nose.

Now that I knew this driving was much safer.

The result was that when you wanted to do an emergency stop because of a fast-looming holy cow, you followed your instincts and stamped on the gear lever, which is where years of biking had told you the brake was, which promptly changed you up from third to a false neutral between third and fourth, while the bike sailed on at undiminished speed.

‘The bikes are like women,’ Zander had told us, ‘treat them gently but with firmness and they’ll do anything you want.’ Zander was unmarried.

Starting required pushing the kickstart gently down while pressing the decompression lever at which the ammeter dial went to the left a bit; then you pushed the kick-start down a bit further and the dial centred, at which brief but critical moment you let the kickstart come up and then quickly, gently but firmly, kicked the starter down. After doing this ten times the bike was silent and the heat inside your helmet and your reinforced ventilation-proof biker jacket had built to Chernobyl levels. Vijay would then shimmy up, give the starter a nonchalant prod with his left foot and the bike would roar into action. What a noise.

The Bullet had none of the vulgar gargle of a Harley or the scream of a Ducati, it was the deep-throated ta pocketa pocketa of a civilised English engine which had spent a life in the tropic Indian sun.

We went on a fifteen-kilometre ride through Cochin traffic to get used to the bikes. ‘Only one thing is vital,’ said 22

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Zander, ‘the horn.’ We were to sound it at all times. And if the horn broke we were to stop immediately and await Vijay as we would be invisible without a horn on an Indian road.

The ride was a qualified success. We stalled frequently and found ourselves stationary in the middle of a scramble of traffic, all using their horns at us, while we gently but firmly depressed the kick start while trying to watch the ammeter dial as the sweat cascaded in rivulets down the inside of our helmet visors. After a bit the bike did begin to exhibit its Katherine Hepburn qualities and glided along throatily ta-pocketing while I changed from third to fourth with no neutral in between, the coconut palms flashed by and the fragrance of Cochin’s sewer-canals was left behind.

I was glad to get back to our hotel, a teetotal establishment, have a long shower, put on my new Cochin linen pants, and saunter off with Zander and Vijay from our humble B&B to the Brunton Boatyard, a five star hotel, where we sat on the terrace by the sea, watched the fishing boats set out on the evening tide and rehydrated with a number of the most delicious mojitos I had ever tasted.

We then set off. After a day on the road from Cochin to Munnar I had learned Indian hand signals. Well, hand signal.

There was only one. A brown hand would come out of the driver’s window and flap lazily in a Wildean manner.

Misty Munnar with its lakes, tea plantations, and forests with canopies two hundred feet high was left behind and we swooped down to Madurai in the hot and dusty plains. The road down from Munnar was a biker’s dream, curve after tightening curve gliding through the mist-shrouded mountains but the road was narrow and an Indian bus filled it from edge to edge.

Dodging the bus was tricky and required a detour into the dirt while avoiding the ditch. B.A. Bill, ex 747 pilot, didn’t. The bus forced him into the ditch, his bike whip-tailed, and poor B.A. Bill was flat on his face in the road.

Half an hour later Bill and bike were repaired by Vijay’s wizardry and we sailed on till Charles, one of the Newcastle lads, caught a patch of sand on a hairpin and he was off. Little serious damage and on we went.

We hit the plains and accelerated, now doing 80kph (Indian kph are like dog years – multiply by two for normal equivalent), an unheard of speed. Robert, was EasyRidering along just ahead of me – the gum trees were whistling by, buffaloes tossed their heads, tuk-tuks stood clear as seven mighty Enfields bulleted along – when he hit a reverse-cambered patch on a high speed bend, the bike fishtailed violently and I watched in slow-motion horror as the bike skidded on to its side and went down on top of Robert and came to rest in the ditch. I skidded to a halt and rushed back. Robert was motionless under the bike. I sat him up gently and he croaked unconvincingly, ‘I’m OK.’ Before he could say anything else platoons of Tamils appeared from the undergrowth and started fighting over which bit of Robert they would administer first aid to.

Legs and arms were seized and worked up

and down; Robert’s head was rotated and wobbled. I fought them off and we found that Robert was bruised but functioning apart from possible cracked ribs. Zander gave him powerful ‘muscle relaxants’ from the First Aid bag and promised Goan medicinal ‘herbs’ if that didn’t work.

Robert’s bike was hammered back into rideable shape by Vijay and we cruised on with Vijay on the bike and poor, sore, Robert in the support van.

Not only are Indian distances and speeds like dog years, equivalent to at least double their value in the normal world, Zander had started to lie about them. When we finally reached the end of the boulder-strewn watercourse that passed for the Mudumalai Jungle Reserve drive, after eleven draining Indian-road hours, we had covered 310 kilometres of mountain hairpins (thirty-six, winding down a precipice between Ootacamund, the famous ‘Snooty Ooty’ British hill station, and here), mentally disturbed traffic, roads closed by land-slides, and random attacks by homicidal buses.

Zander had promised us a journey of 200kms. ‘O, was it really 300 clicks?’ said Zander, and I could swear he was adopting the Indian head nod, ‘I had no idea it was so far...’

Talking of head nods, having mastered Indian traffic indications (the Hand Flap) I was now studying Indian personal intercourse. We had crossed from Kerala into Tamil Nadu, the heart of South India, home to the Tamils, most bloody-minded people on earth after the Northern Irish (remember the Tamil Tigers in Sri Lanka), where the signs were written in indecipherable squirlybits script and the locals refused to speak not only English but also Hindi so that they did not have to lower themselves by communicating with outsiders.

Consequently communication with lesser races (English, other Indians, Martians) was done by means of the Tamil Head Nod. Indians are of course famous for nodding their heads like metronomes but in Tamil Nadu it was the sole means of communication. If you asked them a question the head started to oscillate sideways from left to right picking up speed until it was almost a blur. The

Tamil Nod, often accompanied by a patronising smile as if to say what a stupid question, meant ‘No, but it’s more fun if you think I’m saying Yes.’ Such as, 1. Thank you for ordering a sweet lime soda. It will be here immediately despite the fact we have no soda and the last lime was used in the curry.

2. Of course there are no knives and forks, what are your fingers for?

3. All our ice is made from purified water.

4. The hot water comes on at 6 pm.

5. The road to Ooty is straight ahead.

(Zander had warned us that asking the way was fruitless as the answer was always a vigorous slicing gesture with the forearm pointing straight ahead.)

Because from time to time we did need to communicate with Tamils Zander had captured one, Shirath, and hired him to drive the support van which acted as sweeper picking up fallen riders and bikes. Being a Tamil he refused to admit to speaking English but luckily Vijay had discovered a common tongue with him although most of their conversation was done by head-nodding vigorous enough to power a wind farm. Shirath’s main purpose was, in the event of an accident, to leap out of the car, negotiate a cash payoff with the flattened Tamil and then drive off at speed before a policeman arrived and the villagers beat us to death.

For the last two days, Robert had been in the van with Shirath, while Vijay, clad in flip-flops and flappy shirt hurtled along on Robert’s bike. When we had arrived in

Madurai, Robert, following his high speed crash on the way down from Munnar, was gasping with pain whenever he raised his right arm. He and I, escorted by Shirath, had gone off at 7 pm to the Madurai hospital. Madurai had hospitals where normal cities had bars. Its stupendous temple made it a place of pilgrimage and what more natural than after a trip to the temple but that you should have your spine fixed at Dr Ram’s Spinal Intervention Clinic, or your boobs boobed at the Sunny Days Cosmetic Surgery Centre.

We however headed for the Apollo. This was one of a chain of private Apollo hospitals throughout India. A Central Casting doctor in spotless whites sat Robert on a bed, pushed and pulled his arms, listened gravely to the stethoscope, asked four or five questions, said, ‘Probably a rib fracture.’ Twenty minutes later, after an X-ray, a consultation with an even more senior doctor in spotless whites, Robert was sent on his way with some strapping and the knowledge that over time his rib would mend. Riding a motorbike would delay that process by weeks. All this cost the equivalent of £11 including the X-ray. Robert took the powerful pain-killers they gave him and ignored the advice about not riding a motorbike.

The Mudumalai Jungle Reserve was splendid. After five days staying in hotels where the fooding had been vegetable curry on a banana leaf, the drinking a disaster (‘Sir,’ head nodding so fast it appeared ready to separate from the the old radleian 2015

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Extreme Bike Tours

shoulders, ‘not having bar.’) and the loopaper a myth, it was wonderful to be in a place equipped with these luxuries.

Better yet, before dinner a smiling man shimmied out of the jungle and positioned himself behind the bar with a cocktail shaker in his hand, the first man for five days who did not say ‘Bless you’ when you said ‘Mojito’.

The biking had everything. At its best, as you slalomed through sweeping bends under a canopy of mangoes, gum trees and acacias, seven bikes in full song making the noise a Harley would make if it had had a proper education, you could not imagine anything finer.

At its worst, fighting to follow Zander and the five bikes ahead of you, stay upright and not to stall in the maelstrom of Madurai traffic while tuk-tuks closed in on you like Messerschmitts from either side as you attempted to overtake a bus painted as the Juggernaut while another bus proclaiming itself to be under the command of Lord Ram came thundering toward you, you just said thank you as your Bullet somehow found a hole between you and the converging bus-flanks and popped out in time to see Zander heading off in the opposite direction.

And then there were the adrenalin moments as on the six thousand foot climb from the plains up to Ooty. It seemed that every bus and petrol lorry in the subcontinent had chosen to make the climb at the same time. You had the choice of going up at 5 kph choking on 24

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the exhaust of a petrol lorry or overtaking the bus that was overtaking the petrol lorry as you came into a blind bend (there were few sighted bends on the road to Ooty), with a ditch on one side and a 1,000-foot drop on the other, and a keen awareness that if a petrol lorry was coming downhill only the Lord Vishnu could save you. Zander, as lead bike, normally waited till just before the blind bend before throwing his bike on to the wrong side of the road and accelerating fearlessly into the unseen. If you were riding third or fourth you followed heart a-thump as by that time the open and visible space ahead had shrunk to nothing. I felt every chamber of my heart fibrillating away from adrenalin overdose every time we overtook.

Before lunch in the reserve I went on a walk round with Robin, the German Parsee camp botanist, who told me how, two weeks earlier, he and another camp worker had had to pull a cobra out of a hole in the wall leading into No 4 bungalow (mine). Eight new check-ins had stood around holding their luggage while Robin attempted to get the snake, which had followed a frog into a hole and got stuck, out. Eventually they tugged hard and Robin’s mate was left holding on outstretched arm a furious cobra by the tail while it attempted to climb up its own body to give it a platform for a strike.

Every few seconds the holder gave it a flick to straighten it out. Robin meanwhile was holding a sack open, terrified the cobra would bite his hand as it is dropped in.

The new arrivals stood round catatonic with horror. Finally the snake was bagged up and next day released into a distant part of the garden.

I carefully checked the hole leading into my bathroom for wiggly things. ‘Please, not to worry,’ said Robin. ‘Cobra gone.’

‘Phew. Thank heavens. Any other livestock in my room?’ ‘Nein, nein. Vell, just in der roof.’ ‘Yes?’ ‘Only a flying snake.

They flatten ze body and can glide 100 metres on a good wind. But only mildly venomous.’

For anyone like me who came of age in the 60s, all journeys end in Goa. After ten days on the road I sat at midnight giggling like a nine year old

Zander Combe with Jeremy Clarkson – Zander was the ‘fixer’ for a Top Gear special

under a beach palm having had one mojito too many and one puff too far of whatever it was that the rickshaw driver had sold us in Mysore.

After ten days of sweat, terror, adrenalin, excitement, exhilaration, pain (like most of us, I had a ‘Goa tattoo’ of red weals on the back of both calves from being barbecued by a smoking Enfield exhaust pipe) and sheer hard work (eleven continuous hours from Mysore to Udipi left you drained), we were now on Agonda Beach. Ten palm-thatched huts with thick, soft mattresses and lilies on the bed (what joy after ten nights of hard boards and concrete platforms), a friendly bar crammed with substances forbidden in Tamil Nadu and Kerala, rum, whisky, vodka, even a case of Sula Indian sauvignon blanc, a kitchen turning out spice-marinated grilled fish, crab masala, fragrant coconutty curries, and, fifty feet from the huts, a mile of powdery white sand dotted with slender outriggered fishing boats.

We were at the White Sands in south Goa. We had survived everything Zander had thrown at us and now, just one more mojito as a molten sun faded into an Indian Ocean whose surf broke on the white sand.

Agonda Beach was the world as we liked to think it had been in the 60s but was it ever this good? Life here was at its simplest and best. It was £20 a day for the White Sands and another six for the best seafood dinner you had ever eaten.

I ripped off my clothes and threw myself into the sea followed by a stroll down the sand. Indians are naturally clean people and do not like to dirty their own doorsteps. It soon became apparent why we needed to rechristen our night stop, Turdle Beach. Every forty yards or so along the beach was a squatting Indian, pants round ankles not dirtying his own doorstep in the beachfront village. Not a good place for an after-dinner walk in the dark.

After ten days we had come to love our quirky old bikes, their funny false neutrals and strange decompression levers that you had to tickle if you wanted to start the bike.

I had learned at dinner the night before that Zander had more steel in his body than bone. I was glad not to have known this earlier as I had been comforting myself over the long 3,000 very Indian kilometres of our trip that if he had been risking his life on Indian roads for sixteen years and he was fine, then we should be too. If I’d known earlier that his forearm was titanium (a cow, which walked placidly away with hardly a moo after Zander had demolished his Enfield colliding with it), steel foot (a fast-moving palm tree), and various other pins and bolts after miscellaneous encounters with the flotsam and jetsam of the Indian road, I would have been even more terrified than I was.

But now, a day later, we had arrived safe and sound in the Joly Julie, a group of startling red and white bungalows in the forest a mile or so from Hippy Heaven (Anjuna Beach).

India and Zander’s Mystery Tour had been grand. I, who lived a life of five-star spoiltness in England, had spent two weeks in conditions that would at times have made an 18 year old backpacker blanch. Our standard meal was vegetable curry on a banana leaf and dosas cooked on a hot stone in a tiny roadside shacklet with a tin cup of chai, hot, syrupy, milky tea. Yet for the first time I had survived a trip to India without Delhi Belly.

As I sat sipping a Mojito, a newly bought wooden-chunk bracelet adorned with mystic Tantric signs on my wrist, and looked at a cow chewing contentedly at the edge of the surf, I thought back over the longest three thousand kilometres I had ever done and knew there was only one thing to say.

“Om.”

I felt flat that the trip was over.

No more reason for the adrenalin to pump but apart from the Goa burn tattoos and a cricked back from the concrete mattresses, I had seldom felt more content. Ganesh had delivered us safe.

Zander proposed a bike trip to a deserted beach ‘only 30 clicks away’. I remembered Das Boot, the wonderful German film about a U-Boat that survives everything from depth charges to ruptured pressure hull on an Atlantic hunting trip. As the boat chugs serenely into Brest, its home port, sun shining, mission accomplished, with the crew on deck celebrating, they are suddenly wiped out by an RAF bomb.

No-one voiced it but we all felt that one more outing on our brave Bullets could be throwing Providence one offering too many in the way of temptation.

Instead I spent the last morning drinking mojitos at the Rock On Cafe, ‘Where You Rock’ on Ozran Beach between Little Vagator and Anjuna. The beach was busy. Half the population of Moscow was there. Every rock and empty bit of white breaking-surf sand was peopled with near-naked pairs of Russian girls being photographed, bodies entwined in Sapphic poses, by pot-bellied Russians with extending lenses. I sat entranced trying to catch the action on the zoom of my inadequate little Panasonic.

See page 40 in the Books section of this magazine for more details of Cobra in the Bath.

Go to: extremebiketours.com for information about Zander Combe’s tours. the old radleian 2015

25

Founding a brewery

founding a brewery The Gypsy Hill Team: Charlie & Sam, co-founders with Simon the brewer

sam mcmeekin Radley 1996-2001 26

the old radleian 2015

The Gipsy Hill Brewing Company

Mick Habgood

Jock Mullard, my old rowing coach, is coming to ask me why I wanted to start a brewery. My head is throbbing from an overzealous quality control session, and my mind is spinning from technical information overload after an overwhelming chat with an industry professional re: precise brewing equipment design, best-in-class production processes, dry-hopping techniques, oxygen pickup, cold breaks, hot breaks, carbonation methods... etc. On top of this I’m unshaved, tired looking and a bit dirty after spending the morning helping mash-in – hopefully we still made a good impression!

It’s been a rollercoaster year. 6-7 days a week. Huge stress at failed brews, dodgy equipment, figuring out the best way to extract flavour and aroma from our raw ingredients. Incredible highs with multiple beer awards, successful trials, exponential learning and winning hearts and minds.

It’s incessant. Every day I’m working on our production process, marketing and events, staff management (we have 4...), financial control, sales, quality control, procurement and stock management.

We’re selling around 10-15,000 pints a week in and around London at the moment and just beginning to grow e-commerce and start supplying wholesalers. So business is going well.

Where’s Gipsy Hill at now?

How did it come to be?

We started brewing in August 2014, I started full time on the 1st of that month. In mid-July 2014 I still had my head buried in spreadsheets analysing financial ratios for African banks. By mid-August I was coming home covered in sweet malt dust! Changes don’t come much more drastic.

I had been working in financial services since leaving university (backdrop: I left Radley in 2001 and went to West Coast USA for university (Stanford, graduated 2005)). After 2008’s financial meltdown my graduate training programme crumbled away and I had to decide what to do. I moved to West Africa to work

in micro-financial services and to learn French, helping and guiding entrepreneurs build their businesses and report on their progress. I then did an MBA at London Business School (graduated 2012) and moved in private equity investing in subSaharan Africa (SSA). I wanted to keep working with entrepreneurs and SSA. For a variety of reasons that experience wasn’t what I hoped it would be (happy to chat to anyone looking to move into direct SSA investment). I soon realised that I didn’t just want to work with entrepreneurs, but as an entrepreneur...but I’d never managed anyone, and was currently highly specialised in making spreadsheets, business analysis and powerpoint slides, and that wasn’t going to change.

So I thought about leaving – what should I do? Do what you love, that’s what people say. What was that? I have always loved high quality produce. I’m a sucker for organics and salivate at farmer’s markets.

I’ve never had the time to satisfy that urge, and love using good process and products to make the best steaks, roasts, cured fish, whatever. I thought I would turn my hand

Sam McMeekin the old radleian 2015

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Founding a brewery

to beer, build a brand, a product range, and create a culture and identity that I could be proud of. Enter a competitive, fast-growing market and make my best effort to claim a market share. Demand for micro-brewed beer is booming, most of all in London. The UK currently has the highest number of breweries per head in 28

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the world. Consumers are more and more interested in how beer is made and where it comes from, and, importantly, requiring that it tastes better!

I started talking to distributors, brewers, did brewery tours – started learning. My big break came in meeting my business

partner, Charlie. He was a mutual friend I’d known for 10 years, and he was doing it. He had already started, he had found an industrial unit, ordered equipment and was waiting for it to arrive while planning the installation. I asked him a thousand questions and in the end we decided to go at it together. My 2 year brew-plan

Is it the dream?

The grass is always greener, even if you run a brewery! I’m constantly stressed.

But I was before. I’m more in control of my life, make my kids’ bath-time (almost) every day, and I get to run my own show, build my own culture.

I’ve learnt from bad bosses and am trying to not make their mistakes. I’m learning exponentially, which is great and that really keeps you motivated.

I’ve essentially redesigned our brewing and manufacturing process to maximise flavours, aromas of beer and efficiency

within the brewery. I’ve learnt everything from scratch and it’s been amazing.

It’s also literally just the start. We’ve barely begun on this journey. There is still so much more to do. It’s wonderful how if you reach out to people with a willingness to learn and a humble attitude they just help you. I can’t thank enough all the brewers and technicians that have helped us and will continue to.

What’s next?

We’re expanding! Currently we’re brewing at capacity and we need more fermenters. We’re shifting from 70% cask ale production to 40%, and we’re upping our bottle/keg production to about 35%/25%. Relevance of that is that it takes three weeks to make a bottle/ keg of beer vs. one week to make cask,

so it eats our brewing capacity. We’re improving our online presence and sales so we can handle further e-orders.

Building out staff to do more events.

Broadening our core product range from currently 4 to probably around 5-6 plus seasonal brews. Recruiting is a constant issue to cope with; finding well qualified staff and making them happy to be working hard soaks a lot of time. Sourcing appropriate equipment to improve quality at the right price... the list goes on.

Also, we’ll be launching a crowd funding campaign soon to build a bar and upgrade further equipment! Watch this space to see what comes of it. We’ll be counting on Radleian investor support – there’ll be lots of great incentives for being involved.

Mick Habgood

turned into a 2 month plan. I handed in my notice two weeks later and we built a strategy around what equipment we had ordered and the kind of beers we wanted to make.

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tributes to

Anthony Hudson MBE Tutor of F Social 1970-1984 and Sub-Warden 1979-1988 Anthony Hudson, affectionately known as Huddy, died on 8th March 2015.

From The Radleian 1988: It is hard to contemplate Radley without Anthony Hudson. When a man has taught with distinction in a school for nearly a quarter of a century he begins to blend into the landscape: for us he was as much a part of our daily life as Clock Tower, Shop or the Radley Oak. Magician, after-dinner speaker, leg break bowler, prehensile dancer, preacher, teacher and sage: where there is so much accomplishment, such wide-ranging talents, the gap he leaves becomes a gaping void. Here was a man who could turn his hand to anything and bring to each activity a distinction and single-minded determination to “do it properly” which left the whole Radley community the richer for his having been here. Here was a real schoolmaster.

The concept of the Renaissance Man fascinated him: the idea of the civilised all-rounder whose example lifted those around him, widened youthful horizons and set new standards of achievement.

Though we teased him about it we marvelled at the results he produced and were grateful, for he never lost sight of the priorities. He knew that to teach well is the schoolmaster’s imperative, and no colleague put more into his preparation, but he was equally clear

that, for the lessons to stick, there had to be fun and sparkle, and that showed even in his reports. They were at once a challenge and a delight, giving the parent as much intellectual exercise as the pupil.

He would underline historical parallels between the boy’s performance and the period he was studying. Thus he kept the flame burning. Mazarin and Richelieu, Ludendorf and Haigh: those and many more were pressed into service; nothing was sacred. Sometimes there would be glorious pastiche. Will anyone who read it ever forget the Major-General’s Song as he applied it to Euan Tait who had played the role in The Pirates of Penzance? The time and care he took over such jeux d’esprit at the busiest time of term underlined one of his great strengths: the capacity for hard work which enabled him to keep going when ordinary men would be snoring in their beds.

To him the classroom was one with all that went on outside it. His vision of the schoolmaster’s job was all embracing. It was about building character. In his efforts to consolidate strengths and eradicate weaknesses he was indefatigable and fearless. He never left things to chance or swept “nasties” under the carpet. If a nettle needed grasping he grasped it.

At times he might have seemed obsessive to the idle, scruffy and uncommitted boy, but he understood the importance of getting the detail right, of building up self-

discipline to the point at which it became self perpetuating. It is always much easier for a schoolmaster to shirk the daily battle against sloppiness, to turn the blind eye to the unthinking discourtesy, the flapping shirt tail and the conduct that erodes the standards which produce happy, positive achievement in the community of a school. Radley has had no more courageous defender of its intent in the last twenty years than Anthony Hudson.

His commitment to Radley was prodigious and it was born of his love for the place.

It is, however, as an enabler rather than as a pedagogic policeman that he will best be remembered. At one end of the spectrum he was a remarkable rugger coach who understood perfectly how to get the very best out of any material to hand. No-one understood better how to play to the strengths of his players and cover their weaknesses. His teams were driven hard, but they revelled in it.

Radley’s rugby football owes a huge debt to him. He expended oceans of adrenalin in upholding it. Woe to that unthinking parent who tried to engage him in polite conversation on the touchline of a field on which his Junior Colts were playing.

Huddy never even noticed they were there.

As a Tutor he was peerless. Here the secret again was team-work, this time with his Head of Social, his House Prefects and above all with his wife, Liz. Between the two of them they supplied wise counsel, the old radleian 2015

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warm affection and endless hospitality.

He had the confidence of his parents and the fierce loyalty of his boys. He was tireless in providing opportunities for them. They learned to speak in public, to develop their creative skills, even to rock ‘n’ roll. They became magicians and actors, potters and fly tyers, debaters and cabinet makers. None was left to drift. They defied probability by winning not only all the sporting competitions but also the more cerebral and artistic competitions. Tutor set tough targets and his charges responded. He drove his boys, but they knew he drove himself even harder. The watchword again was commitment. The same qualities were evident in his reign as Sub Warden, even if the scope of the job was very different. In every situation I found him totally loyal and supportive. If I needed restraining he had the courage to speak his mind. If I then over-ruled him I knew he would back me to the hilt, however much he might privately have disagreed with me. Where I blundered he covered up for me and often took the rap.

Everything that could make my job easier or less pressurised was immediately done and he had the sensitivity to know that even a Warden needs encouragement.

Quite simply he was a joy to work with and I feel privileged to have shared a daily crack-of-dawn meeting with him for the past thirty terms.

As I stand back to assess it all I am clear that the bedrock of his success has been a marvellous marriage and a happy family.

It is impossible for me to visualise Huddy without Liz or Robin or Nicky or Lucy.

They constitute what I believe employers call “a complete package”, a package moreover where the sum is greater than the total of the parts. A school needs an example like this to show what it stands for. Pangbourne has made an outstandingly good choice in picking its new headmaster. But one ageing Radley don at least will still remember most vividly of all the slight, hunched figure on the eastern touchline of Sugworth 1. It is the middle of a grey November Saturday afternoon. Clad in a dilapidated, faded blue anorak and pigeon-toed gum boots, he is once again willing his Junior Colts to give their all. To have witnessed his commitment and success has been humbling; to have enjoyed his friendship remains a constant inspiration.

Dennis Silk (Radley Warden 1968-1991) 32

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From the Pangbourne website: Anthony Hudson, Headmaster 1988-2000 Anthony Hudson (or Huddy, as he was widely known) arrived at Pangbourne with a reputation as an outstanding Housemaster at Radley and a competitive rugby coach. He brought both sets of skills to bear almost immediately. He inherited a school that was at a crossroads with falling numbers and an ethos that looked outdated to many prospective parents, an ex-naval school living on past glories. Into this setting he and his wife, Liz, brought a huge injection of vitality, humanity and liberal educational values, a wide knowledge of the teaching world and an even wider social world, all of which they invited into Devitt. The doors of the College were literally thrown open.

Huddy promptly set out to improve recruitment by raising the games standards. This he achieved through attracting young, talented and charismatic games-playing schoolmasters. Many were drawn through personal contact (Tim Marvin was recruited from Mars) and through quirky adverts: ‘Wanted: Renaissance Man, old head on young legs’. From one such advert he recruited Keith Young, David Tooze and Roger Cheeseman, acquiring two housemasters and three heads of major games in one fell swoop. The result was a galvanising injection of energy into Common Room, which occasionally produced tension with the Old Guard.

Always looking to make learning fun, Huddy generated instant traditions like French Days, when the school was expected to speak, eat and even play games entirely in French. Pragmatically, he allowed two girls to join the Sixth Form (one is now a lawyer and governor and the other a vet).

Huddy and Liz were accomplished social animals. Each September term would be inaugurated by ‘Mrs. Hudson’s End of Summer Party’. It proved a typically convivial event which rarely ended before midnight. Every Parade Sunday saw an inspecting officer invited from their vast array of friends and contacts and after parade there was a drinks party in Devitt. Visiting prep school headmasters were warmly entertained to lunch every week and left feeling their pupils would

be cherished at Pangbourne. Numbers rose dramatically, as did morale and an essential building programme began in earnest. It was a dynamic and exciting period in the school’s history.

Huddy’s characteristic response to the tribulations of January 1993 was to be painfully transparent, showing an honesty which many misunderstood. However, Huddy re-gathered his strength, and he and Liz put their shoulders to the wheel a second time and got the College’s confidence and numbers back up to over 400. The commitment to take girls right through the school was a defining moment which helped to consolidate the pastoral revolution which was already underway.

Huddy had long cherished the noble ideal of building the Falkland Islands Memorial Chapel as the living centrepiece of a Christian school. Recruiting some remarkable allies, he drove a unique campaign through myriad funding and bureaucratic obstacles to a triumphant conclusion. In his last year he proudly welcomed the Queen to its formal opening. He was awarded the MBE for this work and the Chapel remains a fitting monument to his virtue and to his vision.

He was a much loved headmaster, particularly by young staff and pupils.

When the school was inspected in 1993, the Chief Inspector pointed out that an unprecedented 85% of the pupils said that their first port of call in trouble was the headmaster. It is an appropriate tribute to a man who cared deeply, passionately even, about the school. He put his life and soul into the school, and we remember him with deep affection and gratitude.

From The Times: Campaigner who enlisted Margaret Thatcher’s help in raising funds to build a chapel in memory of those killed in the Falklands conflict When Anthony Hudson arrived at Pangbourne College in 1988 to assume the post of headmaster, he was surprised and disappointed to find that the school did not have its own chapel.

Instead, the school’s Drake Hall was used for everything from discos to acts of worship. “Huddy”, as he was known to

the generations he taught, felt this was inadequate. He regarded a chapel not just as a place of religious contemplation and worship but a key element in building a strong school community.

Hudson was formidably determined and once he had set on his plan to build a chapel, nothing was going to stop him.

This might have been a parochial matter, of importance only to Pangbourne, had it not been for a conversation over dinner with Admiral Sir John “Sandy” Woodward.

The commander of the naval task force in the Falklands conflict pointed out that there was no permanent memorial in the UK to the servicemen and islanders who lost their lives in the south Atlantic in 1982. Hudson determined that he would correct that omission and Pangbourne, with its background as a naval college, was the perfect place to do it.

So began an extraordinary campaign to bring a chapel and memorial to life, that he ran virtually single-handedly in its early stages, raising money and interest and overcoming obstacles that would have defeated a less committed individual.

At the start of his quest, Hudson found a disused Methodist chapel on Salisbury high street and proposed moving it, brick-by-brick, to Pangbourne, more than 50 miles away in Berkshire. This idea collapsed when the owners cottoned on to who he was and upped their price.

Undeterred, he then commissioned architects to design a new building although the first blueprint was rejected by planners who condemned it as “boring”.

Taking their advice, Hudson launched a national competition to design what became the Falkland Islands Memorial Chapel.

The chapel ended up costing £2.3 million and was opened in March 2000 by the Queen. It was designed by the Crispin Wride Architectural Design Studio and, in form, is reminiscent of the lines of a ship. The building also suggests hands cupped in prayer. It has a stained-glass window depicting the Falkland Islands within the Cross, surrounded by a lively sea in shades of blue, green, yellow and grey. This was designed by John Clark, who also created the memorial window to the victims of the Lockerbie disaster. The chapel and its garden is a memorial not

just to the dead but to the courage of the thousands of men and women who served in the conflict. The names of the dead are permanently commemorated on a stone wall, which was paid for by the author Frederick Forsyth, an old friend of the headmaster.

a five-figure sum from her own pocket.

Hudson remembered arriving for the lunch. “Lady T greeted us warmly. ‘Now then, I don’t know who’s talking about this plan of yours, but you have only two minutes because we are going to enjoy ourselves’,” he wrote.

Hudson was proud of the elegant and evocative building which every year hosts services for the bereaved, attended by up to 600 people. In retirement he wrote Just to See His Name, an account of his campaign, recalling how Margaret Thatcher became a passionate supporter of the project.

“Patrick Robinson [co-writer of Admiral Woodward’s account of the war, One Hundred Days] was our first speaker.

Lady T sat demurely in the front row, hands on knees, eyes unwavering on Patrick until, after two minutes she leapt to her feet. ‘Exactly Patrick. Let me tell you what it was like to be prime minister at that time...’

She hosted two fundraising lunches at her home at Chester Square in London, the first of which raised £250,000, including

“Without a note, she spoke for 25 minutes, recalling every place, ship, the old radleian 2015

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name – indeed almost every map reference, without drawing breath. It was a stunning tour de force. Then, just as suddenly, she sat down, saying, ‘Now Patrick, you go on inspiring them . . . ’ “Patrick and I tried, of course, but it was pale beer after such a virtuoso performance.”

All the while Hudson was continuing his day job as headmaster at Pangbourne. He and his wife Liz galvanised the school, throwing it open to new ideas and reversing years of decline. The school was modernised from top to bottom and one of his biggest achievements was the introduction of co-education throughout the school.

Anthony Bruce Edward Hudson was born in London in 1938. His father, George Hudson, was a family solicitor who had wanted to be a teacher himself.

Hudson was an only child and he and his mother were evacuated to Exeter during the war after their house was bombed.

The young boy learnt to spend many hours on his own, something that gave him great self-reliance and an ability to empathise with boys struggling away from home at boarding school. He also learnt magic tricks in childhood and became an accomplished magician, often sawing his wife and daughters in half as part of his well-practised illusions.

Hudson attended Marlborough House prep school in Kent and Tonbridge where he was head boy and captain of cricket, rugby and boxing. During a stint at Grenoble University in 1958, he met Elizabeth Willis; they were married in 1963. She survives him along with his three children: Robin, an industrialist, Nicola, a teacher, and Lucy, a marketing executive.

After reading history at Lincoln College, Oxford and gaining an education diploma at London University, the young Hudson became a teacher at Radley College in 1964. He was deputy headmaster from 1970 until 1988.

He never stepped into an aeroplane, preferring to drive to holiday destinations, whether they be in Europe or north Africa. He was something of a wine buff and cricket remained a passion. He retired in 2000.

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His lifelong friend David Kemp believed his playful streak was key to his success as a teacher. “He had a gift of putting himself in their [the boys] shoes, which wasn’t hard because there was a boyish quality about him, which I think parents found attractive.”

When he left Radley for Pangbourne, the warden, Dennis Silk, recalled Hudson on the touchline on match days. “Clad in a dilapidated, faded blue anorak and pigeon-toed gum-boots, he is once again willing his junior colts to give their all.”

Anthony Hudson, MBE, headmaster and founder of the Falkland Islands Memorial Chapel, was born on October 11, 1938.

He died of cancer on March 8, aged 76.

From The Times website: Mr P. J. LeRoy: Your fitting tribute to Anthony Hudson, the visionary Head of Pangbourne College whose enterprise and drive resulted in the brilliantly designed Falklands Memorial Chapel understandably had less space for his other achievements. He was a most remarkable schoolmaster, in the best sense of this word: someone committed to the all-round development and total well-being of his pupils. To those of us who were his colleagues at Radley, during Dennis Silk’s Wardenship, his flair, inspirational teaching and remarkable drive as a housemaster of the most successful ‘Social’, put most of us in the shade.

Your final paragraph pictured this slender, unathletic-looking, bespectacled figure urging on a junior rugby team – possibly the one captained by ITV’s Mark Durden-Smith. However, 1st XV Rugby coaches during the 1970s on one of the most competitive circuits will remember how difficult it was to overcome their Huddy-coached opponents. Mike Davis, England international and Grand Slam coach thought very highly of him. His teams always came on the pitch highlymotivated and fully prepared; probably with historical allusions to brilliant attackers such as Frederick the Great or Gustavus Adolphus, or bullish defenders such as Vauban or Petain, with “Ils ne passeront pas” ringing in their ears. His History reports, with similar content

relating to the particular pupil, must have required some interpretation for puzzled, but highly appreciative parents.

It was typical of jargon-averse Huddy, newly Head of Pangbourne College, to advertise in the Times Educational Supplement for “An old-fashioned schoolmaster with a young pair of legs”. That his eternal youthfulness and remarkable vigour enabled him in retirement to chair the governors of a new academy in a demanding locality was testimony to his total devotion to the well-being of young people.

Mark Rushon’s address at Huddy’s Funeral: Huddy said, and would be telling us now, “Get the tears over and done with.”

So today we cry, we smile and we remember an exceptional man, a “Veray Parfit Gentil Knight”, who touched all of us with his enthusiasm, wisdom and joyful friendship.

This, the Falkland Islands Memorial Chapel, is the result of his relentless endeavours, and a fitting a place for us to pray and say goodbye in a quiet, intimate and familiar way to Anthony Bruce Edward Hudson.

Judged by those who knew him, this was a very special man with many, many friends and admirers – and now we share some of their words written and spoken about him. We recall his smile, that enduring smile, the love and laughter that permeated his existence, his warmth, his interest in others, the generous amusement in those kind blue eyes and that inimitable sparkle.

For here was a great contributor to life – a wise, perceptive and gentle man who had a most distinguished career in education, but a man who wore his talents lightly, merging humility and humour. He epitomised fairness and decency, possessing a remarkable sense of equality and a quiet and effective authority in his many roles.

Yet Huddy claimed to have had NO friends at all until he was eight. He was the only child of his loving parents Audrey and George Edward, known as “London Granny and Grandpa” to

Robin, Nicky and Lucy, and practised magic alone in his bedrooms in Ashburn Place and Sloane Court West. He was, of course, later to become an accomplished and hilarious conjuror, performing at parties and schools; and even playing twice nightly for 10 nights only in that famous venue, the Toby Jug in Albufeira.

His stage name: Houdini the Hud. He was also to become a purveyor of exceptional schoolboy education, but then he had been an exceptional schoolboy himself.

Blossoming socially at Marlborough House Prep, this only child went on to captain Tonbridge for Cricket, Rugby and Boxing (the last tells us something of the steeliness of this apparently frangible man). From a “Nasty Novi”, he grew into a conscientious academic enthusiast, a superb Head Boy and fine leader.

However, it was Grenoble University, before he went up to Lincoln, that proved to be his most important sojourn. During six months of intensive French, it was there that “love’s young dream” was born.

Huddy fell totally for an attractive and lively girl, Liz Willis. As for Liz? She had already told her father, pointing to Huddy, “That is the man I want to marry.” They exchanged vows 5 years later.

Huddy made Liz laugh and continued to make her laugh through their 52 years together. While Liz was the practical one of the two, she sorted out the cars, it’s not unfair to say that, in this area, Huddy was hopeless. In so many aspects of their lovely lives together they complemented each other – ying and yang – and we were the beneficiaries. And together they made us laugh.

Only Huddy could walk into ‘Singletons’ the Estate Agent and announce “I’d like a love-nest – but one to share with my middle-aged wife”.

Only he could then choose a completely impractical dwelling, ‘The Boathouse’.

And only Liz could make his impracticality work – using a wheelbarrow on the path to and from the front door.

As a couple, they were a force far more colossal than the sum of its parts.

It was a combination that made for the most incredible parents. We, his charges, were lucky enough to be “temporarily parented” by them – and have memories of the two of them teaching us a variety of life skills from dinner party conversational etiquette to rock and roll in the Octagon (using furniture as partners if there were too many boys for Liz, Nicky and Lucy); from an appreciation of Burgundy to our behaviour towards girls – and their mothers!

Women loved Huddy – for he was an attentive listener. And he loved women.

But Liz was always “the only girl for him”.

“Ant” – she could call him that – was devoted and touchingly generous, only months ago giving his “Lizzie” a beautiful diamond ring in the shape of this Chapel to encapsulate his love for her for ever.

His love for his family was also unbounded, and his support and belief in his children was unfaltering. He regretted, however, that, in their early years, he couldn’t give his children that much needed currency, time, because, as ever, his duty and his pupils came first. Such was his strength as a father (coupled with Liz’s unstinting support) that the children never felt hard done by.

It is now, however, that he should have been spending time with them and his lovely grandchildren, Nicky and Mark’s: Sophie, George and Oliver – Robin and Sylvie’s: Zoe and Emma – and Lucy and Brian’s: Ella and Guy. Meeting Liz meant he declined an invitation at Oxford to become a spy – a fortunate decision for thousands of Radleians and Pangbournians he taught the old radleian 2015

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pupils would, if they had a problem, go to the Headmaster, Huddy himself. It is a staggering statistic – one never seen before by that Chief Inspector of Social Services.

In so many ways, Huddy was the Renaissance Man he wanted each boy to strive to be. Yet, in several charming ways, he never stopped being a schoolboy himself. He could, at times, behave like an obstreperous adolescent, particularly his simple sweet jealousy when Liz was partying in particularly vivacious and flirty mode after a glass or two. Their relationship could be fiery at times, but usually Huddy managed to defray the tension with a short one liner that would make Liz laugh – and all would be well.

The Falkland Islands Memorial Chapel was built through the efforts of Anthony Hudson and tutored, and hundreds of colleagues he supported and mentored, so he became one of the golden generation of schoolmasters who transformed boys’ lives and, in doing so, transformed two schools.

He was a brilliant and effective History Don whose pupils learned to love his subject as he did and achieved top results.

Huddy’s huddles in the History corridor were famous and he was a genuine team man. But he liked neither formal History department meetings nor, indeed, Tutors’ meetings. The substance of teamwork was more important than the form. So, replacing Warden with wine, he initiated gatherings afterwards in Common Room known as “Not the Tutor’s meetings”.

In his early days at Radley, he had won over a cynical Common Room with his dedication to the importance of good sport – no mean feat given that one of his flaws was that he couldn’t countenance others who did not share his commitment.

He was firm at times and shrewdly judgmental, but never unfair or vindictive and had an uncanny knack of spotting hidden talent and bringing it out into the open – he encouraged every single boy to test and maximise their abilities, caring about all types of boy, not merely the successful ones.

His “fireside chats” delivered from a wingbacked chair were perfectly tempered with empathy, wisdom and sensitivity – 36

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regardless of whether he was dispensing praise, admonition or advice.

Sadly, he frequently laboured under the intense pain of migraines that had started during his Finals at Oxford. They afflicted him as he took over F Social, but seemed to get better during his 9 years as SubWarden of Radley and, later, after some months at Pangbourne, he realised that they had stopped.

When he arrived at Pangbourne, he brought academic discipline, sporting excellence, improved pastoral care and “fresh” conventions. Fun and energy emanated from Devitt House, social verve pervaded and, champagne flowed when the Pangbourne 1st XV beat Radley, unhappily from this partisan perspective.

As a headmaster he would write individual letters to each pupil who did well in any field – he continually gave praise, the right praise. Indeed, his letters to friends, colleagues and parents were always apposite and his reports on pupils were brilliant – as were his parodies.

He cared deeply and personally for his school and how he could drive and develop it; so the sadness of a boy’s tragic death in 1993 hit him hard, and never really left him. He strove to recover the school, its morale and its future. The pupils knew he cared and was there for them, to the extent that one of the ensuing inspections found that 85% of

He may have worn his heart on his sleeve, but “chivalry, truth, honour, freedom and courtesy” coursed through his veins.

He might perhaps be considered simple and open, but this would be to overlook and underestimate his integrity and the depths of one of life’s most complicated characters.

So today we cry, we smile and we remember that character. We mourn his passing now, but we look forward to celebrating his life in a joyous way, as he would have done, at his thanksgiving next month.

Tomorrow, and all the tomorrows to come, we carry with us his glorious gifts of tutoring, friendship, parenthood and love.

Huddy, those of us who saw dawn breaking on Monday two weeks ago witnessed the most beautiful sunrise.

Later that day, as word reached us of your lost battle the previous night, that dawn seemed to symbolise the deserved peace and tranquillity that, after 76 years, had now befallen you, our friend, husband, father and grandfather.

With so much love and gratitude for your enduring influence on each of us, the time has come... “Farewell, Gentil Knight”.

Richard Morgan’s address at Huddy’s Thanksgiving Service: Friday afternoon. September. Radley.

Bigside. Huddy is preparing the Radley

Will Bailey

1st XV for the match on the morrow. He is young, willowy, he moves so easily with the ball in his hand, he radiates knowledge and passion, energy and purpose. The Tonbridge scarf is wrapped round his neck and he wears a track suit that is so scruffy that, on a bad day, it would be rejected by an Oxfam shop – in Addis Ababa. You will all have memories of him, this most lovely and lovable man. Good schoolmasters make an impact on the lives of the pupils in their charge, great schoolmasters have a moral influence that can guide and fashion their lives forever.

Anthony Bruce Edward Hudson was a great schoolmaster.

So what are the key questions that need to be asked of this man whose influence was so profound?

Who formed his mind?

Huddy’s father was a London lawyer and together they shared a love of games. His mother was intellectual, a great reader of books who had to tolerate the endless talk of cricket from her husband and only child. At one stage, in the middle of an Australian Test series, she became so desperate that she rose to her feet with the words, “If either of you mention that word ever again, I will divorce you both”.

“What word?” asked Huddy. Her reply: “Cowdrey.”

At prep. school at Marlborough House, he captained everything and then followed in his father’s footsteps to Tonbridge, a school that was to play a dominant part in his life. This was the Tonbridge of Kemp and Bushby, Langdale and Gracey.

His record is outstanding – three years in the Rugby XV, three years in the Cricket XI playing against Clifton at Lord’s, an extraordinarily fine lightweight boxer and Head Boy to boot. He was a golden boy and, as the psalmist says ready to fly “on the wings of the morning”.

Then before going up to Lincoln College, Oxford came the health problems that were to dog him over time. From then on, he did not have the physical strength to dominate the rugby pitch but was a first class player for the College. He played for the University Authentics at cricket and took numerous wickets with his inimitable guile as a leg spin bowler and he worked at his History with a determination and application worthy of the best academics.

Indeed, he was very proud of the fact that

David Searle and Huddy – Radley 1972 or 1973 his Tutor, John Owen, always said that he and James Tyrrell worked as hard as any undergraduates he ever knew – so hard that, in spite of the fact they were both seriously good games players, they were known as the two grey men of Lincoln.

Indeed, I have never known a man with a greater intellectual love of games, especially rugger [though some will argue that intellect is an unknown factor in that game or as Max Beerbohm might have said of a photograph of a rugby side – 15 men with but one thought. If that.] the old radleian 2015

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Tonbridge stayed with him all his life.

How he relished the Skinners, the huge honour of becoming Master, the rhyming graces which became his hallmark and inevitably, he was President of the Old Tonbridgean Society for many years.

Tonbridge and Oxford, these were the two institutions that formed his mind and stayed with him all his life.

What did he achieve in his life? What is his legacy?

He and Liz arrived at Radley in 1964, persuaded to come by Simon Langdale and appointed by the Warden, Wyndham Milligan, who saw immediately that he was right for Radley. The golden boy brought a golden wife and what a hugely attractive couple they were. He was a junior form master, he taught History with knowledge and inspiration at every level, he coached all games, he became an outstanding and much loved Tutor and then became Sub Warden. In sum, he held every post he could and gave his magic, sometimes literally, to them all.

And after 24 years, he moved here to Pangbourne to become equally successful as a Headmaster.

And yet there was this enigma. This wonderful, successful record was achieved not by some confident, loud, ambitious schoolmaster on the make. Here was a very talented man who portrayed himself as diffident, almost hesitant, someone who gradually cultivated self deprecation to an art that can only be described as world class. For example: Huddy is taking his Junior Colts team to Harrow. He is greeted by an old friend from Oxford, Tony Beadles and a young assistant, Peter Warfield, who had played rugger for England. Hardly had Huddy got off the bus than he says to Tony, “I’m not sure why we have come This is one of the weakest sides I have ever coached.”

“O,” says Tony. “I must see the referee before the match starts to tell him that if the score at half time is embarrassing, he must not hesitate to blow the whistle early.” Tony knows this from of old. “Well, Huddy,” he says. “This happens to be a dreadful Harrow side. Our outsides are hopeless. You will score every time you have the ball.” The former England rugby international is incredulous. “What are you both talking about? This is the last match of the season and everyone knows both sides are unbeaten!”

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Huddy’s experience as an outstanding schoolboy set a standard for everyone in his charge. Yet it was tempered by his own anxieties and thus he understood, and had great sympathy with, those who did not find school easy, those who struggled with their academic work, those who did not enjoy games, those who had shifting sands at home. He had this instinctive understanding of the wholeness of humanity that shone through all the roles he played.

Some felt that these qualities were so appropriate to being a Housemaster and Sub Warden that he should have remained at Radley but his talent demanded a larger stage. And here it must be said that the example of Dennis Silk as Warden had the most profound influence on him, and Huddy, like so many of us, owed Dennis a huge debt of gratitude.

As Headmaster, his apparent gentleness seemed at odds with the naval traditions of this College but everyone soon learnt that there was steel in their new leader and the size of the College meant he could know everyone. He was a house mastering Headmaster. He knew that morale and confidence were key to achieving the best possible standards and there was no better place to excel than on the rugby pitches and on the river. To that end he sought new members of Common Room with that legendary advertisement “Wanted. Renaissance Men. Old heads on young legs” – in reality, a mirror image of himself. Pangbourne became even more formidable as all schools, including Radley, found to their cost. A very high standard of rugby was played and in 1992 the VIII won the Princess Elizabeth Cup at Henley – and it does not get any better than that.

And the crowning glory, of course, is this Chapel. Very few Headmasters have built chapels in the last hundred years and here is not only a school chapel but a national memorial Chapel opened by the Queen, with Lady Thatcher, in the congregation.

This great venture demanded vision, faith, persuasion and persistence. He created a team around him and as he always said, if the original idea came from Admiral Sir Sandy Woodward, it could never have been built without the generosity and personal support of his friend, Sir John Madejski. This is not

only a beautiful building, it is a symbol of the importance of the Spirit in a secular age, the importance of togetherness as communities fragment and remembrance of those who served their country. This is a stunning achievement and how right it was to read of it in that wonderful obituary in The Times.

This Chapel has to be central to his legacy but it is more than matched by the affection in which he is held by his pupils, their parents and his colleagues. His kindness and generosity, his extraordinary ability to make everyone feel important, his support of those who found life difficult, all these qualities meant that he won our hearts. That is his true legacy.

The final question – one that is much the hardest to answer. What was the essence of the man? What was at the core of his being?

At the centre of his life was his marriage to Liz, his children Robin, Nicky and Lucy and all the grandchildren, of whom he was immensely proud. Huddy could never have achieved all he did without Liz. Their marriage was a great partnership and they marched side by side together through the good days and not so good days, through these last few years of ill health with extraordinary courage and through all the other years with style and laughter and, of course, with legendary hospitality. Hudson parties were on an epic scale with the very best wine and food, always in their own home and thus everyone could enjoy the wall of history books and the fabulous watercolour collection and know what civilisation meant.

The more I have wondered about what made him so special, the more I think of a quality that may surprise you in a Housemaster and Headmaster – his apparent vulnerability. Not vulnerable in the sense of being wounded but in the sense of his humility. That vulnerability made people want to help him and want to play for him and thus brought out their very best. He was so transparently decent, his goodness shone out of him. And this has to be based on his belief in God for whose worship he built this Chapel and he lived his life by that Christian spirit.

He was a great schoolmaster because his humanity was wider than just the schools in which he taught. He was a great schoolmaster because he listened to his

pupils and he cared passionately about them, whatever the cost to himself. He was a civilised man and therefore an interesting man, he enriched our lives, he was a man in whose company we all delighted. And what was at the very core of his being? He believed in what he did.

In the words of Samuel Crossman, the C17th Dean of Bristol: Anthony Bruce Edward Hudson.

Yes. You were my Friend, My Friend indeed, In whose sweet praise, I all my days, Could gladly spend.

Amen.

A footnote from Dave Fielding (Radley Common Room 1965-1995): Huddy and I had our differences; no doubt about that. Once or twice during the autumn term we would clash, eyeball to eyeball, chin to chin, as to whether the boy “X”, needed by me for a vital Departmental Outing, would fail his geography exam if he didn’t explore a crucial bit of England’s coastline, or conversely, being also needed by Huddy, he would miss being taught another vital skill with the oval ball, thus inevitably resulting in a humiliating defeat for his team in the pending needle match at the weekend. We usually managed some sort of compromise without resorting to the High Court.

I was pleasantly surprised therefore when Huddy approached me with a polite request to referee his Junior Colts in a home match. I was also flattered.

Huddy, King of the Junior Colts 1st XV, the nursery of the future 1st XV, was very particular about inviting his referees for the home matches. There were better refs than me in the Rugby Club, but either they had all been snaffled up for other matches, or, knowing that Huddy’s eagle eye on the touchline would be sharper than ever for this match, had decided that discretion was the better part of valour.

I accepted of course, rather jokingly adding that I would need a “nifter” at half-time to sustain me in what was certain to be a very fast and energetic

encounter. I was used to refereeing the rather more easy going 4th and 5th XVs and the mayhem of Leagues.

It was indeed a very energetic encounter between two very equally talented teams. Ironically their talent made for easier refereeing and at half time, drawing breath, I thought I hadn’t done too badly. Then I saw Huddy advancing towards me, not towards his team. This was ominous.

“Crikey! What have I been missing”, was my immediate thought. With a straight and rather stony face he handed me a pocket sized book entitled “The Laws of Rugby Union Football” and said with an equally straight face “Ref, I think you need to look at Law 11.6.(a)”, and stalked off to talk to his team.

Opening the book I found he had cut out the pages and fitted a miniature bottle of brandy in the space thus

provided! A quick swig from Law 11.6.(a) and the match resumed ending with a clear win by Radley, without, hopefully, any bias from the referee, who knows he has done a fair job when thanked by both coaches. Huddy was all smiles and we had no more clashes that term. But I was not invited to referee his XV again and am still wondering if I was bribed!

Photo top corner: The Queen places a stone, one of 255, one for each serviceman killed and brought from the Falkland Islands, on a Memorial Cairn – which follows the Scottish tradition of remembering those who failed to return from battle – as part of commemorations marking the 25th anniversary of the end of the Falklands conflict, at the Falkland Islands Memorial Chapel, Pangbourne, in June, 2007. (Stephen Hird/PA Images) the old radleian 2015

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New Books, CDs & DVDs from ORs New Books, CDs & DVDs from ORs

Irregular Safari

Know Your Enemy

Hugh Aldersey (1945)

Hugh Aldersey (1945)

Authorhouse UK

BookPOD

ISBN-10: 1491885211

ISBN-10: 0994187130

ISBN-13: 978-1491885215

ISBN-13: 978-0994187130

First published as an eBook – now in paperback.

Know Your Enemy is the sequel to Irregular Safari and follows the same family through two world wars and the Great Depression. Renewed terrorist activity, reprisal attacks and political pressure force the sale of the family interests in South Africa and after much difficulty they are able to consolidate back in Britain.

On the outbreak of WWI some of the family are posted to the Western Front. The horrors of trench warfare are experienced (based on a diary written in the trenches by the author’s father.) The countries of Europe were bankrupted by the war and were ill prepared for the start of the depression and the Wall Street crash and were struggling for survival. Hitler manipulated the situation to form the Third Reich with plans to overrun Europe.

Members of the family are involved in many of the lesser known secret facets of WWII such as Mulberry, Knickebein, Armadillo, Pluto, Un Grand Ruse de Guerre and the Quattara Rabbit Run Deception.

An assignment to gather secret information keeps the family au fait with a lot of classified material but causes reprisal attacks from the ‘Enemy Within’ and amazing revelations of traitors operating on the ‘Home Front’. The highly secret preparations for ‘D Day’ and the Normandy landing reach a crisis that requires much skill, improvisation and bravery to resolve.

Hugh Aldersey writes: One of my retirement projects was to write a historical novel based on the recollections of several local families in Cheshire, in the north of England, where my family came from, combined with a lot of research and some personal experiences, which have been transposed in time to suit the period.

Irregular Safari is a credible factfilled historical novel for the mature reader who enjoys plenty of action, real-life characters, suspense, intrigue, gun-battles, and intimate moments.

Hugh Aldersey was educated at Radley and Birkenhead Colleges and worked in heavy engineering prior to going into the British army.

He was commissioned in REME and served in Egypt with British troops, African Colonial troops, and native tradesmen. On leaving the army, he migrated to Australia and has worked in positions which involved a lot of travel. His interests include war history, firearms, photography, travel, farming, and boat building.

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the old radleian 2015

The English Country House Garden: Traditional Retreats to Contemporary Masterpieces

As Far as I Remember: Coming of Age in Post-War England

George Plumptre (1969)

Michael Bawtree (1951)

Frances Lincoln ISBN-10: 0711232997 ISBN-13: 978-0711232990 ... this book will inspire and delight ... the stories of these gardens so compellingly captured by George Plumptre that make the reader stop and tarry awhile, marvelling at the energy, the vision and the passion of the people who created gardens such as Hidcote, Sissinghurst and Great Dixter.

The English Garden impressive Daily Mail a feast of horticulture and of Englishness.

House & Garden ... an elegant new book on the subject is welcome and the author is uniquely qualified to write it ... a thoughtful and engaging guide lyrically photographed by Marcus Harpur ... a seamless, beautifully produced volume.

Kathryn Bradley-Hole Country Life ... sure to become a classic Garden Design Journal

Mereo ISBN-10: 1861513739 ISBN-13: 978-1861513731 Michael Bawtree owes his cultured start in life to the rambling country house hotel his parents owned and managed in the 1950s. What it lacked in income it made up for in style and in the quality of the guests, who included dukes and professors as well as dozens of prominent names from the arts and academia, from C S Lewis and Iris Murdoch to Sir Adrian Boult.

Unsurprisingly, Michael quickly developed a talent for literature, drama and music which eventually, after he had read English Language and Literature at Oxford with Christopher Ricks as his tutor, took him to Canada, where he embarked on a career in the theatre. As Far As I Remember is part 1 of Michael’s story, covering his formative years, from a wartime childhood and years at a rural prep school to an education at Radley College, where a close friendship with Peter Cook, already on the brink of fame as a comedian and satirist, helped to propel him towards a theatrical career. The story of his later life as a prominent actor, playwright and director in Canada will be told in Volume 2.

New Books, CDs & DVDs from ORs

Acts of the Assassins

Poisoned Planet

Legal English

Julian Cribb (1964)

Rupert Haigh (1984)

Harvill Secker

The Song of Songs: Exploring the Divine Romance

Allen & Unwin

Routledge

ISBN-10: 1846558395

Charlie Cleverly (1964)

ISBN-10: 176011046

ISBN-10: 0415712858

Hodder & Stoughton

ISBN-13: 978-1760110468

ISBN-13: 978-0415712859

We want things to be cheap, convenient and useful. Our food arrives contaminated with pesticides and wastes, wrapped in plastic made of hormonedisrupting chemicals. We bathe and dress our children in petrochemicals. Even our coffee contains miniscule traces of arsenic, cup by cup adding to the toxins accumulating in our bodies.

Rupert Haigh is a Cambridge graduate and a qualified solicitor.

He also holds an LLM from Helsinki University and a TEFL certificate.

Rupert moved to Finland in 2000 where he is involved in training legal professionals across Europe.

Richard Beard (1980)

ISBN-13: 978-1846558399 The charismatic leader of a cult has been killed in the Middle East, and one by one his former associates are being horribly murdered. Cassius Marcellus Gallio, a hard-boiled counter-insurgency specialist is on the case, but it is a difficult one. To make things worse the original body has gone missing. It is the aftermath of the Easter story, but not as we know it, recast and scrambled into a contemporary world of aeroplanes, takeaways and CCTV. The disciples’ various martyrdoms were horrible enough to begin with, but they are even more grotesque when considered as crimes in Beard’s police procedural. A few years ago people would have trumpeted this as postmodern: labels aside, it is a darkly funny, virtuoso performance, as convincing as such a bizarre story could be, and so cleverly done it almost winks at the reader.

Phil Baker (Sunday Times)

ISBN-10: 144470205X ISBN-13: 978-1444702057 The Song of Songs is redolent with poetic imagery, featuring as it does the love songs of a man and a woman as they explore their relationship. Down the centuries it has often been interpreted either as a sexually-charged love story or an entirely metaphorical imagining of the relationship between God and his people. In this deeply-felt book Charlie Cleverly argues that both interpretations are critical to a true understanding of this book that lies right at the heart of the Bible. If our relationships with one another and with God are not both fully in tune with our humanity, in all its richness, and with our spirituality in its highest form, then we will fall short of all we can be in our lives.

Drawing on a wide range of sources, literary and theological and across the ages, Charlie Cleverly makes the case for a new, rounded understanding of this important book.

Man-made chemicals are creating a silent epidemic. Our children are sicker; cancer, obesity, allergies and mental health issues are on the rise in adults; and, frighteningly, we may be less intelligent than previous generations.

A poisoned planet is the price we are paying for our lifestyle, but Julian Cribb shows we have the tools to clean it up and create a healthier, safer future for us all.

About the Author: Julian Cribb is a distinguished science writer with more than thirty awards for journalism. He was a newspaper editor, founder of the influential ScienceAlert website and author of eight books, including The Coming Famine.

Sales through Service: Guy Arnold (1977) Crooked Stick Ltd ISBN-10: 0956436110 ISBN-13: 978-0956436115 This book looks at every step of the sales process to show how customers can get consistent and improving experiences, and want to buy more, come back more often, tell their friends and spread the word. So you get more sales for less cost.

the old radleian 2015

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New Books, CDs & DVDs from ORs

Slow Road to Brownsville: A Journey Through the Heart of the Old West

Cobra in the Bath: Adventures in Less Travelled Lands

The Colour of Evening Light

Miles Morland (1957)

Ardachy Publishing

Bloomsbury

ISBN-10: 0992604508

David Reynolds (1962)

ISBN-10: 1408863677

ISBN-13: 978-0992604509

Greystone Books, Canada

ISBN-13: 978-1408863671

ISBN-10: 1771640499 ISBN-13: 978-1771640497 Immensely illuminating and enjoyable account of a road trip along Highway 83. Books like [Reynolds’s] prove that good travel writing remains not only very much alive, but essential.

The Bookseller Reynolds ... rides off, a lone English ranger, into a historical North American hinterland that exists as much in mythical reference as in modern reality. ... Ride shotgun with Reynolds as he pit-stops at diners and gas stations, and detours by way of legendary landmarks, where he reflectively enjoys cracker-barrel wisdom, saloon-bar wit, and goodol country wackiness.

Iain Finlayson, The Times About the Author: David Reynolds was one of the founders of Bloomsbury Publishing and is now a director of Old Street Publishing. Based in London, he is the author of Swan River: A Memoir of a Family Mystery, which was shortlisted for the PEN/Acklerley Prize for Autobiography and Memoir.

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Miles Morland is an adventurer.

He was born in India to a naval father and a dangerously glamorous mother. When his parents divorced, Miles followed his mother to Tehran, which they had to leave in a hurry, and on to Baghdad, which they also had to leave in a hurry after the 1958 revolution. His early years were filled with desert journeys, riots, perilous near-misses, and adventures worthy of Kipling, after which he was sent to England for a ‘proper’ education.

Later, following years of shouting down a Wall Street telephone, Miles threw in his job, bought a giant motorbike and set off to discover things in places others did not want to go. Deported at gunpoint from Romania, saved from assassination in Ethiopia by a lucky plane crash, riding an Enfield Bullet through Ooty and following Che over the Andes – Miles has a knack of finding trouble.

Brilliantly observed and told with unique humour, Cobra in the Bath will have you crying with laughter and scared out of your wits.

the old radleian 2015

Jeremy Fraser (1954)

Jeremy Fraser has worked as a Canadian lumberjack, fine paper exporter, area manager of a brewery, advertisement space salesman, landscape gardener, pig farmer, slightly unorthodox accountant, and a painter of abstracted landscapes.

The book costs £12.05 including UK postage plus another £2 if you would like the DVD of an interview of Field Marshals Harding and Baker re the Cyprus emergency of 1955-8, which is not publicly available. (There is a transcript of the interview in the book, but you’ll miss out on archive footage etc). Send your cheque payable to Rupert Baker to: Gunville House, Monxton Road, Grateley, Andover, SP11 8JQ

The Colour of Evening Light is the story of a beautiful tapestry rescued from a burning French church at the outbreak of war in 1914.

The tapestry becomes a talisman for a young medical officer, John Pearson, when war forces him to give up the woman he loves.

George: A life so well lived

Cuatro Años en las Orcados del Sur

Rupert Baker (1967)

Kenn Back (1955) Co-translator

The story of Rupert’s father, Field Marshal Sir Geoffrey Baker, GCB, CMG, CBE, MC.

Bernard Quaritch

His son, Rupert, writes: I have just published privately a biography of my father, who was a distinguished soldier.

Once breakeven is reached (about 250 copies) all “profits” will go to military charity – do specify one or more if you wish.

ISBN-10: 14 ISBN-13: 978-143 In Cuatro Años en las Orcados del Sur (Four Years in the South Orkneys) the author describes the Argentine expeditions to the South Orkneys in 1923 when he worked as an assistant, in 1925 when he was second in command, and in 1927 and 1929 when he led the expeditions.

New Books, CDs & DVDs from ORs

The Starlight Years: Love & War at Kelmscott Manor 1940-1948

Upstate Cauldron: Eccentric Spiritual Movements in Early New York State

Trading Secrets: Squash Greats Recall Their Toughest Duels

The Pal Effect: A Faroe Islander’s Quest for Swimming Glory

Rod Gilmour (1990)

Rod Gilmour (1990)

Joscelyn Godwin (1958)

Joscelyn Godwin (1958)

Pitch Publishing

Chequered Flag Publishing

The Dovecote Press

Excelsior Editions

ISBN-10: 1785310437

ISBN-10: 099321522X

ISBN-10: 0992915112

ISBN-10: 1438455941

ISBN-13: 978-1785310430

ISBN-13: 978-0993215223

ISBN-13: 978-0992915117

ISBN-13: 978-1438455945

This is the story of how two artists fell in love with each other, with Kelmscott Manor, and with William Morris, the poet, craftsman, and socialist who had made it his home in 1871. During the Second World War, Edward and Stephani ScottSnell (later Godwin) lived in this historic Oxfordshire house as its first permanent tenants after the Morris family.

A guide to the phenomenal crop of prophets, cults, and utopian communities that arose in Upstate New York from 1776 to 1914.

The greatest names in squash describe their most famous matches, the stories behind their success, the legendary training secrets and physical attributes that made them champions. From Pakistani great Azam Khan and the extraordinary story of how he came to Britain, Trading Secrets follows the emergence of Geoff Hunt and Jonah Barrington, two players who took fitness and sporting rivalry to a new level in the 60s and 70s.

Their rivalry ignited the back pages of newspapers across the globe. Trading Secrets also lifts the lid on the stars’ secrets in a sport that is slowly rediscovering its lustre after several decades in the wilderness. Reflecting this popular resurgence, the book looks at the battles of Peter Nicol, Britain’s first world champion, and Canadian magician Jonathon Power before the likes of Nick Matthew and Ramy Ashour recall the matches which have transcended them into modern greats of the game. Their duels have been brought to life with archived reports from squash’s correspondents of the time.

The Faroe Islands, beguiling and mystical in the North Atlantic, have never produced an elite sportsman. Or so British journalist Rod Gilmour thought. Then he discovered swimmer Pal Joensen, medallist at the World and European Championships, whose name has become a byword for success in his country. Pal’s journey was not easy: learning his art in a 12.5 metre pool, trained by coaches working with little support, prevented from competing for his own country in the Olympic Games. But his rise to the swimming elite has given reason for Faroese to believe that victory really is possible: the Pal Effect.

This is a lyrical account of how one man beat the odds and galvanised a nation in 2000.

There they created an aesthetic and erotic paradise based on a fantasy land called ‘Thessyros’, and produced a body of figurative painting unique for its time.

Much of this was done under the influence of a legally-obtained drug they called ‘Starlight’, making many of their paintings early examples of psychedelic art.

What makes The Starlight Years more than just a period memoir is its remarkable honesty. The realities of the Second World War rarely intrude, giving their story an unusual intimacy. The ebb and flow of their relationship is mirrored in their letters and journals, which they wrote consciously as literary art, and have now been selected and explained by their younger son, Joscelyn Godwin.

What a fascinating book! Upstate Cauldron takes a refreshing and new look at the period of time when Upstate New York was the center of the Spiritualist movement in America. Joscelyn Godwin has written a book that is very difficult to put down, introducing us to the most wonderful and exotic individuals. People like Timothy Brown, who built one of the most intricate (and most photographed) homes in Central New York with his own hands and out of his own head.

Can you say ‘spiritual guidance’?

And we meet Kate and Maggie Fox, who may have been America’s earliest rap stars. The fabulous Fox sisters used secret rapping sounds to convince converts that they were communicating with the ‘other world.’ ... These are just some of the sometimes incredible, sometimes bizarre, but always interesting people at the core of Upstate’s Spiritualism history.

Chuck D’Imperio, author of Unknown Museums of Upstate New York: A Guide to 50 Treasures

British journalist Rod Gilmour has been described by The Guardian as a ‘minor sport tub-thumper’. He co-authored James Willstrop’s Shot and a Ghost: A Year in the Brutal World of Professional Squash, which was nominated for the William Hill Sports Book of the Year, the first self-published book to be nominated for the award. He has covered Olympic sports for The Daily Telegraph since 2008.

the old radleian 2015

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New Books, CDs & DVDs from ORs

BetterLife

Sherlock Holmes – The Thinking Engine

World of Water

James Lovegrove (1979)

James Lovegrove (1979)

James Lovegrove (1979)

Christmas Carols: From Village Green to Church Choir

CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform

Titan Books

Solaris

Andrew Gant (1976)

ISBN-10: 1783295031

ISBN-10: 1781083053

Profile Books

ISBN-13: 978-1783295036

ISBN-13: 978-1781083055

ISBN-10: 1781253528

March 1895, and at Oxford University, a Professor Quantock claims he has built a computational device capable of analytical thought to rival Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock cannot ignore the challenge, and he and Watson travel to Oxford, where a battle of wits ensues. But it soon becomes clear that the Thinking Engine has its own agenda. The companions’ lives are on the line as a ghost from the past catches up with them...

The amazing sequel to World of Fire, Dev Harmer has landed in a new body on a new planet.

ISBN-10: 150560933X ISBN-13: 978-1781253526 From the New York Times bestselling author of Days, Provender Gleed and the Pantheon series comes a darkly comic near-future satire about fate, fame, and reality TV. Luke Fallon and his twin brother Johnny are opposite sides of the same coin, the one a grafter with a sense of responsibility, the other a grifter selling contraband on the street.

When Luke wins a coveted place on the insanely popular game show BetterLife, he agrees to take part only because it will save Johnny from the wrath of the gangster boss he has swindled. But BetterLife is a poisoned chalice, the prizes as lucrative as the games involved are dangerous. With every round of the competition Luke gets through, the stakes rise. So does the threat to Johnny, despite the presence of newly acquired personal bodyguard Augustine Trebuchet. In a world where luck has become a religion, both Luke and Johnny will discover that for every winner there has to be a loser and, for every victory, a sacrifice.

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ISBN-13: 978-1781253526

the old radleian 2015

Dev Harmer, reluctant agent of Interstellar Security Solutions, has travelled to ocean world Robinson D, nicknamed Triton.

Here settlements belonging to the Terran Diaspora have been coming under attack by members of the planet’s subaquatic indigenous race. ISS suspects the involvement of an agent provocateur working for humankind’s galactic rivals, the artificial intelligence civilisation known as Polis+.

As the violence escalates, Dev finds himself battling to restore order, and it is a race against time. He has only seventy-two hours before his genetically engineered host form breaks down irreversibly. And an ancient god-beast is rising from the depths to usher in an apocalypse...

Here’s something to set you singing this Christmas – a history of twenty odd carols in a beautiful hardback edition. The publication of the book coincides with the release of his new CD Christmas Carols – From Village Green to Church Choir.

Everyone loves a carol – in the end, even Scrooge. They have the power to summon up a special kind of midwinter mood, like the aroma of mince pies and mulled wine and the twinkle of lights on a tree. It’s a kind of magic. But how did they get that magic? In Christmas Carols Andrew Gant tells the story of some 20 carols, each accompanied by lyrics and music, unravelling a captivating – and often surprising – tale of great musicians and thinkers, saints and pagans, shepherd boys, choirboys, monks and drunks. We delve into the history of such favourites as Good King Wenceslas , Away in a Manger and The Twelve Days of Christmas, discovering along the way how Hark, the Herald Angels Sing came to replace Hark, how all the welkin ring and how Ralph Vaughan Williams bolted the tune of an English folk song about a dead ox to a poem by a nineteenth-century American pilgrim to make O little town of Bethlehem. Christmas Carols brims is a fittingly joyous account of one of our best-loved musical traditions.

New Books, CDs & DVDs from ORs

CDs

Christmas Carols – From Village Green to Church Choir

Fauré Requiem – (The Choir of King’s College, Cambridge)

Oculi Omnium – Schola Cantorum

The Cole Porter Songbook

Vox Turturis

Oliver Wilson (1988, Viola – Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment)

James Burton (1988, Conductor)

Sarah Fox and James Burton (1988)

Multigram Records Download

Signum Classics

ASIN: B

ASIN: B00U6ASTAW

Recorded in the beautiful acoustics of Merton College Chapel, Oculi Omnium is a brand new recording

by Schola Cantorum of Oxford which celebrates Oxford’s rich choral heritage. Conducted by James Burton, the new CD features Stanford’s Latin Magnificat, Howells’ Take him, Earth, for Cherishing and works by composers associated with Oxford’s choral tradition, including Gibbons, Sheppard, Weelkes, Parry, Walton, Tippett, and recent works by Tarik O’Regan, James MacMillan and James Burton.

British soprano Sarah Fox makes her solo recording debut with songs by Broadway songwriting legend Cole Porter. Accompanied by pianist and arranger James Burton, highlights include In the Still of the Night from Rosalie; I’ve got you Under My Skin from Born to Dance, and I get a Kick out of You from Anything Goes.

Andrew Gant (1976, Conductor) Signum Classics

King’s College Cambridge

ASIN: B00LH199W6

ASIN: B00L5J4Q5K

A new album bringing classic carols to life under the expert direction of conductor and author Andrew Gant,

Reviews:

Reviews: The recording debut of Gant’s youthful professional choir is a spirited one, encompassing both the popular folksy carols (The Holly and the Ivy, I Saw Three Ships, The Twelve Days of Christmas) and some fine “church” carols in unfamiliar guises: In dulci jubilo sung in a Latin/German version, and Adeste fideles entirely in Latin. Especially delightful is Gant’s medley arrangement of A Merry Christmas, incorporating snatches of Deck the Halls, Ding Dong Merrily on High and Away in a Manger.

Sunday Times another well-planned and splendidly performed CD, eminently recommendable Robert Matthew Walker International Record Review

The viola-led OAE offers superb support throughout and the baritone Gerald Finley is at his most tonally liquid, with tenaciously sensitive phrasing … The trebles are on top form in the short Messe Basse of 1881, and the Cantique de Jean Racine (with organ accompaniment only) makes a satisfying adjunct to this fascinating disk.

Malcom Riley Gramophone All the ingredients here are perfect, and so are the results. With expertise like Stephen Cleobury and his choir on hand, how could it be anything else? They bring grace and elegiac beauty to one of Fauré’s crowning achievements – lucky us for getting to eavesdrop.

Classic FM

About the Author: Andrew Gant is a composer, choirmaster, church musician, university teacher and writer. He has directed many leading choirs including The Guards’ Chapel, Worcester College Oxford, and Her Majesty’s Chapel Royal. He lectures in Music at St Peter’s College Oxford, and he lives in Oxford with his wife and their three children. the old radleian 2015

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Radley 2nd VIII at Sandford in 1914 – Sandford Mill, on the other side of the river, is in the background 46

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The 1914 Radley 2nd VIII at Sandford – they seem to have been for a swim. This group of photographs was found on eBay and purchased for the Radley Archives. They came from an album of William Howell Buckley who was at Radley from 1910 to 1914. He rowed in the 1st VIII in 1913 and the 2nd VIII in his last year, 1914.

These photographs may all have been taken when the Radley and Shrewsbury 2nd VIIIs raced at Radley in June 1914 from the Lasher to the Island.

The Radleian July 1914: The 2nd VIII has been made up as follows : Bow, M. H. Garrard; 2, J. B. Le Gros; 3, W. L. Phillips; 4, W. H. Buckley; 5, C. W. King; 6, C. H. B. Slocock ; 7, H. J. Hayman-Joyce; Str., C. B. E. Lloyd; Cox, A. H. O. Riddell.

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This was an unsatisfactory race in which the chief honours went to the losers. Shrewsbury had the misfortune to lose a man on the morning of the race, and preferred rowing with seven men to accepting a substitute. At the start they were level for a few strokes, but the boats came very close together and Radley had to give way. Shrewsbury then rushed away to a length’s lead, which they retained till near the bridge. Radley then began to draw up, and passing under the bridge the two crews were level. Radley then came right away and won by a bare length. Shrewsbury are much to be congratulated on the fine race they put up. The honours gained by the Radley crew went almost entirely to Lloyd, who had to hammer at a nervous and unresponsive crew for nearly all the course, and at last got them together for the sprint home. The rest of the crew seemed paralysed by the occasion, and rowed much below their best form. From the bridge to the finish they pulled themselves together and went quite well. But the circumstances were so unusual that some allowance should be made. Buckley and Hayman-Joyce worked hard, but King and Slocock were disappointing. The rest tried to do their duty but lost their heads.

The steering of neither boat was perfect.

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Above: Shrewsbury with only seven oarsmen lead Radley as the crews approach Black Bridge Below: Radley take the lead above the bridge

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More photographs from W. H. Buckley’s album

Above: The Social Bumping Races – the crews heading towards Sandford Lock Below: The crews at Sandford Lock after the finish

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The OTC Camp, probably in 1912. During the First World War approximately 1,200 Old Radleians, masters and staff joined the fighting forces.

219 ORs, 7 masters and 8 staff (almost 20% of those who served) lost their lives. Over 250 decorations were won.

The Radley 1st VIII racing at Henley in 1913

W. H. Buckley’s obituary in The Radleian: Buckley. On 5th April 1981 at St. Clears, Dyfed, William Howell Buckley (Simpkinson’s D 1910-14). He was in the Eight. During the First War he got a regular commission in the Inniskilling Dragoons and was wounded in France. He was Founder and Master of the Bangalore Hunt, and was later Master of the

Carmarthenshire Fox Hounds and the Tivyside Fox Hounds.

He was president and former chairman of Buckleys Brewery, Llanelli. During the Second War he was a lieutenant colonel and Deputy Provost Marshal in South Palestine, Malta and Western Command. He was a deputy Lieutenant and former High Sheriff of Carmarthenshire. His brother and his son were also at Radley. the old radleian 2015

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Received with thanks

From Christopher Macakarness (1964) pictures from the album of of his grandfather, C. G. N. Mackarness (1907) including this one entitled Whitsunday 1911 – Out of Bounds and smoking; not so good!

Left to Right: G. S. Hodgkinson, J. M. L. Vernon, L. G. Hill, G. C. N. Mackarness and L. Curteis – a group taken in Radley Wood.

From the Radley Archives: In May 1914, Reggie Marix (OR, 1905) was the pilot of the first aeroplane to land on the pitches. In October 1914 he was the first to destroy a Zeppelin by bombing its shed at Dusseldorf from a very low height for which he was awarded a DSO. 52

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From Dr Jeremy Kirk (not an OR – he bought them at an auction in Birmingham about ten years ago) sketches by Douglas Chandor who was at Radley from 1910 to 1915.

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From Boyd’s History of Radley 1907 A Carpenter’s Shop was built outside the Prefects’ Study – a much needed but unlovely erection, which incidentally blotted out a pleasant corner of old Radley. Is the Carpenter’s Shop the building on the left?

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Douglas Chandor (right) working on his portrait of Winston Churchill

Douglas Chandor became one of the best portrait painters of his generation. The portrait of Churchill was part of a project, commissioned by President Roosevelt and confirmed by President Truman, for the artist to portray the principals of the Yalta Conference where Churchill, Roosevelt and Stalin met to discuss the postwar reorganisation of Europe. Douglas Chandor had painted sketches of President Roosevelt in 1945, shortly before the President’s death, and planned to paint Josef Stalin in Moscow. Sadly Stalin refused to sit for the portrait and sent photographs which the artist did not think were suitable, so the project was abandoned.

When Douglas Chandor was painting Churchill it was reported: Churchill rose from his chair and stepped over to inspect Chandor’s work. “I think you might cut me in here at the waist a bit.” Then as though to make certain it was done, Churchill, an accomplished artist, seized a paintbrush and whittled down his painted girth.

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His portrait of Kitty Wharton (a Radley Don for 60 years) hangs in Hall.

Douglas Chandor’s final commission, from Eleanor Roosevelt, was to paint the Queen. Douglas and his wife travelled to London in 1952. The portrait was completed in eight hour-long sittings in Buckingham Palace. Chandor discovered he had the perfect sitter, standing for me as long as I wished with soldierly self-discipline and sitting as well as a sphinx when I worked on the face. He told Life Magazine: The Queen is an infinitely more beautiful woman than any photograph has ever shown, and when she smiles there is a radiance such as I have seldom seen in any face. The portrait hangs in the British Embassy in Washington DC. On January 13, 1953, two weeks after returning to the United States from London, Douglas Chandor died of a cerebral haemorrhage.

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SIR WINSTON CHURCHILL by Douglas Granville Chandor Oil on canvas, 1946 National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution; gift of Bernard Mannes Baruch, 1960, NPG.65.76 the old radleian 2015

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Above: President Franklin D. Roosevelt by Douglas Chandor Oil on canvas, 1945 National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution NPG.68.49 58

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Right: Douglas Chandor’s portrait of Eleanor Roosevelt, wife of President Franklin D. Roosevelt, is believed to be the only one for which she posed formally – she inscribed the painting “A trial made pleasant by the painter”.

The painting hangs in the White House.

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Purchased by Radley after it was spotted at a local dealer by Bob Ely (1944): Etching of Cricket at Radley College, 1891 by Fred Hunter after a drawing by FP Barraud.

Published by Dickinson and Foster.

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Gazette Some Radley Events of the last year

In June the portrait (above) of Sir Andrew Motion by Fiona Graham-Mackay was unveiled in the Sewell Centre Gallery.

The portrait featured in a Radio 4 documentary in December and was later purchased by the College.

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Sir Andrew Motion (1966) and the artist Fiona Graham-Mackay unveil the portrait in June

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Above: Peter Way (1936, Common Room 1952-1983. Tutor of A Social 1963-1973) with the poet he inspired, Andrew Motion Below left: The artist Fiona Graham-Mackay talks about her portraits Below right: Andrew Motion

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Above: Two Wardens – John Moule, the current Warden talks to Dennis Silk (Warden 1968-1991) at Anthony Hudson’s Thanksgiving Service at Pangbourne in April. Below: Radley from the quadcopter

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Gazette The Vyvyan Hope Lunch

Above and below: drinks in Clock Tower Court

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Above: Michael Jenkins with Hamish Aird Below: Lunch in the Mansion

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Gazette The Opening of the Rowing Tank

Above: The Rowing Tank, named in honour of Jock Mullard, was opened in September.

Below: A demonstration by the Radley Senior Squad

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Above: The Nye crew in action Below: Son and father try the tank – Charlie (1st VIII 2011 & 2012) and Simon Shaw (1st VIII 1982 & 1983)

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Above: Most of the 1974 Radley 1st VIII try out the tank – Nigel Burgess, Duncan Dunbar Nasmith, Tom Barry (subbing for Mark Hill), Tom Durie, Henry Arden, William Woodward-Fisher, David Henderson, Robin Waterer Below: The 1974 crew on the river with Hazel Gearing (coxing for Guy Henderson)

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Wardens of Radley

Numbers at Radley

The Rev. R. C. Singleton (Founder)

1847-1851

1940 367

The Rev. W. B. Heathcote

1851-1852

1945 398

The Rev. W. Sewell (Founder)

1853-1861

1950 419

The Very Rev. R. W. Norman

1861-1866

1955 436

The Rev. W. Wood

1866-1870

1960 470

The Rev. C. Martin

1871-1879

1965 484

The Rev. R. J. Wilson

1880-1888

1970 474

The Rev. H. L. Thompson

1889-1896

1975 528

The Rev. T. Field

1897-1913

1980 585

The Very Rev. E. G. Selwyn

1913-1918

1985 587

The Rev. Canon A. Fox

1918-1924

1990 613

The Rev. Canon W. H. Ferguson

1925-1937

1995 616

The Rev. J. C. Vaughan Wilkes

1937-1954

2000 629

W. M. M. Milligan, MBE

1954-1968

2005 629

D. R. W. Silk, CBE

1968-1991

2010 678

R. M. Morgan

1991-2000

A. W. McPhail

2000-2014

2014 688

J. S. Moule

2014-

2015 689

2013 682

Socials A

Ryder’s (2008), Rathbone’s (2003), Wesson’s (1995), Nye’s (1991), Johnson’s (1984), Pound’s (1973), Way’s (1963), Stewart-Morgan’s (1951), Paton’s (1936), Macpherson’s (1915), Vidal’s (1914), Wharton’s (1879)

B

Scott-Malden’s (2015), Greed’s (2003), Holroyd’s (1993), Spens’s (1984), Dowding’s (1973), Langdale’s (1968), Fisher’s (1953), Eason’s (1938), Nugee’s (1924), Stone’s (1895), Titherington’s (1891), Vincent’s (1879)

C

Sparks’s (2006), Shaw’s (2004), Jones’s (1996), Derham’s (1990), Featherstone’s (1984), LeRoy’s (1978), Morgan’s (1969), Batten’s (1964), Thompson’s (1950), Cocks’s (1935), Hellard’s (1924), Barmby’s (1909), Evans’s (1879)

D

Crump’s (2011), Holden’s (2000), Bamforth’s (1996), Wylie’s (1985), Hirst’s (1978), Flint’s (1971), Stuart’s (1960), Gardiner’s (1945), Watkins’s (1937), Stevenson’s (1916), Pott’s (1915), Simpkinson’s (1895), Raikes’s (1879)

E

Lawson’s (2012), King’s (2008), Beasley’s (2003), Hopkins’s (1989), Aird’s (1974), Goldsmith’s (1958), Llewellyn Jones’s (1948), Hope’s (1926), Newman’s (1921), Moss-Blundell’s (1918), Birt’s (1914), Kirkby’s (1879)

F

McChesney’s (2004), Davenport’s (1994), Hastings’s (1985), Hudson’s (1970), Taylor’s (1965), Crowson’s (1950), Southam’s (1938), Hedgecock’s (1919), Davies’s (1911-1915), Croome’s (1892), Orlebar’s (1889), Hobson’s (1887), Dalton’s (1879)

G

Jackson’s (2011), Matthews’s (2010), Hammond’s (1998), Gamble’s (1993), Waller’s (1988), Doulton’s (1979), Stoughton-Harris’s (1967), King’s (1953), Morgan’s (1936), Boyd’s (1930), Wilson-Green’s (1919), Bryans’s (1884), Kindersley’s (1882), Horsburgh’s (1881)

H

May’s (2012), Edwards’s (2001), Barker’s (1989), Usherwood’s (1974), Birks’s (1962), Waye’s (1948), Brown’s (1945), Smale’s (1919-1940), Lowe’s (1909)

J

Langton’s (2013), Hindley’s (2008)

K

Lee’s (2015), Murphy’s (2008)

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Letters Letters

The Old Radleian From Robin Phipps (1948):

Birthday Card

I was most ‘touched’ to receive my birthday card on my attaining 80 years.

I have always been immensely proud of Radley (instilled in me by my father) for its achievements and for what it stands for.

At College, I regret that I did not take full advantage of all the opportunities that were available. My Social Tutor, LlewellynJones in one of his reports stated that ‘Robin seems to go into semi hibernation in October, only emerging in May at the commencement of the cricket season.’

My great joy was always sport, especially cricket to the detriment of all else.

In the 2013 edition of The Old Radleian, I was amused to read Philip Burton’s reminiscences as they coincided with mine a year earlier. In one house match I managed to ‘caught and bowl’ Chris Walton, off a full toss. Bert Robinson, the umpire, turned to me and said ‘ You are going to reget that.’ Next man in, Dexter, then scored 150 without a glimmer of a chance. However next year I played for the Rangers and Dexter, captain of the 1st XI, called me ‘sir’ and carried my bags. Almost made up for the 150.

I also remember playing against Aldworth.

On this occasion the cows were already removed, but had left their ecological contribution on the outfield. On fielding in the deep it was with care that I collected the ball ‘twixt’ finger and thumb and gingerly returned it to the unsuspecting and unfortunate wicket keeper (A. R. W. Eve, 1948) who received ball and attached ‘offering’ to all his teammates’, but not his own, amusement. Perhaps we enjoyed our sport more at a lower level? Please forgive my ramblings, but the excellent Radley magazines always bring back a host of memories.

From Michael Wetherfield (1946)

Charles Wrinch (and other Dons) With reference to previous correspondence on Charles Wrinch’s renderings of Moscow at the Dons’ Plays – the performances were quite unforgettable, even if the words in 72

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some cases seem not to have been! I can add my recollections to those of Peter Waterfield (The Old Radleian 2014, p.82).

I know that when Molotov was superseded by the notorious “state trials” prosecutor Vyshinsky in the Soviet hierarchy (in 1949?), the line “Did we care ajotski? We did notski” was superseded by “Did we care a pinski for Vyshinsky?” followed as before by “No, not we”. Also, the last lines of the song (the appearance of Olga’ s husband) I remember as: “Then he made a noise like two bulls, Demanded fifty thousand roubles – (Fifty thousand roubles? English money – eighteen pence!)”. I think it was “fifty”, not “twenty” thousand (but have no idea what the exchange rate was in those days, or if it was relevant)!

Charles Wrinch taught me English and Latin, as a member of his Vth form, in the year leading up to taking School Certificate in 1948. I think everyone he taught would agree that no lesson which he gave could ever have been called “dull”! Latin was very much my least favourite subject, but he must have got through to me, as I somehow achieved a ‘Distinction’ . I think he also taught me Greek (or possibly not) for just one yearthe School Certificate exam requirements were such that one only had to perform satisfactorily in the Translation Exam (from Greek into English, with the aid of a Lexicon which one was permitted to take into the Exam) to achieve a ‘Pass’ (which reflected credit on the school, if not on oneself). One advantage of being taught Greek was that one thereby learnt the Greek alphabet, without which mathematical formulae and diagrams could hardly exist!

Charles Wrinch’s English lessons were rather circumscribed by the requirements of the syllabus, as to all intents and purposes the only English poets considered of note seemed to be Shakespeare and Chaucer (The Nun’s Priest’s Tale, I think); but he did recommend books to read- one of these being J. B. Priestley’s Bright Day (he pointed out that the title derived from a line in Macbeth); I duly read it, and was encouraged to go on to read Priestley’s Angel Pavement.

I had, before taking School Certificate, decided to specialise in Maths thereafter. I was rather surprised when Warden Wilkes accosted me one day and almost beseeched me to change my mind and “do” Classics; I had, very politely, to “stick to my guns”. In the Maths Remove I was

privileged to be well taught by Patrick Mermagen (who went on to be headmaster of Ipswich School); he ensured that I would sit the Scholarship Exam for his old college – Pembroke, Cambridge. After Mermagen left, Maths teaching in the 6th form was in the capable hands of Nick Eyres and L. P. E. Taylor (the latter was the son of a Bishop, and seemed to radiate goodness and gentleness).

English Poetry was opened up for me after School Certificate by Cedric Borgnis (supplier of all the music for the Dons’ Plays), who taught English as one of the required “Non-Spec” subjects for those taking Maths and Physics at Higher Certificate level. He introduced us to Wordsworth’s Resolution and Independence (the poem parodied by Lewis Carroll as The White Knight’s Song – “I met an aged aged man ...”), Keats’s ‘Nightingale Ode’, and also (I think; it might have been Paul Crowson) to Dylan Thomas’s “The Force that drives the Green Fuse ...” To “Ceddie” I owe much thanks; I also recall that he was the first Radley Don whose ‘Music Appreciation’ class I attended, when, in my first term at Radley, he played his own records of Elgar’s Enigma Variations to us in his room at the top of the Mansion (later on Standish Lester took on this role, using the Gramophone Society’s records, played on their equipment on the ground floor of the Mansion – my large CD collection bears witness to the value I placed on these sessions).

From David Holland (1946)

Charles Wrinch and the Dons’ Plays I am writing to settle some questions arising from your correspondence columns on the subject of Charles Wrinch’s famous theme song Himazas, enjoyed by all of us in the late Forties, and the highlight of the Michaelmas Term at that time. The Dons’ Plays did of course have other stars – who will ever forget Tiny Southam’s pantomime dames, or maybe as a grotesque matron of heroic proportions?! As an amateur musician (taught clarinet by Mr. Goater for the CCF marching band), I became involved in organising an annual music hall for charity, acting as impresario, band-leader and arranger, and over the years I acquired a library of music hall material and comic songs, one of which

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included the words and music of the song Himazas by Fred Austin. In answer to your correspondents Martin Blake and Robert Stock, I can quote my copy of the chorus from this album, which goes: I’m going back to Himazas, never again to roam.

I’m jogging along and humming a song – a day’s march nearer home.

There’s a cottage so neat at the top of the street, and it’s numbered ninety-four, so ...

I’m going back to Himazas, him as ’as the pub next door.

Meanwhile I must congratulate Robert Stock on his feat of remembering the words of Moscow and the Guinea-pig song.

These are indeed treasured memories.

his love of drama and teaching he was able to bring the play to life, and I didn’t want to leave the classical side. One of the other boys was Michael Bawtree who went on to write for the marionette theatre and a subsequent Canadian career in drama.

Much was owed in those days to a fine scholar-schoolmaster.

A further memory of Charles Wrinch who was so much more than a witty versifier.

My experience of him began when as an Entrance Scholar aged 12 I found myself in his Greek text class of boys a couple of years my senior. Our author was Aeschylus, whose language is notoriously high-flown, which my prep-school Greek did little to penetrate, and I knew nothing of ‘cribs’’ to assist my preparation. But with

The article also mentions that three Kent boys came to Radley in the summer of 1929 and one of them (John H. Jackson) shared study in Nugee’s social with my father for a year, subsequently rowing in the Yale VIII.

From John Scott (1948)

Derrick Ashcroft

He was a ball of fire. He should have been a Headmaster – as long as the Governors were strong and wise.

From Jonathan Haw (1958)

Kent School From The Revd. Renatus Kempthorne (1952)

angle to the rowlock (“through the work”) unlike much shorter slides then in use at Radley.

I was interested to read the item in the last The Radleian. The article mentions that the 1st VIII raced the Kent School VIII over the Nuneham stretch in May 1927.

Afterwards I think that the Kent crew must have disembarked at the Evans Boat house (does it still exist?), which was by the top of the Island and I think only used by the 1st VIII. Some younger boys were tasked with rowing the Kent boat up to the main boathouses (to be shipped away) and my father (D. S. Haw B, 1927) was one of them and remembered that they were amazed how long the Americans’ slides were, coming well forward of the right-

From John Fawcett, CMG (1942)

Octagons

After an erudite explanation of the properties of octagons and how their patterns may be used in floors, John Fawcett, former Ambassador to Bulgaria, told this story: In Sofia I had a highly intellectual butler, Konstantin, the dead Balkan spit of Jeeves.

One day he brought in some red wine glasses on an octagonal silver tray.

“Konstantin” I said, “I see curious patterns forming between these glasses and this tray but I do not understand them. Can you help me?”

“No, Your Excellency; but if Your Excellency were to apply his mind to the matter I feel sure that a solution would emerge.”

It did.

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Lusimus From Dr Tim Voelcker (1946)

The River

The piece in this month’s Lusimus about Charlie Merton and James Newton rowing from Radley to Westminster to raise funds for the Brain Tumour Charity and a plethora of reports of other OR achievements afloat on the Thames and elsewhere, made me wonder whether the tale of another Thames row five years ago of no distinction and for no good cause would provide a degree of balance to such splendid worthy ventures. But you may feel that rowing anyway has had sufficient coverage for the moment.

As you will see from the attached piece, Martin Bartlett (1949) and I (1946) in 2010 joined with a local friend to follow the reverse course of Three Men in a Boat downstream from Oxford to Waltonon-Thames in a similar boat. We had both gone on from Radley to row at Peterhouse, he with great success in a winning college Ladies Plate crew and a successful Blue Boat, I more modestly in the Henley Thames Cup quarter-finals three years earlier.

We were simply determined not to be outdone by my son and his two friends who had preceded us on the same trip the year before. This year the same trio have canoed from Fort William to Inverness on what has become for them a well-varied annual jaunt, but we have no intention of following suit – age is beginning to tell.

The Long Distance Thames River Race for Coxed Double Scull Course: Oxford (nearly) to London (nearly) – Distance: 83 miles Date: May, 2010 Craft: 100 year-old Traditional Thames Clinker Skiff Crew: Martin Bartlett (1949), Tim Voelcker (1946) , The Third Man (He performed admirably even without the benefit of Radley coaching. He is, however, an experienced volunteer ferryman, who rows occasional foot passengers and cyclists in the summer months nearly fifty yards across Suffolk’s Butley River (depending on the height of the tide).

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I should make clear at the start that this was a race not against other crews but against Time: time to complete the course in the six days permissible under the boat hire, and time to do the trip before age had struck our joints and sinews even more severely than at present (average age of crew then 74 years). It was also a little unusual in conventional rowing terms in that the crew rotated positions approximately every 45 minutes, slightly perilously since Thames skiffs though more accessible than a shell seemed less stable than a tub pair. But perhaps that was the effect of age also. The timing of this change-round varied slightly; when Bartlett was stroking he found it difficult to think in terms of rowing longer than the time for the Henley course, although occasionally his memory switched to the University Boat Race and spurred him on for longer. The changes tended to take place at the periodic locks that Nature and Man had combined to place as obstacles along the course.

We wisely travelled lighter than our three predecessors reported in 1889, for none of us were keen on the idea of camping.

Thames skiffs have canvas covers, to be drawn down over metal hoops from their resting position as mini sunshades; theoretically one man could sleep inside while the other two enjoyed the luxury of a tent. Voelcker’s son and two friends had proved this still to be possible the previous year but it seemed to require a considerable quantity of alcohol to achieve a modest degree of comfort and we felt that this would be economically inadvisable in these harsh times. It had also appeared to leave them the next day in a condition that was not ideal for rowing.

Instead, we played our master stroke – Recruitment of a Back-up Crew.

Three attractive ladies were enrolled, all brilliant cooks, careful drivers and safely married (to members of the crew). A distinguished but amiable Judge of the Appeal Court lent us his splendid establishment in the hills above Pangbourne that masqueraded under the name of ‘Cottage’, complete with wellstocked circular cellar. Fortunately the latter proved unnecessary as Voelcker had sufficient left over from his previous occupation as a wine merchant to see us through any reasonable period.

Pangbourne lies in the middle of a great loop of the river so it was never too great

a distance for the duty driver to collect us when the magic of the mobile phone had indicated where she should come and to drop us back the next day after a leisurely and bountiful breakfast. One of the two cars had GPS but we were not convinced that this was always better than conventional map reading, especially at Bray where the lock at which we had left the boat was virtually an island and neither car was fitted with floats. With a good map of the river and the friendly lock-keeper’s detailed instructions we found a pedestrian route using a walkway right alongside a busy part of the M4, adding another interesting experience to our voyage.

The river was a world of its own. Even passing towns like Reading and Windsor it retained its greenness and relative peace. Little islands lured us into muddy shallows with fallen trees. Clusters of houses occurred but not too often and anyway the Third Man was an architect and could enlighten us on some of the historic or exotic constructions. Grebes popped their heads above the water at frequent intervals, there was the flash of a kingfisher and Bartlett, our bird expert, would stop rowing for a moment without warning to identify the breed of the ‘little brown job’ that we lesser mortals had spotted on a branch. Cameras were used with varying degrees of success. Every so often we came across a rowing club, easily identified by the fleets of outboardengined coaching catamarans moored alongside. Early on we stopped at the Radley boathouse where both Bartlett and Voelcker had learnt to row in rather simpler surroundings than the palatial buildings and trailerfuls of eights that we saw now. Later we had an interesting short contest with an evidently novice quadruple sculls which was more or less a draw. Of other skiffs or oared pleasure boats there were none; just a few narrow boats venturing from the canals, and motor boats – from home-builds to gin palaces, with varying degrees of wash.

About one in ten cried: “Where’s the dog?”

Little did they know that Voelcker had an eight-month old Jack Russell called Bronte (because she had some Yorkshire terrier in her) that would have admirably filled the role of Montmorency. But Bartlett had two Springer Spaniels which might have been a bit much. So on grounds of Equality of Opportunity, there was a No Dogs Order.

The Third Man was relieved.

Letters

We had been very unsure of the speed which we would be able to maintain.

For this reason we had hired the boat for six rather than five days, reckoning that we might well lose a day to bad weather. We had the example of the original Three Men catching the train home from Pangbourne rather than face the continuing rain. But the Devil looked after his own and we had fine May weather the whole trip, not too hot and yet not much adverse wind as the river twisted its way towards Waltonon-Thames where the boat was to be left on Saturday afternoon. Heavy rain the previous week had helped the current to about 1 knot and we claimed about 4 knots of speed through the water, especially as the familiar rhythm came back. So with stoppages for locks and lunch we averaged about 17 land miles per day. For maps, we had a downloaded current Thames chart called the Beer Map, produced by last year’s crew in 15 double-sided waterproof sheets, and a facsimile print of The Oarsmen and Anglers’ Map of the Thames, published in 1893, 10 ft. long and folded concertina fashion. These were entrusted to the coxswain at the time, though Voelcker claimed overall Passage Planning duties because of his naval connections. The main task was to find somewhere to leave the boat safely overnight within the right distance, and somewhere for lunch. The pattern of the first was: Riverside Pub, Riverbank mooring astern of friendly motorboat staying there overnight, Boat hirer’s mooring at Henley boatyard, Bray Lock-keeper’s garden under low-growing willow tree which left its generous contribution, and an expensive marina near Staines on the last night as we were getting a little desperate. Lunches varied from the peak of home-made meat pies and a range of six unknown smallbrewery draught beers in the Carpenters’ Arms at Windsor to plastic prawns in a chain pub by Wallingford Bridge.

Our great speed enabled us to reach our Walton destination by 1 pm on the Saturday, then help load the boat on a trailer and find our way to the excellent Weir pub by the river above Sunbury, where the whole party had a celebratory lunch. Our specially bought rowing gloves (£10 a pair) had prevented any blisters and fixed seats had not caused problems at the other end of the anatomy so the oarsmen were in good heart and

the Back-up Crew had enjoyed their cultural visits to museums and galleries while we were on the water. We feel we can call it a victory.

Who is the Radley (house) master mentioned here?

From the obituary in The Daily Telegraph (22 May 2015) of Professor Raymond Gosling, DNA scientist: Self-effacing scientist who took the vital X-ray photograph that unlocked the puzzle of DNA Professor Raymond Gosling, who has died aged 88, was the often overlooked fifth person in the story of the discovery of the double helix structure of DNA – the key to the secret of life.

Naples. The more famous “Photograph 51” was taken in May 1952 and is usually described as Rosalind Franklin’s. That, too, however, was taken by Gosling... ...Gosling had been a good oarsman as a young man. He had rowed for UCL at Henley and continued to enjoy annual visits to the regatta.

For many years he took his family on an annual summer holiday to a nudist colony in the dunes outside Bordeaux, where he was once spotted discussing the finer points of rowing with an (unnamed) housemaster at Radley and his wife, all of them stark naked.

His wife and sons survive him.

Professor Raymond Gosling, born July 15 1926, died May 18 2015

The names most commonly associated with the discovery are Francis Crick and James Watson of Cambridge University, who shared the 1962 Nobel Prize in Physiology and Medicine with Maurice Wilkins of King’s College London. But other researchers provided the crucial data that Crick and Watson needed to make the imaginative leap to complete the big picture.

Later attention would focus on Wilkins’s colleague at King’s, Rosalind Franklin, who suffered as a result of the male chauvinism of the 1950s and died too soon to win a share in the Nobel prize. It was her skill in X-ray crystallography that led to “Photograph 51”, the image that gave Crick and Watson the decisive clue to the dimensions and angles of the DNA molecule that led the Cambridge pair to make their famous model of the double helix.

There is no doubt that Rosalind Franklin’s role was important, but her posthumously acquired status as a feminist icon obscured the fact that it was actually Gosling who took the vital X-ray photographs which proved to be the key in unlocking the puzzle.

A graduate student at the time, it was he, supervised by Maurice Wilkins, who in 1950 first took an X-ray photograph of a DNA fibre – the picture that inspired the young James Watson when he saw it presented by Wilkins at a conference in the old radleian 2015

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Atkinson On 2.2.2015 George Anthony Atkinson, OBE (c, 1929-1933).

The address at his service: Some people here may only have known George for the past thirty to forty years, which was really just a fraction of his long life; he did after all live for very nearly a century. I therefore thought it would be of interest to share something of his earlier years, starting with his birth in 1915.

George was born in Lowestoft, where his father ‘Nat’, came from a great sea-faring family and worked as a marine naturalist researching and advising the fishing industry. George’s Scottish born mother Jean was a teacher. George remembered her selling kippers to local institutions to supplement the family income. This early introduction to fish led to a life-long love of dining on fish and in a very recent discussion, George still talked of the vast ‘Plat de Fruits de Mer’ that he ate on his last trip to Paris.

George grew up in Lowestoft with his younger twin brothers, John and Fello.

He had very fond and vivid recollections of the various houses in which his family lived. His education started at Miss Rose’s Kindergarten, followed by South Lodge Prep School as a weekly boarder, alongside Benjamin Britten. At the end of each week, he would catch the tram back home.

George won a scholarship to Radley College, which he attended as a boarder.

He recalled that since his parents were not wealthy, he was unable to play racket ball or row at the Henley Regatta, but instead he played rugby in the winter and rowed skiffs in the summer. George was in the top set for maths but being unable to get a Maths scholarship to Cambridge, his Maths helped him gain a scholarship to study architecture and town planning at the Bartlett School of Architecture, a faculty of University College London.

Ever the enthusiastic scholar, during his ‘spare time’ George studied civil engineering and land surveying at Regent Street Polytechnic. He lived at Connaught House where he met his life-long friend, Herald Goddard. When his brother, Fello, came to study at UCL, they lived together in lodgings in Bloomsbury. George always enjoyed good food and vividly recalled that the refectory at Bartlett College was expensive and not very good. So in the lunch break, he would walk to restaurants in Charlotte Street where he feasted on spaghetti or minestrone at Poggioli’s and later, Bertorelli’s.

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George Atkinson at his 90th Birthday celebrations

George graduated in 1937 with a BA Honours degree in Architecture. His first job was with the Architect’s Division of the Miners’ Welfare Commission, based in London. He was involved in the design of Pithead Baths, which greatly helped improve the pre-war working conditions of miners.

He then moved to Ilford Borough Council, where he worked on the conversion of schools into air raid shelters followed by a project with Alexander Gibbs Consulting Engineers to build a big ordnance factory in Cheshire. While there George met an engineer who was going to West Africa to

build airfields. This idea appealed to George who then applied to Humphrey’s Ltd of Knightsbridge, a construction firm who were contractors to the Air Ministry. So George arrived in Freetown, Sierra Leone, and travelled to a town called Waterloo, where he ran a project to build an airfield. While there he also built himself a bungalow with the help of local workers. He fondly recalled managing those who built the airfield, who by and large were local farmers. On one occasion when George had travelled to Freetown to collect the wages for the workers, he met an RAF pilot, who flew him

Obituaries

back to Waterloo in a twin wing Swordfish, which landed on the new runway.

The next planes to use the new runway were Flying Fortresses, which came from Seattle via Brazil; from there they would fly on to the Mediterranean. Due to the hot climate those who worked in Africa would usually only do so in spells of a few months but George stayed for about 18 months, during which time he was also involved in the building of the RAF Headquarters in Freetown.

Back in England with the war underway, George joined the RAF Airfield Construction Service in 1940. He started as a Pilot Officer and was based at Hatfield, where Jack Olding, a big engineering equipment contractor, was based. Equipment from America passed through there and George, with the help of contractors, gave lectures on the use of this equipment. At weekends he would go to London where he stayed in the RAF Club.

After the first contract in Hatfield, George was transferred to the 5004 Squadron building advanced landing grounds, largely in Surrey and Kent. These involved placing steel matting on levelled ground, through which grass would grow, concealing them from German spy planes. The landing grounds could take Hurricanes and Spitfires.

George was promoted to Flight Lieutenant with 5012 Squadron. He travelled to Normandy, where, with the many Irish labourers who had been enlisted as ‘work hands’, assisted the Canadian Royal Engineers to build the Caen bypass. During his time in Caen he got to know an army officer in charge of the Royal Electrical & Mechanical Engineers, who repaired jeeps brought in by airbuses. They shared a jeep, but since George wanted one to himself, he exchanged his Rolex watch for his own jeep.

It was given a ‘false’ registration number and he worried he would be found out if he parked next to another vehicle with the genuine number.

The 5012 Squadron also assisted the Canadian 2nd Army to get to Falaise where Canadian, British and American forces had captured many retreating Germans following D-Day. George spent the rest of the war in Cairo, where he was promoted to Acting Squadron Leader. He was responsible for the airmen who managed the airfields along the North African coast. He recalled Algiers being a particularly dangerous place at that time.

After the war George spent a brief period in 1946 with the Cement and Concrete Association before being appointed architect

at Building Research Station, Garston in 1947. Between 1952 and 1963 he was head of the overseas division and architectural and housing advisor to the Colonial Office and for a period also, the Overseas Development Administration. Between 1960 and 1961 George worked as a colonial liaison officer and advisor to the Federation of Malaya and to Singapore on housing. His valuable work overseas included assisting with the development of the new township and settlement known as Petaling Jaya near Kuala Lumpur. He travelled the world giving advice on building matters, especially in the wake of disasters such as hurricanes in the tropics.

It followed that in 1962 George was made an OBE in the birthday honours.

It was during this period of intense activity that George met Etain Bartholomew; so perhaps unsurprising that he couldn’t recall quite how he met his future wife, but we believe they were introduced by their mothers.

So in December 1957 George married Etain and they lived in Fishpool Street, St Albans. Edmund was born in 1959 and today, 24th February, would have been his 56th birthday. Ruth was born at 18 Fishpool Street in 1960 and in 1961 the family moved to Medway where Lewis was born in 1963.

Although George travelled frequently for work, he also imparted his love of travel on the whole family, which included numerous camping holidays around Europe. Sadly Lewis, who had Down’s Syndrome, died aged 4 in 1968.

During this period of family life George was Chief Architect at Building Research Station, Garston. His responsibilities included urban planning research, building quality and performance, and energy conservation in existing buildings. He also made a study of European Building Regulations. His old friend and colleague Harry Harrison recalls in his own book, that ‘George was very adept at multi-tasking, and he had what was clearly a characteristic habit, when in tedious meetings, of surreptitiously reading papers which had little to do with the topic under consideration’.

George retired from Building Research Establishment in 1977. This was followed by a lengthy extension to his career as a consultant architect and journalist. He was Editorial Consultant and contributor to Building Magazine, Building Technical File and Building Europe. In 1983 he was awarded ‘Technology Writer of the Year’. He had two books published A Guide through Construction Quality Standards in 1987 and Construction Quality & Quality Standards in 1995. In particular he was a prolific

correspondent with Building Magazine and this was acknowledged with a Testimonial Dinner in his honour in 1991.

Around the time that Edmund and Ruth left home, George and Etain moved from Midway to Romeland Cottage in October 1978, back to the heart of St Albans; close to the Abbey and the friends they loved. George was actively involved in St Albans Civic Society for many years and a member of the Baconian Club until his death. He had many close and dear friends and would welcome them into Romeland Cottage for lunch or a glass of wine, always accompanied by lengthy in-depth conversation.

Tragically Edmund was killed in 1990 aged 31 in a paragliding accident. Etain never recovered from the loss and George coped by burying himself in his studies and regular railway travels in Europe. However, he did show a keen interest in the progress of his grandchildren, Joseph and Eleanor in their careers, and more recently his greatgrandchildren Elliot and Anna (and even their future careers!) He could also be a really fun father and grandfather, using his imagination to conjure up crazy games. Eleanor recalls him teaching her to draw trees with numbers on his Amstrad and constructing marble runs in miles of guttering around the garden at Romeland Cottage.

Following Etain’s death in 2004, George adjusted easily back into a bachelor life, even learning to cook for himself again. He had valued support in this from friends and family, including Wendy who unfailingly drove him to do his weekly shop at Waitrose, Anne who cleaned and helped keep the house orderly and Mick, who slipped gently from being a ‘handyman’ around the house, to being a loyal and trusted friend to the very end.

As everyone knows, George never really stopped ‘working’, as his enthusiasm for gathering information continued right up to his death. George embraced information technology: having mastered the Amstrad word processor he reluctantly moved on to a PC, but this very quickly became his new window to the vast world of knowledge.

One project followed another, some came to fruition and others just involved hundreds of printed web pages, stored in poly pockets and filed in numerous ring binders on bookshelves that lined the walls of his study at Romeland Cottage, information saved for another day.

George continued to travel until the summer of 2011. In later years, when he could no longer cope with solo train travel, he had taken to going on Saga cruises to all the old radleian 2015

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corners of the globe. There was very little that held him back; he took his folding ‘trolley’ and called the trips his ‘Saga Care Home at sea’! Saga Cruises were also an opportunity to revisit the the places and people he had advised in his working life and in Singapore he singlehandedly organised himself an official welcoming party and tour of Petaling Jaya, in Malaysia, the town that he helped design 50 years previously. In fact the only thing that did call a halt to his wanderlust was, frustratingly, his own physical limitations. He became mainly housebound by 2012 and following an increasing number of falls, which dented even his self confidence, he moved to Tenterden House Nursing Home in April 2013. There he continued with his gathering of information, using a laptop and reading and cutting out articles from The Financial Times. He had little interest in meeting the other residents, but greatly looked forward to visits from his friends and family, eager to continue discussing his interests at depth – his mental faculties razor sharp to the very end.

He was very popular with staff at Tenterden House who cared for him with kindness and compassion right to the end.

Following a series of chest infections over the past winter, he passed away peacefully on the 2nd February.

Kendall On 19.9.2014 Edward Kendall, (f, 1932-1936). He went to the Regent Street Polytechnic in London and became a Quantity Surveyor. He was a Member of Royal Chartered Surveyors Institution. He served with the Royal Engineers from 1939 to 1946 and then went to live, first in Southern Rhodesia and later in New Zealand.

John Sugden In 1973 he took so-called early retirement and moved to Poole, Dorset where he worked for The Open University for sixteen years tutoring The Foundation Arts Course.

During this time he had three books published: Paganini, which was translated into several languages, Bliss and a History of The Purcell School of Music.

Sugden On 27.12.2014 John Goldthorp Sugden, (d, 1935-1938).

John Sugden was born in Brighouse,West Yorkshire and educated at Radley College where for a short time his future father-in-Law, Rex Machin, taught him as a boy! After leaving Radley he studied the violin at The Royal College of Music for a year before volunteering for the Royal Signals in which he served for five years ending with two in Ceylon. After the war he went to Magdalene College, Cambridge for two years reading History.

His teaching career started at Bilton Grange Prep School in 1948. In 1952 he moved to The King’s School, Canterbury and in 1959 was appointed Headmaster of Foster’s School, Sherborne. In 1964 he obtained the Headmastership of Wellingborough School, Northants.

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One of John Sugden’s books

Throughout his life music played a large part. He produced many Gilbert & Sullivan operas in each school as well as producing plays by Shakespeare and Shaw. His interest in G & S led him to write a paper in an International Competition which resulted in him being asked to deliver it at Kansas University in 1970, which he did.

He is survived by his wife, Jane whom he married in 1954, two sons, Christopher and Charles who were at Radley, and two grandchildren.

Forbes On 12.5.2014 Dr Colin Lachlan Forbes, (a, 1936-1940). After Radley he went up to read Geology at Clare College, Cambridge from 1940 to 1942 before serving with the Royal Engineers and becoming a Captain. He returned to Clare to finish his degree in 1947. He completed his Ph.D. in 1953. He became University Demonstrator in Geology in 1953 before being appointed in 1954 as Assistant Curator at the Sedgwick Museum of Geology in Cambridge. From 1967 to 1983 he was Lecturer in Geology and Curator of the Museum of Geology. He was a Consulting Geologist from 1953. He was a Fellow of Wolfson College, Cambridge

Obituaries

William Lovelace/Express/Getty Images

from 1980 to 1983 and a Director of the Cambridge Water Company from 1984 to 1994. He was the author of many papers on geological subjects. His brother, Lachlan, and his nephew, John, were at Radley.

Mott On 15.5.2015 Dr Sir John Harmar Mott, Bt (b, 1936-1940). At Radley he was a Prefect and a member of the lst Shooting VIII 1936. He was in the 1936 lst XI Hockey team. He went up to New College, Oxford before serving as a pilot in the Royal Air Force from 1943 to 1946.

He completed his medical training at the Middlesex Hospital before becoming a General Practitioner from 1952 to 1969.

He was Regional Medical Officer (DHSS) from 1969 to 1984 and a part-time Medical Referee from 1984 to 1993. He succeeded his father as 3rd Baronet in 1964.

Seymour On 23.11.2014 Francis (Frank) Hugh Seymour, (g, 1936-1939). Frank died in November aged 92 after a relatively short illness. He is survived by his elder brother, Adrian Seymour, daughter Margaret, son Bill, two loving granddaughters, Gillian and Hilary, niece Ginny Rottenburg and her family. Frank was predeceased by his wife, Helen Elizabeth (Betty). Together they created a home in the early 1950s in Qualicum Beach, British Columbia, where Frank continued to live until the end of his life.

Frank was born in Roehampton, London, England on June 18, 1922 to Captain Conway Hugh Seymour MC and Kathleen Louisa Seymour. He was educated at Cothill House, Radley College, Victoria Normal School and the University of Victoria.

His varied career included serving as an apprentice draftsman with Rolls Royce in Derby, a hard rock miner in the Northwest Territories, log salvage superintendent for Columbia Cellulose in Prince Rupert, British Columbia, a logging engineer on Vancouver Island and finally a teaching career in Parksville, B.C. During WWI Frank served in the British Merchant Marine as a wireless officer on numerous freighters and tankers, crossing the North Atlantic many times.

Frank will be forever remembered for his sense of humour, kindness and generosity.

Berney On 8.7.2014 John Vérel Berney, (c, 1937-1942). At Radley he was a Prefect. He served with the Royal Norfolk Regiment from 1942 to 1947 becoming a Major. He was wounded in action. He went up to Clare College, Cambridge and then became

James Edwards at Heatherdown Prep School in 1968 a landowner and farmer. He was a JP and was High Sheriff of Norfolk in 1978. At the age of 83 in 2007 he reported: Retired at last – bliss. His brother, Richard, was at Radley.

Mackenzie On 13.2.2013 Lt Col David Iain Mackenzie, OBE (e, 1937-1940). He served with the Highland Light Infantry and Royal Highland Fusiliers and The 3rd Malaysian Rangers from 1942 to 1973. He was twice mentioned in despatches and appointed OBE in 1973.

Dodsworth On 15.1.2014 Benjamin Charlesworth Ralph Dodsworth, CBE (a, 1938-1942). He served with the RAFVR from 1939 to 1945 becoming a FlightLieutenant. After the war he was a solicitor and a partner in Gray, Dodsworth & Cobb in York from 1951.

Edwards On 28.5.2012 James Valentine Edwards, CVO (b, 1939-1943). He was in the Cricket lst XI of 1942, Secretary of Hockey, captain of squash and a member of the Rackets and Athletics teams. He went up to Magdalen College, Oxford before serving as an Able Seaman with the RNVR from 1943 to 1947. He returned to Oxford to complete his degree in 1947 before becoming a schoolmaster. He was Headmaster of Heatherdown Preparatory School from 1959 until the school closed in 1982. Among the distinguished alumni of Heatherdown is David Cameron. James’s brothers, Anthony, Michael, David and Andrew were at Radley.

Gordon On 16.2.2015 (Reginald) Peter Gordon, MBE, DL (d, 1939-1943). At Radley he was a Junior Scholar and a member of the 1942 lst XV. He served with the Grenadier Guards during 1939-45 war becoming a Captain. He went up to Brasenose, Oxford and then joined Martins Bank in 1950 later taken over by Barclays Bank. He served as a local Director of the bank in Birmingham and Newcastle from 1969 until retirement in 1983. He was appointed MBE in the 1999 Queen’s Birthday Honours for services to the community, especially St. Oswald’s Hospice, in Newcastle upon Tyne.

Ingram On 19.5.2015 Richard Irvine Ingram, (d, 1939-1944). After Radley where he was a Prefect he served as a Sergeant with the Welsh Guards and Intelligence Corps from 1944 to 1947. He became an accounting machine salesman with NCR Ltd. in 1953 and rose through the management ranks. He left NCR in 1973 to become Comptroller of Castle Howard. From 1975 to 1985 he was a Cycle Retailer and a Parish Clerk from 1988.

Knox On 28.5.2015 Sir John Leonard Knox, (e, 1939-1943). At Radley he was a Prefect, a Junior Scholar, a James Scholar, a Heathcote Scholar and winner of the Richards Gold Medal. He was awarded a Scholarship to Worcester College, Oxford. He served as a Lieutenant with the Royal Artillery from 1944 to 1947. At Worcester he was awarded a First in Classics Mods and then a First in Jurisprudence. He won the Buchanan Prize in 1952. He spent a year at the Faculté de

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Droit, Paris University, before becoming a Barrister at Lincoln’s Inn in 1953. He became a Bencher in 1977 and was a Member of the Senate of the Inns of Court from 1975 to 1978. He took silk in 1979 and was a Junior Treasury Counsel. He was AttorneyGeneral, Duchy of Lancaster from 1984 to 1985. In 1985 he became a Judge of the High Court of Justice, Chancery Division.

He was a Member of the Lord Chancellor’s Law Reform Committee from 1978 and on the Council of Legal Education from 1975 to 1979. He was Chairman of the Chancery Bar Association in 1985 and Deputy Chairman of the Parliamentary Boundary Commission for England in 1987.

Mobbs On 26.10.2014 Roger Linnell Mobbs, (c, 1939-1943). He played for the lst XV in 1942 and the Cricket XI in 1943 and after Radley joined the RAFVR. He was in the Northamptonshire County Golf Team from 1952 to 1955 and Northamptonshire County Golf Champion in 1954.

His son, Jerry, writes: He joined the RAF during the latter part of the war and was posted to Cocos Islands where he remained until the end of hostilities. He then became a farmer, first in Northamptonshire, and then moving when he acquired a larger farm in Huntingdonshire in the late sixties. He sold that farm and retired back to Northamptonshire in 1976.

He remained a keen sportsman all his life, playing golf well into his eighties at the Northamptonshire County Club at Church Brampton. He was also active in country sports, having ridden to hounds with the Pytchley during and after the war, shooting regularly when farming and for many years afterwards, and fishing with limited success in various parts of the country! One of his great loves was training gun dogs and his pupils were highly regarded by all who shot with him. He also enjoyed considerable success at regional Gun Dog Trials.

His brothers George and Humphrey were at Radley.

In 2004 Paul Cooper (1944) awarded the President’s Prize [Old Radleian Golf] to Roger Mobbs with the following citation: My President’s Prize this year has been awarded to Roger Mobbs (1939) for outstanding contributions to Old Radleian golf. Before he started at golf he was a Northamptonshire athlete of distinction, playing cricket in a trial match for the County team and tennis for the 2nd County team.

Then he swept aside all opposition and

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won the Northamptonshire County Golf Championship in 1954, and played regularly for the County golf team for several years, interestingly losing once to a 16 year old Tony Jacklin. Roger, you can be forgiven!

Once he turned to OR golf he played in the Halford Hewitt for some years in the 1950s. The records show that in one extraordinary year half the team consisted of three Mobbs brothers and two Dexter brothers. He then faithfully continued to play for ORGS in the variously aged vintage team competitions, Bernard Darwin and Senior Darwin (even suffering the indignity of playing with me on occasions) and ultimately the Veteran (Methuselah) Darwin for the 75 and overs in 2001 and 2002; no partner of appropriate age and stamina could be found in 2003. This last accomplishment means that he is the first and only OR so far to have played in all four of the team competitions then on offer, which clinches my prize.

Munro-Faure On 15.6.2015 Arthur Douglas Munro-Faure, (a, 1939-1943).

At Radley he was a Junior Scholar. He went up to read Science and Medicine at Magdalen College, Oxford and then on to St. Bartholomew’s Hospital. He became a Physician and Director of Clinical Research at the Wellcome Foundation.

Morland On 19.4.2015 Robin John Morland, (d, 1940-1943). After Radley he went to the Faraday House Engineering College where he won Silver and Gold Medals. He worked in the English Electric Company from 1947 to 1949 and as Engineer in System Operation of the Central Electricity Generating Board from 1949 to 1986 when he retired. He was a Member of the Institute of Electrical Engineers. After he retired he was Company Treasurer of Shopmobility and Chairman of Age Concern in St Alban’s.

Cooper On 9.6.2015 John Bailey Cooper, (b, 1942-1945).

John Cooper, who has died aged 86, was a man of many widely differing talents, including a fine gift for art and a shrewd business acumen. He had been a resident of Marlborough for over fifty years and could often be found chatting with friends in the High Street about local events with his usual infectious enthusiasm.

He was born at Marshgate House in Swindon on June 16th 1928, the first son of Alfred and Marguerite Cooper. There was a double celebration in the Cooper household

that day, for John’s arrival coincided with the news that Brown Jack, a Wroughton-trained racehorse had won the Ascot Gold Cup and his father had placed a sizeable bet on it!

John was educated at Durlston Court School, a prep school near Swanage then at Radley College where his particular love was art. He always counted it great good fortune that he was taught at Radley by Paul Feiler, the art master from Eastbourne College, which had moved to Radley because of the war, and who also taught at the Slade School of Art, which for the duration was based at the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford. This proved to be a wonderful start, as pencil drawing was the foundation stone of the Slade’s curriculum.

Subsequently John won the prestigious Radley Art Prize.

Whilst studying a book he had borrowed from the Wilson Library at school John noticed that an Augustus John charcoal drawing of Thomas Lowinsky, the same surname as his study mate, Justin. The latter revealed that the drawing was, indeed, of his father, and furthermore that “he (Augustus John) had done one of Martin, Clare and myself.” John said he would love to see them, and was invited to Garsington Manor for lunch after which Justin’s father asked him if he would like to see his collection of pictures.

The next two hours were spent happily looking at beautiful pictures, and presaged the start of John and Justin’s lifelong friendship.

On leaving school just after the end of the war, John obtained a short term commission in the 10th Royal Hussars (PWO) which he then decided to extend to a short service commission of five years, due to terminate early in 1952. However, when the Korean War began and Britain became part of the UN Forces, the five year period was extended for a further year and he spent from 19511953 with the Royal Inniskilling Dragoon Guards (the Skins) in Korea. During this time he wrote home regularly and luckily for the family, his mother kept all the letters and following their discovery after his father’s death, John was persuaded to turn them into a book, with relevant footnotes and explanations, which was subsequently presented to the regiment for its archives.

He returned to England and joined the family business, Cooper’s Metals, in 1954 becoming Director of the non-ferrous side of the company. His interest in the business was long held. At a very early age, whilst the family was still living at Marshgate, the small JC was intercepted as he set off purposefully, brandishing a carving knife to help cut up the dead animals that were being rendered down for tallow.

John was gradually involved more and more in the business and travelled widely to see either suppliers or customers. However, this man of many interests did not allow business to rule his life entirely and he would find time to visit picture and antique dealers where his discerning eye unearthed some very fine objects and paintings.

John’s love of cars began at a very early age and continued all his life. The acquisition of a 1905 De Dion Bouton was the beginning of a long term restoration project. It had a considerable amount of brass to shine, a task to which Cooper was more than equal following his time with the 10th Hussars, who were known as the shiners. Even in later life, John would always ensure that Rawlingswell’s front door brass was always highly polished! In the 1970s John agreed to take the Marlborough Carnival Queen around the town in the De Dion, at the front of the parade. One of her less publicised duties was to hold onto the radiator cap!

John’s love of art never diminished and when he took early retirement in 1982 he was able to dedicate himself to his painting, his beloved garden and his “tribe” of adored children and stepchildren whose widely varied achievements were a source of continual quiet pride. He spent many happy hours painting and was delighted when Lord Bath purchased one of his pictures, which hangs at Longleat. He was President of the Marlborough Gardening Club and treasurer of Marlborough Artists and a member of the History Society. Proud of his Wiltshire roots he was amongst the first to form a group to save St Peter’s Church in the town. His enthusiasm knew no bounds and he became involved in the restoration of the 16th century Merchant’s House, firstly as a trustee and then as president of the trading company.

John Cooper married twice, firstly to Jane Follett with whom he had three sons and a daughter. Secondly in 1975 he married Diana Reid(neé Bent) with whom he had an exceptionally happy marriage. She survives him with his three sons and five stepchildren.

(His daughter predeceased him). His brother, R. Cooper was at Radley.

Dewing On 23.4.2014 Hugh Michael Dewing, (f, 1942-1947). He was a Prefect and winner of the History Essay Prize. He went up to St. Catharine’s College, Cambridge and became a Solicitor in Local Government. His brother, John, and his nephew, David, were at Radley.

Nugee On 30.12.2014 Edward George Nugee, TD, QC (h, 1942-1947). At Radley he was a Junior Scholar and a Senior NCO in the

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Obituaries

Ted Nugee JTC. He was Editor of College Block and The Petreian, Hon. Sec. of the Chess Club and a member of the Literary, Musical, Debating, Campanological, Political, Shakespeare and Natural History Societies.

The Radleian magazine records that he gave a paper on Dryden to the Literary Society.

In a Debating Society report it states: “E. G. Nugee seconded the opposition and revealed considerable powers of logic”.

He served on the Radley Council from 1975 to 1995. During those 20 years his colleagues on the Council, Bursars Micky Jones and Richard Beauchamp, Wardens Dennis Silk and Richard Morgan, and, most of all, the College benefited enormously from his wise counsel on a vast range of subjects. He was very involved in creating and supporting The Friends of Radley College which later became The Radley Foundation.

He also served for several years on the Radleian Society Committee. His wife, Rachel, who died in August 2015, was very much a part of the team that contributed so much to the success of the College. Ted and Rachel loved Radley and Radley owes them both a huge debt for all their service.

The full text of the obituary sent to The Times: Counsel: “What is the percentage increase if an asset increases in value from £100 to £400?” Witness (confidently): 400%.

“And from £100 to £200?” Witness (less confidently): 200%. And from £100 to £120?

Witness (hesitantly): 120%? I’m sure I’ve seen it done in that way?

Edward Nugee QC, who has died at the age of 86, always claimed not to be a great cross-examiner but as this exchange shows was quite capable of exposing the innumeracy of a witness.

Universally known as Ted, he was one of the pre-eminent Chancery barristers of his generation. He never retired (although as a concession to old age he latterly took Wednesdays off) and practised for over 58 years, the last 37 of them as a QC, outlasting all his contemporaries to become the most senior Chancery silk in practice. For over 30 years until 2006 he was head of his chambers during which it transformed itself from a small, well-respected but essentially traditional set of chambers, largely the old radleian 2015

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concerned with conveyancing and trusts, into one of the largest and most well-known of the modern chancery bar under the name Wilberforce Chambers.

Ted himself played no small part in building its reputation, appearing in the first cases to reach the House of Lords on rent review, capital transfer tax and commons registration, and for the successful parties in the first two modern pensions cases (Imperial Foods and Courage Group), thereby laying the foundations for Wilberforce Chambers to emerge as the dominant pensions set in the country as pensions litigation became more and more common. He oversaw its expansion from 8 juniors when he took over as Head in 1976 to some 23 silks and 27 juniors when he stepped down, with none of the disharmony or even acrimony that sometimes accompanies such a change.

He also sat as a Deputy High Court Judge for 15 years from 1982 to 1997, and although appealed a dozen times or so was never once reversed by the Court of Appeal.

Behind his professional success was a man who gave freely of his time and talents to a wide variety of causes, always ready to help a colleague with a difficult point, serving on many bodies connected with the law, education, the Church of England and other interests close to his heart, drafting constitutions for this and trusts for that, managing to give anyone with whom he dealt the impression that their matter was the most important outside interest that he had.

But he was also a man of strong views, sometimes surprising for one who appeared so conventional in his life and work. He was for example a lifelong supporter of Russia, taking his children to the Soviet Union (to visit among other things the wartime cemeteries in Leningrad) when this was not a common holiday destination. As recently as March 2014 he was writing to The Times to denounce western diplomats for their failure to understand how Russia sees the world and their folly in seeking to detach Ukraine from the Russian sphere of influence (Letters 26 March 2014). He also decried Western policy on Syria, seeing the Assad regime, for all its faults, as the de jure as well as de facto government and a surer protection for the members of the ancient Christian churches in Syria than any of the various factions ranged against it (Letters 11 June 2012, 18 July 2013 and 29 August 2013).

He was born in Surrey on 9 August 1928.

His father, George Nugee, was a regular artillery officer who was commissioned in 1913 and served throughout both world

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wars, the first on the western front (where as a young officer he witnessed the slaughter of the first day of the Somme) and the second commanding the guns on Gibraltar, retiring as Brigadier. Ted was just too young to see active service in the war and was at school, first at Brambletye (where he and his classmates watched dogfights in the skies over Sussex) and then at Radley College (which had a long association with his family and where his uncle John Nugee, previously sub-warden of Radley but then headmaster of Eastbourne College, brought Eastbourne when it was evacuated from the south coast). Ted was always very grateful to both schools for his education and later served as chairman of the board of governors of Brambletye from 1972 to 1977, and a member of Radley Council for 20 years from 1975 to 1995.

Having won a scholarship to Worcester College Oxford to read classics, he then embarked on 2 years’ National Service as a gunner (RA). He volunteered to go overseas and was sent to Singapore during the Malayan Emergency. He brought back, as well as stories of the impenetrability of the Malayan jungle, a lifelong taste for whisky (safer to drink than water in the tropics) and Indonesian style curries, and a preference for wearing sarongs, although usually only in bed. Going up to Worcester on his return he realised he had not seen a Latin or Greek text in 2 years, preferring to play cards with his fellow gunners, reputedly to his considerable financial advantage, on the long troopship voyages to the Far East and back. He promptly abandoned classics and switched to law.

He left Worcester with a double first and in 1953 was awarded the Eldon Law Scholarship, whose other holders have included Lords Denning, Radcliffe, Wilberforce and Bingham and, much to his pleasure, 3 other members of his chambers.

He was called to the Bar by the Inner Temple in 1955. He read as a pupil at 2 New Square in Lincoln’s Inn with a promising chancery junior called Sydney Templeman (obituary 12 June 2014), and a slightly less junior John Brightman (obituary 17 February 2006). John Brightman’s next pupil was Margaret Thatcher, with whom Ted shared a room for a year: he used to say that attendance at John Brightman’s conferences doubled when Margaret Thatcher was there.

In 1955 he also met and married Rachel Makower, who had worked as a codebreaker at Bletchley. She came from a well-connected Jewish family (her cousin

was Herbert Samuel, High Commissioner of Palestine and the first Jewish governor in 2000 years), but she had converted to Christianity at Oxford and later became Central President of the Mothers’ Union.

They subsequently discovered that they had not only overlapped at Oxford but had been in Colombo harbour on the same day, he on a troopship and she accompanying her father, a silk merchant, on his first post-war business trip to Australia. Ted and Rachel moved to Hampstead where they lived throughout their married life, becoming stalwarts of the parish church and having four sons together.

Ted soon moved from 2 New Square next door to 3 New Square, then the chambers of Richard Wilberforce. Life as a junior chancery barrister in the 1950s was not easy: he and Rachel celebrated each brief with a walnut whip, of which there were three in the first year. He supplemented his income with teaching and devilling, and investigating titles for the Land Registry. His detailed understanding of the technicalities of land law led to his appointment as conveyancing counsel to a number of government departments, and to the court, and he was pleased to have written, as late as 2008, a learned article on the remaining impact of feudal law on the land registration system which persuaded the Land Registry to change their practice.

His most memorable briefs as a junior were the Spanish champagne case (Bollinger v Costa Brava), the first time that a remedy in passing off was granted not to a single business but a class of producers; and travelling to Uganda to interview the Bunyoro who had a longstanding grievance against the colonial administration, where among others he met an old man who remembered hiding as a boy when the British had first arrived in the 1890s. As a junior he also found time for the Territorial Army where he spent 14 years in the Air Photography Interpretation Unit (for which he received his TD); for Lewisham CAB where he devoted 18 years to giving advice on landlord and tenant issues as what was then called a Poor Man’s Lawyer; and for the Bar Council where as a member of the External Relations Committee he was responsible for the suggestion that foreign judges be invited to the opening of the legal year.

On taking silk in 1977, he developed a more litigious practice, acting for example for the Bartlett family in a then unprecedented action (lasting 41 days)

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Ted Nugee against a bank’s trustee department for allowing the family assets to be lost on speculative projects, and frequently appearing in cases concerning landlord and tenant disputes, trusts, charities, taxation and later pensions. The case of which he was most proud was a significant capital transfer tax case in which he acted for the Revenue in the House of Lords (IRC v Pearson). The High Court judge and all three members of the Court of Appeal had held against the Revenue, and in the Lords he faced three days of withering fire from Viscount Dilhorne who started off by treating his argument with open contempt. But he eventually won him round, securing victory by 3 to 2 with one common lawyer, one Scots judge and one newly appointed Lord Chief Justice in the majority, and all the Chancery judges at each level against him.

It is now generally accepted, even by his opponents, that Ted was right and they were wrong.

From 1982 he sat regularly as a Deputy High Court Judge where he is remembered not only for the quality of his legal analysis (several of his judgments are still regularly

cited) but for his kindness and courtesy, remarking that judgments should be written for the benefit not of the winning party (who usually does not care why he has won) but for that of the losing party, who cares very much why he has lost. He was however never offered a full-time appointment, something that caused some surprise at the time and exposes the failings of the old ‘tap on the shoulder’ system. He never expressed any regrets at this omission and it enabled him to carry on in practice long past a judge’s retirement age, and thereby have the opportunity, believed by him, no doubt correctly, to be unique, of welcoming his own son Christopher to the High Court bench on behalf of the Bar when he was appointed in 2013.

As well as his practice, he sat on many legal bodies: the Council of Legal Education (chairman of the Board of Studies 1976 to 1982), the Common Professional Examination Board (chairman 1981 to 1987), the Lord Chancellor’s Law Reform Committee and others; and in 1984 was asked to chair a Committee of Inquiry into the management of privately owned blocks of flats, which led to the Landlord and

Tenant Act 1987. In his final year he could be found giving evidence to a House of Lords select committee on technical aspects of trusts, reaching back into his memory for an unreported case he had appeared in some 40 years before as a junior. He also served on many committees of the Inner Temple, including acting as Chairman of the Estates Committee, and as Treasurer in 1996; and as one of the founders of the Temple Music Foundation and trustee of the Temple Music Trust. In later years he funded in a modest way the provision of music in primary schools and elsewhere.

Outside the law and education, his main interest was the church and in particular the Church of England. As well as serving as churchwarden at Hampstead Parish church, he was the QC Church Commissioner from 1990 to 2001, remaining thereafter a member of the Legal Advisory Commission of General Synod, and a patron of three parishes (Wymering and Farlington near Portsmouth and Great Oxendon in Northamptonshire), a responsibility he took very seriously. He was also a frequent correspondent on theology (where he took very much an evidence-based approach) and church history. One hapless correspondent once made the mistake of suggesting to him that the Church of England had been founded under Henry VIII and that until then England had been a Roman Catholic country. This elicited a detailed 5-page reply, politely but forcefully explaining, complete with quotations from Augustine and Magna Carta onwards, the unbroken continuity of the Church of England from before the reformation.

Despite his final illness, when the cancer that he had lived with for years without letting it affect his life or work became very aggressive and sapped his physical strength, mentally he remained as acute as ever, signing off his last, typically forthright, Opinion a couple of weeks before Christmas. He is survived

by Rachel, by his four sons of whom he was inordinately proud – John, a financial consultant formerly of the Bank of England, Christopher, a High Court judge, Andrew, Chief Executive of a multimedia tour company, and Richard, a Major-General – and by 11 grandchildren.

Edward George Nugee, born 9 Aug 1928 died 30 Dec 2014 Soames On 15.1.2015 Robin (Robert Harold) Soames, TD, DL (g, 1942-1947).

At Radley he was a Prefect, a member of the old radleian 2015

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the Cricket XI of 1946 and the 1st Hockey XIs of 1945, 1946 and 1947. He played in the Rackets teams of 1946 and 1947 and the Squash teams of 1945, 1946 and 1947. His grandson, Toby Lewis, was at Radley.

His son Sandy’s tribute: What a wonderful gathering of Robin’s family and friends here at Montacute. Minker and Dad had 14 good years at the wonderful Park House, where they extended a very warm welcome to all, and where Minker created a special garden. Their many friends in the village have been most generous in our preparations for today.

Robin was involved in this church in many ways, continuing a long record of service that ran through from the late 1950s at Layer Marney to Shalford and Toppesfield.

Our Dad was of course christened Robert Harold and when he was in hospital recently my only difficulty was getting the nurses to call him Robin, as the name ROBERT was clearly displayed above his bed. One day he recalled that the shortening to Robin had been started by his nanny at Colne House; and once this was relayed to the nurses we entered a whole new world of familiarity!

Dad’s relationship with beer and brewing literally covered his whole life. Both his parents had direct connections into the trade – the Soameses in Spalding, and the Combeses in Covent Garden which merged in 1901 to form Watney Combe Reid. He joined Watneys on the 1st January 1950, aged just 20, and served on the Board from 1957 to 1982. At the time of the famous contested take-over bid by Grand Met in 1974 he was running the tenanted estate of some 4,000 pubs; and in the ruthless period of rationalisation that followed, he was known as ‘The Great Survivor’.

It gave him enormous pleasure to see Tamzin marry into the trade, and to watch Beryn’s astutely managed revival of the Felinfoel Brewery. Including minor inputs from me on the global industry, there were always brewing issues to discuss.

He was endlessly fascinated by any sport involving a small ball, and quite expert at a number of them. At Radley he was in the College 1st teams for squash, rackets, tennis, hockey and cricket; and a College prefect. In his later years he enjoyed playing golf, especially with his grandchildren, and watching tennis and golf with his brother Richard.

Matching these two passions of beer and the little ball, indeed of even greater importance in his life, was his all-consuming

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Robin Soames in a point-to-point and life-long love affair with all matters equine, possibly seeded by his father who hunted or shot at least five days a week, and was not troubled by the constraints of office life!

Apart from faded photographs to evidence Robin’s passion, and his stories of travelling to the East Essex meet by train from Chappel as a child, recently we found a book given by his parents for Christmas 1939, entitled “Keeping a Pony at Grass”.

He played polo when on National Service with the 11th Hussars and, after leaving the regiment, assisted his soldier friend and great horseman Ron Wall to take on the Perseverance pub in Long Melford.

The pub had stables behind, and it provided a great start for Ron to act as semi-private trainer to Robin and Nat Sherwood.

Ron and his team helped Robin to win 25 point-to-points over 18 years, and always produced his horses at their very best on the day. In fact they were so fit that there are numerous stories of Dad getting a little carried away – for example at Moulton where on a bend, in the lead, his horse jumped out of the course onto the road; whereupon he immediately jumped it back, re-joined the race, and still finished in the first four. On another occasion at Marks Tey in 1963 he won the Adjacent race and jumped two more fences after the finishing post, which triggered a major dressing down by the stewards before receiving the silver!

His most cherished day on the East Anglian circuit was a double at the East Essex meeting in 1966. The painting

displayed in the church porch is of his two winning horses that day.

With his height of over 6’ 3” he struggled with his weight; so there were frequent visits to the Turkish baths in London during the week, and on Saturday he would breakfast on simply a glass of sweet sherry and a raw egg.

Apart from Robin helping to run the East Essex meeting, our loyal and loving mother Sue cooked the stewards’ lunches at Layer Marney, and took the full spread over in her green Morris Minor traveller – which became our field buggy at Abbots Hall when it had passed its 10th birthday.

Gaily decorated, with a noisy exhaust and consuming all the petrol destined for the lawnmower, it was a classically generous gesture by Dad. We all learned to drive in it, including Jack and Sophie who were both under 10 at the time.

When Robin retired from race riding, he hunted with the Quorn and East Essex, and offered great support to me keeping our point-to-pointers with Mike and Jenny Bloom, his second cousin, at their wonderful school for aspiring City jockeys.

Those who lived with Robin would agree that he was a fairly quiet man in the domestic arena – consuming another book from his voluminous collection, or working through new projects in his farming jointventure with Roger Eves – but he liked nothing better than throwing a good party.

I can recall a racy 1960s adult ‘disco’ at Layer Marney when our playroom was transformed with red light bulbs and the record player! And when Sue and Dad moved to Abbots Hall, they opened the

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doors to a series of large events – including wild teenage parties for all of us, the East Essex Hunt Ball, and the Shalford village fete.

The best supported fete was in 1972 when Dad arranged for it to be opened by Belinda Green, the blonde and beautiful Australian Miss World.

In more recent times Minker and Dad threw a wonderful family party at Park House to mark their 80th birthdays, which was greatly enjoyed.

Robin lived in Essex for nearly 70 years of his life and he embraced its pleasures and institutions in many ways. He served in the Essex Yeomanry for 17 years, and commanded the regiment from 1967. He played cricket for the Gentlemen of Essex, and indeed was batting at Rickling Green when Sophie was born. On hearing the news he hit a six and a bottle of celebratory champagne was lowered from the pavilion window on a rope!

He was an active fund-raiser for the Friends of Essex Churches, including cycling many miles round the lanes. But most importantly of all, he met our mother Sue in 1956 at a party at Hylands Park; and they were engaged on Valentine’s Day 1957. Sue and Robin were married for nearly 40 years and were fantastically loyal to each other through times of happiness and adversity.

After Mummy died, Dad married Minker, another wonderful woman, who he had known since their childhood days in Essex. As teenagers in the late 40s, with petrol rationing still enforced, Robin and his brother Bill used to cycle to Garlands Farm to play tennis with Minker and Anne. The normal tennis pairing of Anne and Bill led quite quickly to the first Soames/Coates marriage in 1948, and Minker and Robin followed up some 50 years later.

There were many other achievements and interests in Dad’s busy life, including his fishing exploits in Alaska, Iceland and Russia, where he had a reputation for tireless tenacity on the bank, and very often led the catch of the week. He was Master of the Brewers’ Company in 1973 and President of the Licensed Victuallers’ National Homes.

During his leadership of Coca-Cola Southern Bottlers, profits tripled and the Coke lorry made regular deliveries to Abbots Hall.

In retirement he ran a large pig business with Roger and sent 150 porkers a week to Sainsburys. Together with Minker he was a great support to his brother Richard, who lived at Montacute in his final years. And he loved shooting and bridge.

He was very proud of his nine grandchildren, and would be thrilled to see six of them here. Of the three who are sadly

absent, my elder son Milo is in New Zealand on a gap year, Jeremy is at Sandhurst on his final exercise en route to the Welsh Guards, and Toby is managing a hotel near St David’s.

When Dad arrives at the Pearly Gates, there will be as many friends to welcome him as there are here today. Travel well Dad, be good, and send our love to Mum. Andrews On 1.6.2015 David Hunter Andrews, (a, 1943-1948). He was in the Cricket XIs of 1947 and 1948, the Hockey XI of 1948 and the Squash Team of 1947 and 1948. He went up to Cardiff University and became a Chartered Accountant. He played Squash Rackets for Wales from 1949 to 1953.

From 1954 to 1956 he did a short service commission in the Royal Artillery. He was a Director of David Evans & Co. (Swansea) Ltd., Department Store from 1956 to 1978 and also served as a Director of Dingles Ltd., the Principality Building Society and Tor Investment Trust plc. He served as Chairman of Castle Leisure Ltd., Peter Alan Ltd., Cadwalader (Ice Cream) and Robbik Property Ltd. He was also Director of the Swansea N.H.S. Trust. He is survived by his wife Diana and by two daughters and a son.

Burgess On 6.12.2014 Christopher Gerald Burgess, (b, 1943-1945). His grandfather, his twin brother John, his sons Nigel and James and two grandsons were at Radley.

From the address by his son Nigel: Before I start I would just like to say how completely overwhelmed we are to see so many friends here. Thank you so much for coming – Dad would be acutely embarrassed.

Very sadly my sister Jackie is not here. She is deeply upset not to be with us but she is at home in Ireland looking after her husband who has just undergone two operations.

Dad was born, perhaps unsurprisingly, at much the same time as his twin brother John almost exactly 87 years ago. His father was a very conventional “Edwardian” Englishman and his mother a rather less constrained American. As well as John he had an older brother Michael and a younger sister Jill with whom he was always extremely close and who is with us today.

His home for much of his childhood and until just after he was married was Gibcracks., a fine old Essex farmhouse and farm near Chelmsford, where John’s family still live and this remained one of the very special places in his life. Here he acquired a deep appreciation of some of the basic qualities of life that would always sustain

him: a love of nature, the magic of the muddy east coast rivers and creeks and his love of the English countryside.

From an early stage it was unlikely that Pa’s life would follow a very predictable path and it didn’t. He had a much disrupted education. He went to a very strict prep school, only tolerable because he had a twin brother to share its rigours – he left his prep school in 1941 to accompany his mother and brothers and sister to his grandmother’s home in Washington DC. For two years or so he attended the high school, enjoying the relatively undisciplined freedom after the constraints of such an austere boarding school. However his priority was to get home to England to go to Dartmouth and join the Navy. In 1943 strings were pulled and he passed the appropriate exam at the British Embassy. So when only just 15, he abandoned the relative security of Washington, was signed on as a naval midshipman and had an exciting passage from New York back to England aboard the cruiser HMS Newcastle. Dreams were quickly shattered when at his medical he was discovered to be blue/green colour blind so arrangements were hastily made to send him to Radley, his grandfather’s old school.

Severe culture shock. He arrived at Radley poorly prepared and academically found himself well behind his contemporaries but, as one of his old Radley friends told me (with more than a hint of envy), having hitherto avoided the privations of rationing, he arrived conspicuously well fed and therefore was extremely well prepared to make up for his academic shortcomings as a useful sportsman. Life improved when he was joined by his brother John in 1944.

He enjoyed Radley – there were occasional clashes with the establishment over some of the more illogical rules – but essentially he thrived. He played for the first fifteen for the three years he was there and was captain in his last season. In 1945 he and John were both in the VIII that won the schools race at Henley, the Hedsor Cup. On leaving school, he and John had the opportunity to continue their rowing at Leander Club and both were selected to represent the club in the pair oared race – the Goblets and the coxless four in the 1946 Henley Regatta. Some time before the regatta an altercation with his coach very nearly brought his rowing career to a premature end but a compromise (brokered by his brother) finally permitted the pair to continue, but he was unceremoniously ejected from the four. Quite probably spurred on by what he saw as an outrageous injustice and certainly the old radleian 2015

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Christopher Burgess and his brother John in the winning 1945 Radley Eight the support of very enthusiastic schoolboy spectators, they won the event, beating some of the very best international opposition on the way. Aged only 18 at the time they still hold the record as the youngest crew to win an elite event at Henley.

This success led to a successful rowing tour in the Argentine and the prospect of further international competition. National Service intervened and in 1947 following some training near Larkhill, he and John took a lift in a jeep and when the jeep overturned so did their lives. John suffered severe head injuries and was fortunate to survive and Dad badly injured his knees. The accident was to be life changing for both of them and certainly put paid to any chance of them competing in the 1948 London Olympics which until then had been a very real possibility.

Although his injuries healed they eventually led to the arthritis and operations

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that were to increasingly immobilise him during the last 30 years of his life.

He completed his National Service as an enthusiastic subaltern with the Royal Norfolk Regiment serving in Palestine and Greece, returned to America for a spell, worked as management trainee for the cosmetics firm Goya, apparently not entirely because he had a passion for the cosmetics industry but that he knew how to sail, and the owner of the company, a friend of my grandfather, needed a good crew. He eventually returned to Gibcracks to farm with John.

Dad’s sister Jill had been at school with Mum and frequently brought her home with her to stay at Gibcracks. Very fortunately for us one thing led to another and they were married in November 1953, and Jackie born the following year.

In 1955 Mum and Dad bought Sheepcote Farm at Great Henny, in a lovely fold of Stour valley country just on the other side

of Sudbury. Here their life settled down to a precarious but extremely happy existence.

Dad was truly independent and for the rest of his life the only office he had was the one at home. He farmed what can only be described as “the hard way” and on a shoestring. But with Mum’s resolute support and generous help and advice from what were to become lifelong friends, he learnt a great deal very quickly and managed. As a place for us to grow up, and without any need for the benefit of some 50 years of hindsight, it was idyllic.

As making a living from the farm became more difficult fortune came to the rescue when a close friend virtually passed on his own job with the Walls Meat Company to Dad which involved arranging the supply of pigs from his area of Essex and Suffolk. This was an essential supplement that enabled Dad to continue to farm but also introduced him to a much wider farming community which

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was to be the basis for Dad’s independent career for the rest of his working life.

In 1970 a serious accident again turned Dads life upside down – he fell off a straw stack badly injuring his back. For several anxious weeks the extent of his injury was uncertain. Local friends rallied around to look after the pigs on the farm – a lesson in true friendship that he never forgot – and Mum, convinced at the time that he would not be able to manage the farm again, arranged for the farm to be sold and what was to be the first of their five house moves.

Dad recovered from the fall and for a while found it difficult to come to terms with the move and the loss of the farm, but he was now able to give his full attention to the development of the independent pig buying agency he had started with a friend in Norfolk. Happily this gradually prospered and supported this new phase in their life and endured for nearly thirty years.

An incidental benefit of what was otherwise a fairly traumatic episode was the purchase of a very small, very basic villa in a lovely position near the Spanish coast in Javea.

The house had been lent to them by friends as a very kind gesture to aid Dad’s recovery and since then the house been the base for countless happy holidays for three generations of the family for over forty years. This house became another of Dad’s special places and happily he was able to stay there for the last time only three months before he died.

Dad valued his friends enormously and he was blessed to have made many, very good ones at every stage of his life. At times he played the reluctant socialite but he always warmed to his task. He had a wonderful sense of humour and could be mischievous verging on the outrageous. Equally he was utterly content in his own company. He was a man of simple pleasures who counted his blessings.

His overriding priority was always his family and he was a wonderful husband and father. Aware of the shortcomings in his own education, he was determined that we would have the benefit of something more stable and at least give us a wider range of choices than he had. But we had much more than that – we not only shared many of his passions – for swimming, sailing and windsurfing to name a few – but for many years we did them with him and had an awful lot of fun.

Mum and Dad’s move here to Clare was superb timing and a great successDad loved the house and garden and was overwhelmed by the generosity and spontaneous friendship offered by so many people

His strong independent character and inner strength that we had all taken for granted for so long came increasingly to the fore as his mobility deteriorated. Although he was definitely indignant when he was told that he could no longer drive, he was remarkably positive, he relished the things he could still enjoy: his friends, his family, the abundant wildlife in the garden, the sport on television and outings on Beelzebub, his cherished red mobility scooter.

He was a great man. He set us all a wonderful example and we loved him very much.

He was a hard-working individual who loved to be involved in many community organisations which included local councils and being part of the Independent Custody Visiting Scheme for the DyfedPowys Police Authority for 12 years.

Chris passed away peacefully at Withybush Hospital, Haverfordwest. His surviving family remember him as a kind, fair and gracious gentleman and a patient father who encouraged his children to explore the world and find adventure.

We all know he will be missed but never forgotten and loved as always.

Doble In May 2014 Bruce Lorimar Doble, (f, 1943-1947). After Radley where he was a Prefect he spent a short spell in the Army before he went up to Jesus College, Cambridge where he studied Engineering before becoming a Consulting Engineer.

Alexander On 28.10.2014 Major Philip Carlyon Alexander, (b, 1944-1948). His brother, Richard, was at Radley.

Odling On 28.10.2014 Christopher Arthur Odling, (g, 1943-1947). At Radley he coxed the 2nd VIII of 1948. His brothers Guy, Mike and Simon, his nephew Nigel, his cousin, Robin Godwin-Austen and his son, Richard were at Radley.

Chris Odling of Wiston Pembrokeshire died surrounded by his family on 28th October 2014. He was 84 years old.

Chris is survived by his wife, Pat; his children, Philippa, Claire and Richard; his five grandchildren, Zoe, Katherine, James, Rebecca and Zacc.

Chris was born on 1st December 1929 in Warwickshire the third son of Harold and Myrtle, brother to Michael, Guy and Simon. In 1948 after leaving Radley he was commissioned into the Royal Warwickshire Regiment as 2nd Lieutenant for his National Service. He joined the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank in 1952 and worked for the corporation for 30 years. He initially worked in Borneo and Malaysia, then on to Thailand, where he met and married Pat, who was working for the Foreign Office in Bangkok.

Over the next six years, the couple welcomed the three children into their home. Chris and the family travelled extensively in Asia, Australia and the Middle East as part of his varied work and on memorable family holidays in Europe, North America and Africa.

In addition to his illustrious career, Chris was an accomplished Scout Leader and over the 40 plus years he was a Scout he was awarded the Silver Acorn and the Silver Fox, the highest award that can be given to a Scout leader, by the Chief Scout.

Philip Carlyon Alexander was born in Peking on 2nd October 1930, the son of Colonel Robert Harper Alexander MC (who served in both World Wars in the Royal Army Medical Corps) and Dorothy Mabel Carlyon. He was married to Susanna Bedford on 3rd October 1959.

They had three children: Geraldine, Thomas and Annabel. He died on 28 October 2014.

He was educated at Swanbourne House and Highbury Prep Schools and then at Radley College in 1944 where he excelled at sport: he was in the 1947 and 48 Rugby XVs (Honorary Secretary 1948), Hockey XI (captain 1948) and the 1948 Cricket XI and Tennis Teams. In 1948 he was a School Prefect and the Honorary Secretary of the Games Committee and of the Political Society.

After completing his National Service Commission in The Royal Sussex Regiment in 1950 he worked for the multi sales firm BEWAC in Nigeria where he also learnt to play polo and became a talented player. He decided to rejoin the Army.

He was commissioned into The Durham Light Infantry (DLI) and was posted to the 2nd Battalion in Wuppertal. After the amalgamation of the 1st and 2nd Battalions he became Adjutant in 1956 and served in Aden and Cyprus. He attended the Staff College in 1963. Thereafter he served in regimental and staff appointments in England, Germany, Singapore, Hong Kong and Northern Ireland. He played a large part in setting up the polo club at RAF Catterick. He retired in 1978 and for the next 15 years organised exhibitions for the City and Guilds Institute of London. In 1961 he accepted the invitation to become a Woodman of Arden (Longbow Archer). the old radleian 2015

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Philip Alexander on his polo pony Philip was a fine Regimental Officer in the true traditions of the Durham Light Infantry. He had extremely high standards and took a great interest in the welfare of his men. In some ways they were his other family who respected his no nonsense approach. He was very much a family man always kind generous and outgoing. He will be sadly missed by his own and army families.

Whitworth On 30.9.2015 Christopher Henry Whitworth, (a, 1946-1950). He was an Exhibitioner, a School Prefect and Head of his Social. He played in the 1st Hockey XIs of 1949 and 1950. He sent us these News & Notes in 2001:

and then went to Princeton University, rowing in their VIII from 1950 to 1952.

After Princeton he joined the U.S. Marine Corps serving in Japan, Korea and Okinawa.

Sorsbie On 29.1.2015 Lt Cdr Robert Michael Sorsbie, RN (Rtd) (g, 1944-1949). At Radley he was a Prefect and a member of the Cricket XIs of 1948 and 1949 when he was captain.

From Princeton Alumni Weekly:

Michael Sorsbie died in January 2015 having suffered from Alzheimer’s disease for the last six to seven years of his life. Right up until his last few months, he has always shown a keen interest in Radley, with very fond memories, and where he met some lifelong friends.

At Princeton he studied politics, joined Charter Club, and rowed with a crew that came within seconds of representing the United States in the Olympics. A varsity shell is named for him.

He was a Marine for 28 years, as, he said, a “foot soldier in the Cold War.” After he retired as a full Colonel, he and his wife, Liz, were proprietors of a bedand-breakfast inn in Vermont from 1985 to 1994.

Dan was class secretary for 15 years. His PAW Class Notes were a careful, thoughtful record of what class members, mostly retired, were doing to keep class spirit alive, and he instituted the practice of sending birthday cards to every member. He said that in writing Class Notes, he “came to appreciate the talents and personalities that comprise the Great Class of 1952.”

Liz died in 2006. Dan’s devotion to her was evident in the chapter he submitted in her name shortly after her death for the 2007 collection of reminiscences of class wives. In 2012, he gave up his position as secretary and moved to Nags Head, N.C., to live with his daughter, Margaret.

Dan leaves his daughter; son John; four grandchildren; and four great-grandchildren.

The following is an abridged version of the eulogy at his thanksgiving service, held in Warnford in Hampshire on what would have been his 84th birthday: Born on 16th March 1931 in Bournemouth, eight years before the start of World War Two, Michael was the son of an army Colonel, and he and his younger brother Johnny, spent their early childhood years in India before returning to England where he went to Dunchurch Winton Hall Preparatory school followed by Radley College. He absolutely loved his time at Radley and often said that those were the happiest years of his life. He was an exceptional sportsman and for him, life was all about sport – especially cricket! He was captain of cricket at Radley for the 1949 season and was well known for his very eccentric yet very effective method of bowling off the wrong foot! As a dry bob, he played Rugby and Cricket but unusually he was also a wet bob! Although not a stylish oarsman, he was, due to his size, a very good

After my National Service, I qualified as a Chartered Surveyor (Rural) in 1957 and married Ann in 1959. We have two sons and a daughter and three grandsons. While I was at Radley, I spent two years in the Hockey XI and later enjoyed several years with the Cambridge City Club. I have been a Church Warden in a small village parish for 27 years and Church Treasurer in the three villages we have lived in for about 25 years. Since retiring in 1991, I have enjoyed more family time, gardening and charity work.

Duffield On 25.12.2014 Colonel Daniel Morrell Duffield, USMC (g, 1947-1948). He came to Radley for a year from Kent School, USA. He rowed in the 1948 Radley lst VIII

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Colonel Daniel Duffield with Tom George (2008) at a boat dedication to the 1952 Princeton crew. Dan Duffield came to Radley from Kent School for a year in 1947. Both Dan and Tom rowed for Radley and Tom rowed in the same position (4) in the 2014 Princeton crew that Dan occupied in the 1952 crew.

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cox! He was also a very good rugby player, hence the loss of several teeth and two broken ankles. He went on to play cricket for the Royal Navy in 1954 and 1955 and is mentioned in three editions of Wisden.

At the age of 18, Michael joined the Navy as an Ordinary Seaman and to use a naval expression, he went “aft through the Hawsepipe”, through the Upper Yardman Scheme, and was commissioned as an officer four years later and went to the Royal Naval College at Greenwich in 1954.

As a newly-promoted Sub. Lieutenant, he really entered into the spirit of things at the Royal Naval College. There, mindbroadening subjects such as ‘International Relations’ ‘Staff Work’ and’’ ‘Naval Tactics’, were lightened by cricket and rugby: He was an enthusiastic member of both the College’s First Teams in both these sports.

Away matches were fun because the Sub. Lieutenants tended to have pre-war cars such as Austin 7s and Morris 8 tourers and, laden with players and kit, it was a toss-up whether or not the whole team would arrive!

Michael had one of the Morris 8s. The licence plate included the letters ARK – so it was always known as “The Ark”, and on an outing to play cricket against the Royal Artillery at Shoeburyness near Southend, it was lucky that no police car spotted ‘The Ark’ pulling alongside a friend’s Morris 8 Tourer as they headed east along the A13, for the purpose of transferring a re-supply of beer bottles – all at 45 mph!”

Michael was the Chairman of the Naval Home Command Sports Committee. As a qualified sports Administrator, he managed a range of sporting activities across Southern England. He was a Member of the Royal Navy Sports Council, and acted as Flag Lieutenant to the command-in-chief, when he attended sporting occasions. Following that, he was Schools Liaison Officer in the West Midlands. He worked with the Youth Employment service and the Careers Advisory Staff. He also served on various of her majesty’s ships: Vigo, Carysfort, Chilingham, Reedham, Hermes, Sea Eagle and he was Second-in-command on HMS Grafton. In 1967 he was appointed to Command HMS Chilcompton, a Coastal minesweeper and his role was in Fishery Protection around the British Isles during a very active period.

In 1958, Michael was introduced to Christine Rutter by his friend and fellow naval officer, John Stott on a ‘blind date’ and they were married that October. They had three children, Richard, Jeremy and Philippa, and there were happy family times,

Michael Sorsbie living in Bishop’s Waltham in Hampshire, and memorable holidays in Cornwall, and on Dartmoor.

Many a happy time was had “going fishing”. One story which has often been repeated was of Michael being taken night fishing by a one-legged Cornishman. When the nets were out, the Cornishmen suddenly yelled, “Quick, Skip! The Bailiffs are coming!”

And they made a hurried getaway before this naval officer, in command of a Fishery Protection vessel, could be caught poaching!

Michael left the Navy in 1970 and, with his familiar trilby hat firmly on his head, he would head off to work in Winchester where, for eleven years he worked for Hales & Hindmarsh, as a Management Consultant.

In 1972, the family moved from Bishop’s Waltham to Fisher’s Pond where they took on the ambitious project of restoring the Malt House: a 400 year-old derelict house, which had one cold tap, and a double-seater privy. The children remember long hot summers messing around in the swimming pool, which Michael had built from a kit and lengthy sunny afternoons spent on the cricket boundary whilst Michael played village cricket. Saturday afternoons, shrouded in cigarette smoke, sitting at his roll-top desk, Michael would do the Pools, make endless “to do” lists, watching either rugby or horseracing on TV. Michael was a great horse racing fan and would frequently take the family to Newbury or Goodwood races. On one family trip to Brittany, Michael managed to persuade a restaurant owner (in his worst and loudest French accent) that he was in fact the trainer

of Red Rum! It must have been the Trilby hat which sold it to them!

In 1980, Michael and Christine separated but they always remained amicable, and somehow they were together for the day with the whole family on what would have been their golden wedding anniversary in 2008. Michael was soon introduced to his second wife, Cara Phelips whom he married in 1984 on St Michaelmas Day. At that time, Michael was then working for another firm of Management consultants in London – Higson Ping, before moving to work with the charity, Arthritis Care.

However, by this time, he and Cara were loving life in the idyllic setting of Warnford, in the Meon Valley and were both fed up with the commuting. So, Michael re-invented himself as a local self-employed handyman, and became a regular at the local preparatory school in nearby Twyford.

Michael and Cara spent a very happy twelve years together. They took several trips to Kenya where Cara was brought up and he had some amazing opportunities to fish which he was thrilled about.

To his credit, Michael stopped smoking after 40 years, he and Cara giving up together, but he was devastated when Cara died in August 1996 having developed breast cancer. At exactly that time, grandchildren arrived: Matthew, Erin, Finn, James, Reuben and Jonah. After a difficult year trying to readjust to living without Cara, he moved to Suffolk to be near her family and soon met June Tytherleigh with whom he found companionship for over ten years, enjoying golf, bridge, and cruising round the world together, and he was happy being at sea again.

However, in 2008, Michael started to show signs of early dementia, and in 2010 he went to live near to his son Jeremy in Sheffield. Initially frustrated by the limitations placed on him by the residential care home, he was caught several times climbing over the fence as he wanted to go to the pub for a quick drink and retain some independence. As he was apprehended by the staff, he would retort, “Don’t you know I’m a Naval Officer?!”

Michael died in The Glen Nursing Home in Sheffield where he was superbly looked after. It took a few weeks for him to finally ‘go’ and a famous Brian Johnston story about the cricketer Geoffrey Boycott who used to take ages making his runs came to mind...

“They have discovered a new dish in India – it is called the Boycott Curry – you still get the runs but it just takes longer”!

Michael spent the vast majority of his life not believing in God at all, but, in 2012, the old radleian 2015

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despite his progressing Alzheimer’s, he miraculously became completely lucid for about twenty minutes and made a decision to believe in Jesus as his Lord and saviour.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16).

He died very peacefully at 9am on 29th January, having had “a very good innings.”

Wightwick On 27.3.2015 Humphrey Roland Wightwick, (b, 1945-1950). After Radley he went to the College of Estate Management and became a Chartered Surveyor in London with Richard Ellis from 1959 to 1970. He had his own firm from 1970. He retired in 1998. His father, Humphrey and his brother, Nicholas, and two cousins were at Radley.

Firth On 22.11.2014 Dr David Richard Firth, (f, 1946-1950). At Radley he was a House Prefect and Hon. Sec. of the Model Aircraft Club and of the Art and Wireless Societies.

He went up to Exeter College, Oxford where he shared a room with Ted Mucklow (1945). He completed his medical training at St. Thomas’s Hospital and was a Medical Practitioner in Shaldon, Devon from 1963 to 1994. His wife, Dorothy, was at St Helen’s – they met at a Radley and St Helen’s dance – at the end of a ‘Paul Jones’ David aged 17 was dancing with Dorothy aged 15. They were married in 1957. His brother, John, who was killed in Korea, was at Radley.

Scurfield On 3.9.2013 Major John Hedley Scurfield, (d, 1946-1950). He retired from The Cheshire Regiment with the rank of Major of 1966 and was a Solicitor from 1974.

Bartlett On 6.1.2014 John Richard Bartlett, FRCS (b, 1947-1952). He studied medicine at Peterhouse, Cambridge and became a Consultant Neurosurgeon in the S.E. Thames Region. He was President of the Society of British Neurological Surgeons from 1996 to 1998. He was an Associate of the Royal Photographic Society. His brother-in-law, Guy Greaves, was at Radley.

From The British Journal of Neurosurgery: A tribute to a distinguished and much loved neurosurgeon who worked through a period of extraordinary change.

John Richard Bartlett was born in Saffron Walden in 1934. Aged ten he was given a book The Boy Electrician which led to a lifelong passion for science. His grandmother

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gave him the plates and box cameras used by his grandfather Sir John Kirk during explorations in Africa with Livingstone in the 1860s. This started a lifelong interest in photography.

In 1947 he went to Radley College. There he considered becoming an engineer, but as his grandfather, both parents, and an aunt were doctors, and an uncle, Sir Almroth Wright, was engaged in medical research, he was led inexorably to medicine. At Radley he was introduced to rowing, his main sport during school and college years.

He read Natural Sciences at Peterhouse College, Cambridge and completed his clinical training at St Mary’s Hospital Medical School, qualifying in 1958. He was appointed House Surgeon to Sir Arthur Porritt.

John decided to pursue a career in neurosurgery after completing a junior post at the Midland Centre for Neurosurgery, working for Dr. Bickerstaff and Mr. Small, and a nine month spell in The Birmingham Accident Hospital with Prof. Gissane and Mr. London. He obtained his FRCS in 1966.

His neurosurgical training started with Mr. Johnson and Mr. Dutton in Manchester, where he was highly influenced by the very positive and active operative teaching. Mr. Johnson had great confidence in John’s surgical abilities. This was demonstrated when during a period of absence from the unit he asked John to look after his private patients. He then moved to the Radcliffe Infirmary, Oxford to complete his training with Mr. Pennybacker and Mr. Potter.

The senior neurosurgeon at the Neurosurgical Unit in the Brook Hospital, Woolwich, Mr. Geoffrey Knight retired. His main interest was the treatment of affective disorders, especially depressive illness with a modified frontal leucotomy technique, performing a subcaudate tractotomy using stereotactically placed Yttrium-99 seeds.

While the consultant post on offer was not entirely to his liking, Mr. Pennybacker encouraged him to “go for it”, confident that John would, with his excellent surgical skills soon do the sort of neurosurgery he really wanted to pursue! So in January 1971 he was appointed to the Brook and started work alongside Mr. George Northcroft and Mr. John Gibbs.

John having been one of the first neurosurgeons from the UK to go and study microsurgery with Professor Yasargil in Zurich brought microsurgery to the Brook.

He also developed the use of the cavitron ultrasonic surgical aspirator (CUSA) and laser, relatively new to neurosurgical practice, in his tumour surgery. He remained

committed to psychosurgery and with Dr. Paul Bridges, a consultant psychiatrist, published extensively. This surgical practice aroused much controversy, but despite sometimes extremely aggressive hostility from those determined to see this work stopped, they remained strong advocates for the patients, all refractory to every other method of treatment. They knew this type of treatment was a “last resort”. However they saw and showed that it helped many to be freed from institutional care. Their legacy – the procedure was a factor in the development of the functional neurosurgery of today.

John received the Bronze award in the 1988 Blithe and BMA Film and Video Competition, for his video ‘Psychosurgery: A Last Resort’, a stimulus for the BBC2 QED programme broadcast in March 1990.

“JRB” trained numerous doctors. His qualities of enthusiasm, honesty, clarity of thought, desire for high standards and commitment to training influenced many trainees in the development of their careers.

He engendered respect and affection from all in the Unit – irrespective of position.

John was an excellent clinician, in the style of a good neurologist, taking a careful and probing “history”, really listening to the patient, and examining them sensitively and carefully – looking for little clues, however small. Policies and protocols were not for him! “Why go to medical school unless it’s to learn to understand the natural history and pathology of disease and above all think!” But of course managing complex conditions involves far more than this. “You can make a diagnosis, but what are you going to do about it?” he would often say.

With his absolute passion for science in its broadest sense and his supreme logic he would work out from “basic principles” the best way to solve the task at hand (a message he would frequently convey to his own children helping them with homework!), all done under a beguiling veil of calm kindness, and empathy. He would weigh up with precision the optimum treatment for each individual, fully taking into account the real and often forgotten limitations of modern neurosurgery at its best, and also the limitations that might exist for the patient.

He was involved in several major publications on the use of CT scanning in its infancy, the Brook Unit having one of the very first CT scanners in the world.

Economic evaluation and implications of the CT scanner were undertaken, resulting in two papers in the British Medical Journal with, amongst its authors, John Banham

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(subsequently knighted and later the Director General of the Confederation of British industry). Further publications on MRI scanning demonstrated its huge potential and the revolution it would cause, particularly in spinal imaging and diagnosis. John’s visionary fascination for modern technology was exemplified as computers became available. He spent many happy hours with his four children, trainees and colleagues, learning to manage systems and develop programs. This resulted in the computerization of the Neurosurgical Unit clinical records system well in advance of other centres.

Senior colleagues recognized John as an outstanding surgeon. His results (regular audits were carried out) spoke for themselves. His anaesthetic colleagues loved working for him because there were no “unexpected moments of excitement”.

As he would say “if things seem exciting it always strikes me that perhaps something has gone wrong”. As a trainee one would think this was easy, just as we all do when we watch any world-class musician or sportsman at work!

For much of his career there was political indecision and uncertainty over the future of the Brook Unit. Many options were considered, some in great detail, producing considerable tension between the various parties involved. John fought with total honesty for what he believed was right for his department, neurosurgery and above all his patients. He gained the respect of those he fought.

Almost 30 years after the initial Ministry of Health meeting in 1967 to rationalize neurosurgical provision for the Metropolitan Regions the Brook Unit was amalgamated with the Guy’s/Maudsley Unit within King’s College Hospital in 1995 to form a single Neuroscience Centre for SE London, East Sussex and Kent.

Once established in King’s, as the senior consultant neurosurgeon he showed great leadership and was determined to make the unit flourish, despite all the past conflict and bitter last minute decision to cancel the construction of a new purpose built unit that had been fully designed and should have opened on the Maudsley site in 1995.

He rapidly engaged with his new colleagues to help create major services for pituitary and acoustic neuroma surgery.

John was elected President of the Society of British Neurological Surgeons (1996-98) at a time when there was much need for change. He was instrumental in revising the Society’s constitution and

From the Royal Photographic Society tribute:

John Bartlett structure to make it fit for purpose as a rapidly modernizing specialty within the Health Service. He was a good President – he listened, showed fine judgment and great determination.

He became an Associate of the Royal Photographic Society in 1993 when he presented a panel of pictures depicting daily life in the Brook Hospital. In retirement photography became his main hobby. Many people will remember him with his camera around his neck and seeing exhibitions of his work, often carried out on holidays in “remote” places. He was President of the Bromley Camera Club for its centenary year and London Organizer for the Royal Photographic Society. He always had time for anyone who was starting out on their photographic adventure and would give what help he could, teaching all four of his children use of the camera, the darkroom, the principles of light and composition, and being rewarded by three of them taking up professional careers in photography and film.

John Bartlett was a special person. He was first and foremost a committed doctor who displayed a passion for the welfare and care of his patients and secondly a neurosurgeon.

He fulfilled that latter role with vision and determination, tempered by great modesty, grace and humility.

His sad loss as a result of unrelenting prostate cancer can never be filled; supported throughout by his devoted wife Cilla, a pillar of strength to him at every stage of his glowing career, and his deeply loved four children and grandchildren.

John had a long association with the Royal Photographic Society and was an active member of the Medical Imaging Group.

John had a keen interest in photography from a young age and his subjects were wide-ranging, from portraits of his own children to abstracts, landscapes and the wider world. He also enjoyed medical photography alongside his career as a neurosurgeon.

He photographed his colleagues at work and in 1993 attained his ARPS with a panel depicting the daily life at the Brook Hospital where he was in charge of the Neurosurgical Unit.

In retirement, John continued to enjoy photography as London Regional organiser of the RPS and as programme secretary and president of the Bromley Camera Club. He also had a number of successful solo exhibitions of his work in Blackheath, South London.

John was always full of enthusiasm and encouragement for all photographers and he passed on his love of the medium to his children, three out of four of them have made their careers in photography and film, a testament to his inspirational example and expert tutelage.

From his wife, Cilla, about John’s time at Radley: “I remembered last night two other reasons that Radley was important for John. First the fantastic carpentry teacher and well stocked workshops where John spent many happy hours; second the stage photography that he perfected during his time at Radley and then carried on to St Mary’s. I think it must have been at Radley that he had a friend who had access to unexploded incendiary bombs from which they took out the magnesium strips which were used to provide the flares for the stage photograph, as he was probably using plate cameras. He was also able to keep his motorbike in somebody’s shed. Probably he did some academic work as well – he certainly passed Latin O level about which he was proud.”

Coburn On 19.4.2015 Ronayn John Michael Coburn, (e, 1947-1951). He worked for British American Tobacco for many years. His son, Thomas, was at Radley. the old radleian 2015

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Matt Cardy / Getty Images

Kerr On 5.10.2014 Andrew Philip Kerr, (d, 1947-1951). His brother, John, was at Radley.

From The Daily Telegraph: Andrew Kerr was an ex-public school dropout whose New Age idealism inspired the original 1971 ‘Glastonbury Fayre’ Andrew Kerr, who has died aged 80, was an Old Radleian drop-out, New Ager and guiding spirit behind the “Glastonbury Fayre” of 1971, an event which subsequently morphed into the world’s most successful music festival.

The year before, Kerr had moved to Pilton, near Glastonbury, to indulge his fascination with the Arthurian and Druidic legends associated with Glastonbury Tor. In 1971 he rented Worthy Farm, overlooking the Vale of Avalon, whose owner, dairy farmer Michael Eavis, had put on a small pop festival in 1970 in an attempt to repay his farm’s overdraft. The festival had chalked up a substantial loss, leaving Eavis having to pay the £500 fee for his headline act, Marc Bolan, in instalments from his monthly milk cheque. However, something about the farm’s setting amid a confluence of ley lines inspired Kerr to think that he might do better.

Together with Arabella Churchill, the “wild-child” granddaughter of Sir Winston, Kerr promised to pay off Eavis’s debts if he would let them put on a “free” festival around the 1971 summer solstice. While Arabella invested £4,000 in a vast “psychic pyramid” stage built by a man who thought up the design in his sleep, Kerr set aside an area on the site as a landing pad for flying saucers and doused for ley lines to determine the most auspicious location for the stage (somewhere between Sagittarius and Capricorn).

The Glastonbury Fayre “manifesto” promised “a fair in the medieval tradition” and described the occasion as an “ecological experiment”, designed to “tap the universe” and stimulate “the Earth’s nervous system”.

It spoke of spiritual reawakening, Joseph of Arimathea and his nephew Jesus, and the zodiacal significance of the Vale of Avalon.

David Bowie, Hawkwind and Traffic agreed to headline for nothing; free rice and lentils were paid for by Jean Shrimpton; news of the event spread by word of mouth — there was no advertising, no tickets, no programme. People were still turning up in August asking when it was going to happen.

Held over five days, the event attracted a crowd of 7,000 and was, by most standards, hopelessly chaotic. The Grateful Dead failed

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Andrew Kerr helps launch biodegradable tent pegs at Glastonbury in 2008. The eco-friendly tent pegs are made from natural material derived from wheat and potatoes – over 1 million tent pegs were distributed to counteract the dangers to the farm’s livestock of metal tent pegs being left behind in the festival’s fields. to show; neighbours complained about the noise and the mess; there were reports of illness caused by the failure of some festivalgoers to use the earth latrines. Somerset’s television news show, Points West, sent its reporter, John Craven, who told how “straight society” was “horrified by the free

love-making, fertility rites, naked dancing and drug-taking” going on.

“There was a lot of LSD about,” Michael Eavis conceded, “and people were freaking out, wandering into the village wearing only a top hat.” He also found his festivalorganising colleagues “slightly unhinged”:

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“When I had a disagreement with them they threw a load of Tarot cards on the kitchen table. The message read: ‘No one with the name of Michael should be involved with the festival.’ And I said: ‘Hang on a minute, isn’t this my farm?’ ” Yet the show was judged to have been a rip-roaring success, showing how, as one fayre-goer put it, “a music festival could really break through the conventional barriers that regulate behaviour and which prevent us from really being ourselves”.

By the end of proceedings the police had recorded only two arrests, while, despite the mind-altering substances available, only one person, a naked druid, had been sectioned under the Mental Health Act. For the next seven years those involved went their separate ways. Michael Eavis went back to milking cows; Arabella Churchill returned to London, where she ran a restaurant for squatters, later moving to Wales to farm. Kerr headed north, with his Danish partner Jytte, to Scotland where they squatted in a deserted croft, had two children and endeavoured to become selfsufficient. When, after six years, Jytte left him for another man, Kerr drifted back south and worked, variously, as a dry-stone waller, as a worker in the Divine Light Mission of Guru Maharaji, and as a crumbling-cliff-fixer and scriptwriter in Los Angeles.

What saved Glastonbury was its fans.

Although no more real festivals were held until the end of the 1970s, some pilgrims still turned up to Worthy Farm in June every year, holding their own, impromptu gatherings. In 1978, Eavis helped them to construct a makeshift stage and supplied electricity; the following year, inspired to try again, he secured a bank loan and invited the organisers of the 1971 event to have another go.

In June 1979, 12,000 people paid £5 apiece to see Steve Hillage, Sky and Peter Gabriel. But the festival made a huge loss and Eavis decided to take over the running himself. He proved to be an extraordinarily good organiser, turning Glastonbury into a huge and highly profitable annual event.

Kerr remained involved with the festival, on and off, and at the 2011 event marked the 40th anniversary of the Pyramid stage with his own “Spirit of 71” stage.

Andrew Kerr was born on November 29 1933 at Ewell, Surrey. His father was a career naval officer and a descendant of the 6th Marquis of Lothian; his mother was from a Shropshire landowning family. His childhood was spent in Oxfordshire where

his parents began to farm after the Second World War. After education at Radley College, where – undiagnosed with dyslexia, he struggled and was ridiculed as unintelligent – and National Service as a stores assistant in the Royal Navy, Kerr had a go at advertising, worked as a receptionist with the Automobile Association and as a nurseryman, before landing a job as personal assistant and researcher to Sir Winston Churchill’s son Randolph, who was writing the official multi-volume biography of his father. When he turned up at his new employer’s country house in Suffolk, he was greeted with the words: “Mr Kerr, I’m afraid I was rather drunk last night and don’t really know why you’re here.”

So began what became a genuine friendship, during which Kerr travelled all over the world with his employer, becoming great friends with his daughter Arabella, though he found less in common with his son Winston, who dismissed him as “intolerably hip” (the description gave Kerr the title for his autobiography, published in 2011). As well as helping Randolph on his biography, Kerr’s duties included helping to provide a bolt-hole for John Profumo in 1963, standing in when the cook was away, fixing the boiler and acting as Churchill’s drinking companion: “He used to drink gin before lunch, wine with the meal and then watered whisky for the rest of the day, interrupted by wine at supper.”

Kerr’s preference was for vodka and tonic, supplemented by the odd spliff.

When Randolph died in 1968, Kerr worked briefly for Yorkshire Television before returning to London where he found his niche in the grey area between bohemian hippiedom and high society. He hung out with the Grateful Dead, indulged a fascination with UFOs and experimented with LSD, but was also a regular guest at luncheon parties hosted by Lady Diana Cooper. At one of these he shared his theories of how the supernatural events in the Bible were carried out by extraterrestrials with the person next to him – Princess Margaret; “I think she must have guessed I was a bit high,” he reflected.

It was a visit to the Isle of Wight Festival in 1970 that inspired the idea for the Glastonbury Fayre. Appalled by the rampant profiteering, he decided to try and put pop culture to constructive purposes by staging a free festival at Stonehenge. But the plans had to be ditched after Jimi Hendrix, who had agreed to top the bill, died following an overdose of sleeping tablets. A few months

later Kerr approached Michael Eavis.

In the 1980s, as well as helping out at Glastonbury, Kerr worked, variously, in special effects at Pinewood, as maître d’ in a restaurant, as a dry stone wall builder and yacht repairer and as a charter yacht skipper in the Mediterranean.

In 1992 another sudden surge of idealism saw him back in the West Country putting on the first (and only) Whole Earth Show in Dorset, promoting organic farming and sustainable technologies such as compost funerals.

Andrew Kerr is survived by his two children.

Andrew Kerr, born November 29 1933, died October 6 2014 Bulley On 22.1.2015 Philip Marshall Bulley, (c, 1948-1953). At Radley he was an Entrance Scholar and a member of the Tennis VI. He went up to Corpus Christi College, Cambridge and worked in the Stock Exchange from 1958 to 1960. He became a Director of subsidiaries of the News of the World Organisation from 1961 and Willis Faber from 1970. He was a company rescue consultant from 1971 to 1975 and with Theodore Goddard from 1976.

Cooper On 27.4.2015 David Edwin Gordon (Deggie) Cooper, (e, 1948-1953).

He became a Stockbroker and a Member of the Stock Exchange, working for many years for Brewin Dolphin & Co. His father, Geoffrey, and his sons, Myles, James and Guy, were at Radley.

David Edwin Gordon (Deggie) Cooper the old radleian 2015

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Saunders On 28.2.2012 James Duncan Patrick Saunders, (b, 1948-1953).

His wife, Augusta Saunders, writes: Jim was proud to be a Radleian, and talked very happily of his time with the beagles and the sailing club, Christopher Ellis and the start of the Ocean Youth Club, sailing up and down the channel, out of sight of land, until the rowdy elements in the crew of disadvantaged boys settled down and behaved themselves. He didn’t excel in academic work, so went into the Royal Marines, where he served for 16 years, leaving in 1969 just before the Northern Ireland troubles started – his Commando were the first to go there.

Jim took his wife and two daughters to Western Australia to join his sister and her family and start a farm. They bought a “new land farm” which was all bush, and started to clear it. Unfortunately his wife didn’t like the life and went home after 8 months.

I turned up in 1974 on a trip round Oz and got stuck. We have two sons, survived farming for 30 years developing the bush into productive farmland until clearing bans were imposed, and then bought a small farm near Albany for semi-retirement. We hoped to spend more time with our horses, having bred several good Australian Stock Horses with the Ringwould prefix, including Ringwould Jaguar who gave us a great deal of pleasure in eventing.

Our elder son and his wife wanted to make goats’ cheese, so Jim and I took on the marketing, at which he was very successful, a distinctive figure at the market stall with his Akubra and gentlemanly air.

Unfortunately he contracted lung cancer in 2011 and died just after his 77th birthday.

He wasn’t good at keeping in touch with people and over 40 years in Australia meant that there was little point. I don’t know why I’ve told you about him, I think it was a way of saying thank you to Radley for the part it played in giving me such a lovely husband.

Allday On 2.3.2015 William (Bill) John Allday, (d, 1949-1954). At Radley he was an Exhibitioner and an Honorary Scholar. He went up to St. John’s College, Cambridge and then to the University of British Columbia.

He was a Graduate Trainee with John Thompson Ltd., Wolverhampton from 1957 to 1959 and then worked for Aluminium Laboratories in Kingston, Ontario, from 1961 to 1967. From 1967 to 1969 he was with the Olin Matheson Metals Research Centre, New Haven, Ct. In 1969 he established and was

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Geoffrey Cox Managing Director of Allday Aluminium Ltd. which later became Fairey Allday Marine Ltd. of which has was Technical Director until 1983. From 1984 to 1986 he was a Consultant Engineer before becoming Manager of the Wolfson Unit for Marine Technology and Industrial Aerodynamics. He was a Fellow of the Royal Institution of Naval Architects, a Fellow of the Welding Institute and a Chartered Engineer. His brother, Christopher, was at Radley.

Mizen On 2.7.2015 Paul Edmund Mizen, (g, 1949-1954). At Radley he was a Junior (Otway) Scholar and winner of the Wharton Prize on three occasions. He won a Scholarship to read Music at St. John’s College, Cambridge. He became Director of Music at the Cedars Grammar School in Leighton Buzzard. In 2002 he told us: I am fortunately still working for the Hampshire County Music Service as a peripatetic Keyboard/Piano teacher. I now teach year 3s and 4s and, I must say, I enjoy this. It is manic at times because you have to teach 8 students in an hour and if any of them take an Associated Board exam, you have a job on. Eight into sixty doesn’t go many times as dear Jo Eason used to try to tell me. I kept in touch, until she died, with Violet Blofeld, my violin teacher at Christ Church and Radley, who coincidentally came to live just down the road from me. As a result I met up with her son Michael and his wife Vi. I have got quite a lot of her violin music which I use quite often.

Cox On 2.6.2015 Geoffrey Martin Hayter Cox, (e, 1950-1955). At Radley he was an Exhibitioner. He left in 1955 to do National Service in the Army. When demobbed he went to Corpus Christi College, Oxford where he studied Economics.

On leaving University he joined an economics consultancy firm and became the MD. This firm was subsequently acquired

by Price Waterhouse and as part of the transfer arrangement Geoffrey joined their European and overseas Management Team which meant he was involved in economic consultancy in various locations around the globe including New Guinea, Sarawak, St. Helena and the Falkland Islands. Geoffrey, a bachelor, was active in retirement and was a Friend of Chichester Cathedral, Kew Gardens and St Anne’s Church in Kew where he lived and administered the charity ‘Equipment for Independent Living’ from his home.

Eulogy for Geoffrey by Lucy Wheeler: Geoffrey met my father on their first day at Oxford in 1956 and gradually became an integral part of our family. He was Best Man at my parents’ wedding in 1964 and with us 50 years later to celebrate their Golden Wedding Anniversary last September. He was part of every Christmas, Easter and family birthday, and with us for years of sandy summer holidays all around the coast of England and Wales. A frequent visitor to my parents’ house I would ask Geoffrey

Obituaries

where to put things away in the kitchen of my own childhood home. He was an extra father to my sister and me, and a grandfather to our children. His absence will be with us every time we are together.

Geoffrey had strong and enduring relationships with so many people in his life as he was a loyal, considerate and attentive friend who did not allow the frequent travel and time pressures of a busy life to cause him to neglect his friends.

As children we cherished the postcards he sent us from every business trip to the four corners of the globe. He cared deeply about those close to him and for humanity in general, particularly those less fortunate than himself. He worked tirelessly for decades as the Trustee and Treasurer of a small charity called Independent Living supporting people living with disabilities to keep their dignity and independence for as long as possible. He always saw the individual living with a disability, not a disabled person. A lifelong Guardian reader (I think most of the copies are still in his flat) he did not take the easy route of railing against social injustice over a pint but followed his convictions into action. Politically engaged until his death he joined the Liberal Democrats, marched against the war in Iraq, supported a huge raft of charities very generously for decades and sponsored a bursaried place at the public school he had been privileged to attend. He was possibly the oldest person lugging huge quantities of leaflets door to door for the Liberal Democrats in the last general election. Trained as an accountant and financially astute he was a passionate advocate for taxation to support an equitable, decent minimum standard of living through decades when that was akin to swearing in public as parties across the political spectrum scrambled to promise the electorate they would never raise taxes.

Despite decades of living in Cairo and London he never stopped noticing people sleeping rough and was horrified by the obscenity of foodbanks and malnourished children in a London of private helicopters and investment mansions. He understood that our worth as human beings is not measured by salary levels or possessions but by the choices we make and the actions we take during our lives.

And he knew how to live. He was physically and mentally active until the last day of his life. He took long walks in his beloved Kew Gardens every day and wrestled cryptic crosswords into submission. He was passionate about

Patrick Gowers cricket and football and rugby and was looking forward to the Ashes and the Rugby World Cup. He loved Kew, music, art, history and good food and drink (although astonishingly he never learnt to cook past student specials) and had the get up and go to organise opportunities to partake in all of them. On our last walk together, the weekend before he died, I told him how pleased I would be if I could be like him when I was 79.

And being Geoffrey, he just smiled.

Gowers On 30.12.2014 Dr (William) Patrick Gowers, (a, 1950-1954). He was an Exhibitioner and Junior Scholar at Radley.

He won a Scholarship to Clare College, Cambridge.

From The Daily Telegraph: Bafta-winning composer whose successes included a celebrated Sherlock Holmes series and Smiley’s People.

Patrick Gowers, who has died aged 78, wrote the music for the popular adaptation of the Sherlock Holmes stories that was produced

by Granada Television and starred Jeremy Brett as Holmes.

Apart from Rosalie Williams, who played Mrs Hudson, and Brett himself, Gowers was the only person involved in all 41 episodes, and his music and skilful artistry did as much as Brett’s remarkable performance to give the series its memorable quality.

If at times the music sounded like the work of Bach, that was no accident: Gowers was particularly passionate about the composer’s

style, and some of his spiritual works had a Bach-like contrapuntal ingenuity.

Some of his religious music emerged from the Holmes series. For example, his motet Libera Me, which was written in a 16th-century style, came from the episode “The Priory School”. His other church music includes Viri Galilaei, an anthem depicting Christ’s Ascension that was written for the consecration of Richard Harries as Bishop of Oxford in 1987.

Gowers’s musical language was also influenced by jazz harmony and rhythm, though it was not overtly jazzy, as well as by the French Impressionists. His approach is best heard in works such as the Toccata (1970), written for the organist Simon Preston at the Cheltenham Festival, which includes a series of Count Basie chords (unfortunately described in the programme notes as “Basic” chords when the work was first heard at the Festival Hall); 18 years later he added a Fugue.

The tiniest details mattered to Gowers.

For example, in “The Final Problem”, an episode of Holmes, the bass line consists of the first two phrases of the series’ theme tune played at half speed, something that almost nobody would notice, but which for him was very important.

William Patrick Gowers was born in Islington, north London, on May 5 1936; among his forebears were Sir William Gowers, the eminent 19th-century neurologist, and Sir Ernest Gowers, the author of Plain Words. He was brought up in Oxford and Dorchester-on-Thames, and educated at Radley, which he disliked because its demands for conformity did not suit him. the old radleian 2015

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His musical talent blossomed at Clare College, Cambridge, where he became entranced by the music of Marty Paich, the West Coast jazz arranger. As music director of the Footlights he wrote the score for Share My Lettuce, a musical by Bamber Gascoigne that starred Maggie Smith and Kenneth Williams and was seen in London in 1957.

While completing his PhD on the work of Erik Satie, he taught several Cambridge students, including John Rutter.

In 1964 he was music director for Peter Brook’s stage production of Marat/Sade, in which he was required to appear on stage as an inmate of a Parisian lunatic asylum. He arranged that he would play the harmonium and the tuba simultaneously, thereby making himself irreplaceable. He was reluctant to transfer to Broadway with the show, so asked for his fee to be doubled – it was, so he had to go. The film version, in 1967, starred Glenda Jackson and Ian Richardson.

Later Gowers was commissioned to write the music for Tony Richardson’s adaptation of Hamlet (1969); The Virgin and the Gypsy (1970); A Bigger Splash (1973), about David Hockney; and Stevie (1978), about the poet Stevie Smith and starring Glenda Jackson, on which Gowers based the Stevie concerto that he wrote for John Williams, who was heard in the film.

In addition to his composing, Gowers worked as jazz critic for The Financial Times, director of the electronic music studio at Dartington and as assistant conductor of Bill Russo’s London Jazz Orchestra. He also played keyboards for the New Swingle Singers.

For most of the 1970s Gowers was short of work and struggled to make a living.

However, in 1978 he was asked to write the music for a television series of Zola’s novel Thérèse Raquin. Simon Langton, the director, went on to use him for I Remember Nelson and Smiley’s People, starring Alec Guinness, in 1982. For those, and for an adaptation of The Woman in White, he won the 1983 Bafta for best original television music.

There were several series of Sherlock Holmes, and by the mid-1990s the royalties were sufficient for Gowers to concentrate largely on choral and organ works. He was midway through writing a large-scale work for the Three Choirs Festival at Gloucester in 2001 – the best piece he had ever written, he said – when he suffered a stroke. He did not write another note.

Patrick Gowers married Caroline Maurice, a piano teacher, in 1961; she survives him with their son and their two daughters.

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Gunn On 13.3.2015 Robin Peter William Gunn, (d, 1950-1955). Brother of A.W.Gunn.

1956-58 His brother, Bill (1959), writes: My brother Robin Gunn (b 15.7.1937, d 13.3.2015) was born at the American Mission Hospital in Moulmein, Burma.

His early childhood was rudely interrupted when the Japanese invaded in January 1942: Moulmein lay squarely in their path and one of his lasting memories was a nightmare drive up-country to Mandalay along roads crowded with refugees, travelling at night to avoid the fighters strafing the roads. He knew something was badly wrong when his hat blew off in the wind and the driver refused to stop.

Evacuated to India with our mother, where he spent the rest of the war while our father fought through the Burma campaign with the Fourteenth Army, Robin returned to prep school in England in 1946, and came to Radley in 1950, prospering sufficiently for my parents to have no hesitation in sending me to follow in his footsteps in 1959.

My impression is that Robin, known as ‘Ben’ to contemporaries, was a popular and active member of Gardiner’s (D) Social. In his final year he became a Junior Prefect.

He made the 3rd XI cricket and 3rd XV rugger, being captain of the latter in 1955.

Two other achievements were pointers to the future: he won the Barton Cup and went on to become CSM in the Corps, and was Hon. Sec of the Reel Club. Shortly after leaving Radley he became a co-founder of the Poughill Reel Club, a neighbouring village to our family farm in Cornwall. He became an accomplished player of the accordion, with reels included in the repertoire.

On leaving school he was called up for National Service, was selected for officer training and passed out from Eaton Hall as a subaltern with the Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry (DCLI), his service with the regiment including a period in Germany.

Apart from the rigours of basic training, National Service was an episode he thoroughly enjoyed and in which he took great pride, though resisting the subsequent offer of a regular commission.

Returning to civilian life in 1958, Robin took various jobs in the city before joining the John Lewis Partnership, where he was to stay for fourteen years, his final post before leaving in 1978 being Merchandising Director of Waitrose. He then became successively Managing Director of Burlington’s, Managing Director of Jean

Robin Gunn (centre) Reeling at Radley, Gaudy 1955 Sorelle, Deputy Chairman of Ryman Ltd. and finally, Operations Director of Goodson Lighting before retiring from his business career in 1992.

These various posts reflect a flair for retailing and, more specifically, for interior design, to which he was able to give full rein when he settled on his final, and truest, vocation, that of restoring country houses. To this he was to bring a meticulous attention to detail and style, not only producing technical drawings of extraordinary complexity but seeing them take shape in a workshop he filled to his own specifications with state-of-theart machines, and in which he found an enthusiastic and equally competent partner in his wife Pamela. Their house in Somerset was the fourth in a series on which they lavished care and attention, and it is a minor consolation that he was able to see this final project to fruition before he died.

Robin had a number of challenges to face in his life. His first marriage ended in divorce, and his younger son Alex contracted cancer and died before leaving school at the age of eighteen. Happily these were offset by a loving second marriage to Pamela, who was to prove a selfless supporter and carer when Robin contracted PLS. (primary lateral sclerosis), a rare variant of motor neurone disease (MND), in the late 1990s. Few reading Robin’s letters or emails from this time, always expressive, never short of wry humour and wit, would have had any notion of the physical hardships with which he contended. His inner courage and resilience were truly remarkable.

Obituaries

Moat On 16.9.2014 Roger John Frothingham Moat, (a, 1950-1955).

From The Guardian: Poet who co-founded the creative-writing venture Arvon.

Communication technology was developing in the 2000s and Robin became a proficient user of the ‘LightWriter’, an illuminated screen with a keyboard for those unable to speak. Much to the admiration of the technicians who developed them, Robin pushed successive models of these machines to their limits, developing his own personal shorthand comprising over a thousand abbreviations. These bore his hallmark humour. If he wanted the screen to say ‘hopeless’ (eight letters), for example, he would type in ‘BT’ (two).’Useless’ (seven letters) was ‘DEFRA’ (five) and so on. The LightWriter was a godsend as his illness developed, and enabled him to engage in lively electronic conversations with his grandchildren which they greatly enjoyed.

Robin had many enthusiasms in his life.

Golf was one. Another, abiding passion was for sports cars, especially MGs. His favourite of all was a cherished MGA ‘Twin-Cam’ which he drove in several races at Thruxton and other circuits. Among his papers is a thrilling account of competing for the first time at Silverstone, both driver and car at full stretch. This was my brother at his happiest.

Robin died in The Musgrove Hospital, Taunton on 13th March 2015, leaving a wife, Pamela, his remaining son James and two grandchildren, Timothy and Hannah. A Sister in charge of his ward that night told us that she had seen many hundreds of patients come and go in the course of her career, but there were a select few she would never forget. Robin Gunn was one of them. ‘He was a very brave man’, she said, ‘and we loved him’. As an epitaph for my brother, I don’t think her words can be bettered.

Andrew Lawson

Robin Gunn

A chance meeting in a Berkshire pub in 1963 between two young poets, John Fairfax and John Moat, began a friendship that was to lead, with the support of Ted Hughes and of Moat’s wife Antoinette, to the founding of the Arvon Foundation. Its motto, “The fire in the flint shows not till it be struck”, perfectly exemplifies the pair’s basic assumption that every individual is capable of imaginative self-expression.

Thousands have since attended Arvon’s writing courses with experienced writers in the countryside and been inspired, not by the promise of outer success, but by a space in which to flicker safely. Exhaustion, pain and disappointment are part of the mix: writing is life.

This integrity is exemplified by Moat’s own life, always fully “alive to the mercurial”, as he puts it in his memoir Anyway – written in the months before his death at the age of 78. A compelling account of a writer’s

inner and outer struggle, it is presided over

by Mercury, or Hermes, rustling the leaves behind his writing hut and mischievously serving up encounters – both real and psychic – in a fused complexity of chance and destiny.

Moat was born in India. His mother, Norrie (née Fenwick) was a New Zealander, in her son’s words “her soul ready-broken to a bridle of poetry”. His father, Jeff, an officer in the Green Howards, died on Second World War service in Malaya when John was five.

Radley College provided the nowasthmatic boy with the refuge of the art room; “a gift” was what his natural optimism termed a bout of paratyphoid while a student of English at Exeter College, Oxford – it saved him from being sent down. His gap year had been spent studying with the artist Edmond Kapp in France – after which he would concentrate on writing, although in later life he produced hundreds of gem-like paintings and drawings, some on 350-yearold Tibetan paper.

Determined to write his first novel, and given lodgings in a tower on the Isles of Scilly owned by a married Russian princess, he had a passionate affair with the latter that led to depression, a breakdown, and appalling treatment by an ECT-wielding

John Moat, poet, novelist, painter and co-founder of the Arvon Foundation pictured at Endsleigh the old radleian 2015

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in both painting and words from Blake, Palmer, Keats, David Jones or Yeats, never sags into whimsy. In his sequence Welcombe Overture, devastating poems on a stillborn child are stronger for being tugged against “joy”: And the midwife’s reply. ‘Yes dear, I’m afraid she is.’ She Rang. Someone brought two cups of tea. A daughter then. Then those were a woman’s hands I saw tug at the folds …

John Moat’s painting ‘Red Amaryllis’ Harley Street consultant. By now Moat had bought Crenham Mill on the Devon coast near Hartland, semi-derelict and with no running water or electricity – “a brimming vacancy” in a steep wooded valley. Groping back to equilibrium, he took a job teaching in an eccentric prep school near Hermitage, in Berkshire.

The banal routine and Fairfax’s friendship began their healing work, followed by a near-fatal bout of asthma in the Mill that proved to be the last, a suitable precursor to the moment on the Hartland cliffs when he knew that writing was to be “the path”’ and this place its home: the notched stretch of coastline, the lane, the owl-haunted oaks and the “blessed spot” of his garden writing hut.

His marriage to Antoinette in 1965 showed signs of Hermes’s involvement: both were exactly the same age when their fathers were killed in the war, leaving unprocessed grief. Their 50 years together at the Mill passed far from London’s literary behemoths, yet were profoundly influential through the setting up, not only of Arvon, but of the Yarner Trust and Tandem, an alliance of teachers and artists – mingling ecological sustainability with the creative life – and the joint conception of the universal peace prayer with their neighbour Satish Kumar: “Lead me from death to Life, from falsehood to Truth …”

Moat’s novels and poems chart this seemingly enchanted existence with glittering honesty. Imagination, central to the romantic vision that he inherited

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As much as his six volumes of poetry, his novels – from Heorot (1968) to Blanche (2014) – flit through the magical half-light of Shakespeare’s romances, impelled by Moat’s Jungian belief in the reconciliation of the conscious and unconscious, of our feminine and masculine natures. He was not only exceptionally generous, marked in tall, lanky person by what he called his “Beano grin”, but alchemically effervescent to the end: to illustrate his sequence Hermes and Magdalen (2004), he took up etching at the age of 65 and mastered it brilliantly.

Few writers have been so open to the “gift” of the imagination. He modestly regarded himself as a conduit, the leat to the inexhaustible flow.

What he recognised, and what scintillates in his works (including his superb guides to writing), is that much of the time we must not struggle at it, but allow it to enter on winged tiptoe.

As he put it in a private letter to me: “A magic happens … we give ourselves to the commonplaces of the reverie and then at the end look up and find ourselves duped into the light.”

He is survived by Antoinette; their son, Ben, and daughter, Elsbeth; three grandchildren, Anya, Luka and Yuri; and a sister, Sally.

Roger John Moat, poet, born 11 September 1936; died 16 September 2014 Martin On 24.11.2014 (William) Alan Martin, (f, 1951-1956). After National Service he joined Allen & Overy as an Articled Clerk. He became a Solicitor in 1965 and, apart from a year with Wilkinson & Grist in Hong Kong, was with Allen & Overy until 1971. From 1972 to 1991 he was Assistant Divisional Solicitor with BT.

Birdwood On 11.7.2015 The Rt. Hon. Lord Mark William Ogilvie Birdwood, (d, 19521957). At Radley he won the Adam Fox Poetry Prize. His cousin, George, was at Radley.

From The Daily Telegraph: Businessman and Tory peer who drove to Nepal as a student.

Lord Birdwood, who has died aged 76, was, during a long and varied life, a soldier, advertising copywriter, headhunter, property developer, lay preacher and independently minded Tory peer.

In the House of Lords, Birdwood’s area of expertise was defence. On one occasion James Callaghan took him to one side and told him that his knowledge of the subject was extraordinary.

That knowledge was partly hereditary: his grandfather was Field Marshal William Riddell Birdwood, the first Baron Birdwood and commander of the Anzac troops at Gallipoli, and his father served in the Second World War as a Lieutenant Colonel in Probyn’s Horse. But Birdwood’s expertise was also in part due to personal experience. He was himself, for a period, an officer in the Royal Horse Guards.

He inherited the title on his father’s death in 1962 and went on to participate in many debates – on subjects such as Trident, China and Korea – and while he was a Tory whip he did not always toe the party line. Although he lost his seat when the upper house was reformed in 1999 he defended the role of hereditary peers on the BBC parliamentary programme, Record Review.

Mark William Ogilvie Birdwood was born on November 23 1938 in Bombay, the son of Christopher Birdwood, 2nd Baron Birdwood, and Elizabeth Vere Drummond Ogilvie (his mother was 6th generation in India). In 1946 the family returned from India and lived for a time at Hampton Court Palace.

As a child Mark had rheumatic fever which meant that he could not play sport; he instead focused on his artistic talents. He painted a mural in the church of his prep school and wrote poetry which was published when he was 12. It was at this time that he had a religious epiphany and he would retain a deep spirituality for the rest of his life.

Birdwood attended Radley College in Oxfordshire. He did National Service before university, serving as a Second Lieutenant in the Royal Horse Guards, stationed in Cyprus.

On his return to civilian life he went up to Trinity College, Cambridge (he won three scholarships). While an undergraduate he

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Obituaries

Birdwood, on far right in white, with his fellow Cambridge undergraduates about to set off from Chelsea for Nepal in 1961 and five fellow Cambridge students drove from London to Nepal in a Land Rover, an expedition that took them across Europe and through Turkey, Persia and Afghanistan.

On coming down he joined the advertising agency J Walter Thompson as a copywriter. He was later made creative director of Eric Garrat agency.

During the 1970s and 1980s he moved away from advertising, working first as a development director for Cambridge Consultants before moving into executive headhunting and recruitment, first with Boyden International and then co-founding Wrightson Wood. He struck out on his own in 1986, setting up Martlet.

Lord Birdwood was chairman of Steeltower Ltd, a property development company which he co-founded, and had considerable experience with both quoted and private companies, acquiring a number of directorships during his career, many for businesses in the technology sector.

He was, variously, a member of the advisory board of Strategic Communication Laboratories; an honorary research associate of the LSE Centre for Philosophy of Natural

and Social Sciences; a patron of Mansfield College, Oxford; and enjoyed membership of both Brooks’s and Pratt’s. He was also an enthusiastic supporter of the charity RP Fighting Blindness.

A committed Christian, Lord Birdwood became a lay preacher in later life, delivering sermons at his local church at Broadway, Worcestershire.

He married Judith Helen Roberts in 1963.

She survives him with their daughter Sophie.

leper colony in Africa before qualifying from the Middlesex Hospital Medical School. It was soon after as a House Surgeon to Sir Thomas Holmes Sellors at the Middlesex he met his wife, Glenys, a Middlesex nurse and they shared 49 years together and were planning their Golden Wedding Anniversary on the day of the accident.

After registration, Jim undertook a short service commission in the Royal Navy, first posted to HMS St Angelo and serving on the Beira patrol and at the Royal Naval Hospital Malta. On leaving the Royal Navy, Jim entered General Practice in Newdigate, Surrey where he remained for 11 years before deciding to move to join his friend, Roger Hickman, in practice in Sittingbourne, Kent in 1980. After a significant illness in 1994, Jim took early retirement from full time practice but continued health screening clinics and regular locum clinics in Sittingbourne and Shrewsbury before finally hanging up his stethoscope on his 70th birthday. He particularly enjoyed his years in locum practice as it allowed him to focus on patients and forget about the rigours of running a practice.

Jim was a conscientious and dedicated GP who was very popular especially amongst his elderly patients. He took on the rotating administrative role at his second practice with great success, his greatest coup being the recruitment of that year’s Miss Sittingbourne as one of the receptionists.

He was a keen sportsman playing golf and cricket to an excellent standard until only a few years ago. Unfailingly good-natured and always lively company, Jim had the happy knack of being able to put anyone at their

Lord Birdwood, born November 23 1938, died 11 July 11 2015 Russell On 2.3.2015 as the result of a car accident, Dr James (Jim) Rowland Russell, (d, 1953-1958). At Radley he was a Prefect, a member of the 1957 and 1958 Cricket XIs, the 1957 XV and Hockey XI. He was in the Fives IV in 1957 and captain in 1958.

Educated at Radley, Jim studied Medicine at Clare College, Cambridge. A committed Christian throughout his life, he set up a support group for disabled children in Cambridge and spent time working in a

Jim Russell the old radleian 2015

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Mullard On 10.11.2014 Robert (Bob) Kenneth Mullard, (b, 1954-1959). He was a Prefect and a member of the lst VIIIs of 1958 and 1959. He took a Short Service Commission with the lst Green Jackets and served in Borneo in 1962 and 1963. After leaving the Army he worked in the motor trade in Southampton and Reading before joining Esso in 1967. He was with Esso for the rest of his working life, between 1978 and 1987 in Northern Ireland and then, based in Newcastle, managing an area stretching from the north of Scotland down to the Wash.

ease with his genuine interest in what they had to say: a trait that endeared him to his many younger relatives and communities wherever he lived, which he never failed to get involved with and make a great contribution to.

About 3 years before his death, Jim was diagnosed with Cardiac Amyloidosis .The resilience, fortitude and optimism which he demonstrated earned the admiration of both his specialist physicians and his fellow patients.

As well as Glenys, Jim leaves a son, Robert (1980) an Army Consultant Emergency Physician and currently Defence Consultant Advisor Emergency Medicine, 3 daughters and 7 grandchildren.

From Jock Mullard: My big brother Bob Our parents, a surgeon and a nurse, met at a hospital in Oxford and were married in September 1939 just a few days after the start of the War. Bob was born in 1940 and, 4 and a half years later, I arrived. With the age gap there was never any competition between us and I can’t remember us ever having fights – Bob was much bigger and stronger so fighting would really not have been a sensible plan – I just followed happily in his large footsteps.

Chamberlain On 2.1.2015 John Anthony Chamberlain, (d, 1954-1958), two weeks after his 74th birthday.

His brother Roderick (B 1959-64) writes: At Radley John excelled in the classroom, leaving with three S levels, and on stage, where his performance in the title role of Marlowe’s Edward II still lives vividly in Peter Way’s memory. He spent most of his holiday weekends at Stratford and his evenings standing or in the gods at Covent Garden, taking me at age 13 to stand through five hours of Siegfried, thus inoculating me against opera for quarter of a century. I recall also seeing him win a prize playing the clarinet; and envying him learning to fly in the RAF section, a cunning plan to enable him later to spend his National Service sitting in a cockpit rather than crawling through mud or being seasick. Another friend has only ever referred to him as “Holy Joe” because of his role as Sacristan.

After Radley he was caught out by the end of National Service, which meant that Cambridge had two years with no new intake beyond returning servicemen. John therefore went for a year to the US [Kent School] on an English-Speaking Union exchange scholarship, a move followed by me and both my children and, I fear, his only really happy schooldays. He then taught for a year at Clayesmore Prep School in Dorset where the music master (“Harry”) was Sir Harrison Birtwistle. At Cambridge he read English and Theology. However he lost his call for the ministry: a friend from those days, now Distinguished Professor of Philosophy at Cambridge and North Carolina, says “John enlivened my undergraduate days by being, if I remember rightly, the most unlikely student of Theology that I could possibly

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A few memories:

John Chamberlain imagine”. Instead he qualified as a barrister and went into the arcane world of Protection and Indemnity insurance for ship owners.

He worked for forty years at Charles Taylor & Co, moving 35 years ago to the States to start and migrate into a new and thriving joint venture there. He became a leading authority on longshoremen’s (stevedores’) compensation. On retirement at 65 he was promptly headhunted by the US Department of Labor [sic] to act in a regulatory capacity overseeing his old firm among others. Latterly he was running his own consultancy and, like so many of us, not quite writing a book.

He and his wife Diana lived in Connecticut and became US citizens several years ago.

He leaves two children in England by his first marriage, and a son and two stepsons in the US. He had also recently become a grandfather for the first and only time. At the time of his death he had been unwell for some while but nobody was prepared for his sudden demise. En route home to Connecticut from a family Christmas in California, he complained of pain while changing planes in Denver, was taken to hospital for immediate surgery but did not survive the night.

In the 1950s when we lived next to a farm in the Chilterns I remember, aged about 6, sitting astride the bonnet of a caterpillar tractor – the tracks going round beneath my feet – the caterpillar tractor was being driven by Bob aged 11. I am sure we were doing something useful to help the farmer but I can’t remember what it was. No Health & Safety officials to spoil our fun.

In those days we had holidays on boats on the Norfolk Broads so we could also visit our grandfather who lived in Suffolk. One day I slipped on the wet deck and fell into the water. Bob had just reached over and grabbed me by the hair when our mother, hearing the splash and intent on a high speed rescue, came flying up from below deck and, without pausing to review the situation, dived straight over the side. Bob calmly plucked me out of the water before going to assist our mother.

After some very hard winters in the 1950s we moved house to give my father an easier journey to work. No farm next door but a garage up the road where Bob could work the pumps and help with the repairs and servicing, returning home suitably grease-stained and smelling of petrol.

Bob also had a spell as an ambulance driver in the High Wycombe area.

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We overlapped for a year at boarding school where Bob rowed in the 1st VIII and was Captain of Boats. Bob ran the school Fire Brigade which had a powerful V8 pump capable of propelling water at huge pressure over the top of the school buildings and soaking anyone who happened to be on the other side.

Bob worked behind the scenes at the school theatre and played the Euphonium and Tuba in the school orchestra. He was also in the Cadet Corps band, becoming its leader, marching in front of the band as they paraded through Abingdon on Remembrance Sunday. For this he carried a mace which he twirled in suitable style – launching it into the air from time to time and catching it on the march.

After another move, this time to the New Forest, Bob was to teach me handbrake turns at a disused wartime airfield at Stoney Cross. There were also lessons in the use of a bent coathanger to break into a locked mini then fix the wiring to start it. We had no plans to become car thieves – the car on which we practised was Bob’s – but the skill was useful to me later when I or friends lost our car keys.

And then Bob joined the Army – probably an attempt to get away from his annoying little brother. At that time there was an Army recruiting advertisement showing an officer, attached to a rope, abseiling down a cliff – Bob told me this was him and I was not sure whether to believe him but I decided that I was not going to follow in those particular footsteps.

Bob enjoyed his short-service commission with the 1st Green Jackets and served in Borneo in 1962 and 1963. After the Army Bob had various jobs in the motor trade before joining Esso and working for them for 37 years. Bob was a General Manager for them in Northern Ireland and later, living near Newcastle, for Scotland and a large part of England stretching down to the Wash. He was responsible for the property side of the business – the fuel stations and their surroundings.

In his retirement Bob worked for the Red Cross in the Newcastle area.

Bob was married twice, first to Joy with whom he had a daughter who became a superb horsewoman. Bob was extremely proud of his daughter and her family who live in Germany. Bob’s second marriage was to Teresa. When Bob became ill with lung cancer, Teresa’s love and care for him was magnificent – Teresa could not have done more for Bob and I know how much he treasured her support.

Bob was the pathfinder and I am so blessed to have followed in a few of Bob’s footsteps. He was an inspirational big brother – I owe him more than I can say. Thank you Bob – I am forever grateful to you.

Stokes On 28.10.2014 Ian Hartley Pillans Stokes, (h, 1954-1959). He played in the lst Cricket XIs of 1958 and 1959 and was a member of the Athletics and Shooting teams of the same years. He was a School Prefect.

He went up to Oriel College, Oxford and became Senior Rural Economy Adviser for the Farm and Rural Conservation Agency (FRCA) and Adviser to the Rural Stress Information Network (RSIN).

Dumas On 22.2.2015 Colonel John Jeremy Dumas, OBE (f, 1955-1960). His brother, Tim, was at Radley.

In the concluding years of a much enjoyed and successful Army career, Jeremy Dumas found the niche in which he excelled. He was Defence Attaché at the British Embassies in two difficult areas of the Middle East successively, and then Defence Adviser Caribbean. His courteous modesty and friendly, easy social manner, underpinned by a natural understanding of the nuances of life in foreign parts, ideally suited him for diplomatic life.

The Lebanese civil war was raging when he and his wife arrived in Beirut in 1989. Western Europeans were being taken hostage regularly and Terry Waite, John McCarthy and Brian Keenan were already held. The situation was complicated and many different factions were involved in the vicious fighting. In an effort to make sense of this, Jeremy would visit individual groups and with cool and steady judgment try to tease out information. It was a surreal life with armed close protection day and night, death threats commonplace and even the Dumas home caught in random shelling and crossfire. He was appointed OBE for his courage and exceptional service during his tour. With little time for regrouping, he was promoted to Colonel in 1991 and moved, with the uncomplaining Lizzie at his side, over the border to Damascus, just as the First Gulf War got under way. Life in a dictatorled police state, suspicious of foreigners, was not easy and made providing advice to his Ambassador on the capabilities and possible intentions of the Syrian military, difficult.

Jeremy still managed to tour extensively in the fascinating countryside. He and his family enjoyed the challenge and lived as normally as possible, despite oppressive

Jeremy Dumas conditions and constant monitoring by the local secret police. To be involved towards the end of his tour, in the release of McCarthy and Waite over the border from the Lebanon, was a highlight.

The Caribbean provided a complete contrast to the Middle East, though it was by no means peaceful. There were on average three murders a night in Kingston, Jamaica, where they lived. Jeremy oversaw a huge area from the Bahamas in the North, to Jamaica, Trinidad and Tobago and then Suriname and Guyana on the coast of South America.

He spent much of his time travelling and providing advice and assistance to the various underfunded local defence forces to strengthen regional stability. This also touched the area of counter-narcotics.

Jeremy Dumas was born into an Army family in 1942 and moved around with his father who was also a Gunner. He attended Radley College and spent his teenage school holidays in Germany, where he learnt to ski and sail. After trying his hand at farming, and then doing a stint in a bank, he eventually settled on joining the Army, being attracted by the skiing and travel. He passed into Mons Officer Cadet School in April 1962 and was commissioned into the Gunners later that year. His early regiments were 2nd Fd, JLRRA, 1 RHA and the South Notts Hussars where he was Adjutant.

He was an instructor at RMA Sandhurst before gaining a place at The Staff College, Camberley in 1975. He was in the MOD as a GSO2 followed by battery command in 47 Fd Regt. A staff tour with the RAF was

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followed by promotion to Lieutenant Colonel and a move to Nigeria as an Instructor with the British Army Training Team at the Nigerian Staff College in Kaduna. This was a testing appointment in many ways, not least in overcoming the difficulties of personal and family administration. Nothing much worked, it was hot and humid and most modern conveniences did not exist. This was right up Jeremy’s street and, despite pitfalls such as the family pony dying of rabies, he managed to make the most of an exciting environment including travelling widely with the family by road around West Africa.

He retired in 1997 to the house in West Mersea on the Essex coast which he and Lizzie had acquired some years before.

They had long had an ambition to have a boat built to their own specification in which they could travel beyond home waters. The resulting 35 ft wood epoxy gaff cutter was much delayed by a serious fire in the boat builder’s yard when it was nearing completion, and Jeremy never really managed to achieve all the cruising he had planned before illness struck. He began working for the West Mersea Lifeboat in 2002 and in 2007 took over management of the Station, a job he much enjoyed. He became a Church Warden overseeing the fabric of the local 10th Century church.

Finding no money available for repairs he initiated an appeal, and then set up the Friends of West Mersea Parish Church, a group dedicated to ensuring a constant trickle of money for maintenance. He was active in establishing new and popular allotments for Mersea Island.

He died on 22 February 2015, aged 72, courteous and modest to the end. The packed church at his funeral was testament to the loss which has been felt by his friends and his local community. He is survived

by Lizzie and their three children, Richard, Leafy and Emily, and by four grandchildren.

Kirkwood On 8.5.2014 The Hon Sir Andrew Tristram Hammett Kirkwood, (f, 1957-1961).

He went up to Christ Church, Oxford and became a Barrister, taking Silk in 1989. He was a Recorder from 1987 to 1993 and then a High Court Judge.

Roberts On 9.5.2015 Timothy Alexander Mann Roberts, (f, 1958-1963). He rowed in the 1963 lst VIII. In his early career he worked in the insurance market in London and Canada in companies such as Marsh UK and Jardine Lloyd Thompson. After a spell in renewable energy and energy conservation and running his own property development

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Oliver Larminie (1967) writes:

Tim Roberts company he joined the search industry.

After three years as Head of Research with Saxton Bampfylde he worked for nine years as Senior Research Consultant with Korn Ferry International. This was followed by over thirteen years as an Independent Researcher with Executive Research-Direct.

In 2011 he became a Senior Consultant with Edward W Kelley and Partners. He worked extensively with clients in the UK and the USA as well as Australia and New Zealand, the Far East and the Indian Subcontinent.

His experience covered Financial and Professional Services, Government, Not for Profit, Academia and also included Construction, Energy, Oil and Gas as well as Fast Moving Consumer Goods, Retail and Industrial markets. His brother, James, and his son, Garth, were at Radley.

Milner-Barry On 7.9.2014 (John) Simon Patrick Milner-Barry (c, 1960-1965). He ran his own Design and Marketing Agency.

He was a Trustee of Somerset Counselling Centre in Taunton and was committed to bringing counselling and mental health issues to the fore and helping SCC provide services to the community. His grandfather, Lloyd Rennie, was at Radley.

Joyce On 9.1.2014 Captain Mark Thomas Altham Joyce, (f, 1962-1967). He went to the Royal Military Academy, Sandhurst where he was in their Boxing team. He was commissioned into lst The Queen’s Dragoon Guards and served with them from 1970 to 1994. He was in the British 4 Man Bobsleigh (GB2) in the 1978 World Championships. After leaving the Army he worked for GKN Defence and then for Alvis Ltd as a Training Adviser. His brother, John, was at Radley.

Mark Joyce was in the 2nd Vlll at Radley and enjoyed other activities such as Rifle Shooting, Boxing and the CCF. On leaving Radley he therefore joined the Army and was commissioned into 1st The Queen’s Dragoon Guards. He was very much a Regimental soldier and excelled as a driving and maintenance instructor. He had a fascination for all things mechanical and had an eclectic collection of vehicles, many of them ex-military. These included a Russian Ural truck that he brought back from the First Iraq war. He and his vehicles were sometimes employed as film extras after he left the Army.

Sheppard On 3.1.2015 Christopher Richard Seton Sheppard, (h, 1962-1966).

Over 400 people attended his Memorial Service at St Luke’s in Chelsea.

The Tribute by Jonathan Eastwood: It all started fifty-two years ago when Christopher and I were thirteen years old and were new boys in the same house at Radley College. He had been a choral scholar at the Pilgrims school and a chorister at Winchester Cathedral. I arrived a term later than him for some reason and since then for the better, and sometimes for the worse, he became part of my life.

It was clear from the start that Christopher was not like the rest of us, or at least not like me. I went to Radley impressed by the size of the place and its traditions, particular vocabulary and rules and regulations. I was keen to keep my head down, to fit in and to conform. Christopher wasn’t like that at all. He had a very limited tolerance to authority, even at the age of thirteen. When I think about Christopher I realise that one of the leitmotivs of his life was his inability to accept authority. Later in life he was not cut out to be employed. His father found him a job in the City which lasted very little time. At school, it was a constant refusal to accept instructions.

We had a fagging system which involved having to undertake tasks demanded of us by prefects. Christopher quickly understood that if you did something extremely badly you were unlikely to be asked to do the same again. When he was ordered to make a cup of coffee he would lace it liberally with boot polish...

Christopher arrived at school already a keen fisherman and we had a lake that was

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known as College Pond where you could fly fish for trout. Christopher was in the business of catching fish so he came back from holidays and half terms with tins of maggots. Unfortunately, maggots do what maggots do, i.e., wriggle and expand. I remember coming into our study which was infested with maggots. Upon my first step into the room I slipped on a carpet of wriggling worms which had climbed all over the seats and the desks and everywhere…

We had mock elections where boys were encouraged to create new political parties and write manifestos and go on the hustings.

Cool boys would create parties such as the “Abolition of Public Schools Forever” party.

Christopher stood as the Conservative candidate. Whenever he stood up to speak he had various missiles from fruit to tennis balls thrown at him so that he developed the technique of having a tennis table bat in each hand to deflect these missiles...

The Conservative Party received one vote – his own!

He was involved in a number of anarchic escapades from painting our house lamp post, which was a few yards from the front door, pink with blue spots one night (to the fury of our housemaster); to being complicit with another anarchist who connected up the school fire alarm system to one of the dons’ lavatory light switches in the Mansion!

The CCF (corps) was a wonderful terrain for his subversive tendencies. He was in the Naval section. A story I enjoy when he was at the top of his game involved a general’s inspection which occurred once a year.

He made no effort and turned up looking, as RSM Howe said, “like an unmade bed.”

“Have you no pride? Don’t you realise you are wearing the Queen’s uniform?”

Christopher, rigidly to attention, replied, “Oh really? Well that explains why it doesn’t fit!”

Christopher was very entrepreneurial.

Through contacts he had at the girls’ school St Mary’s Wantage, which was some 20 miles from Radley, he organised for a reception committee of girls of our age to rendez-vous with us in the gym at their school. Six or so of us would bicycle from Radley on a regular basis when we had free time and would climb in through their gym window. The girls provided booze and something to eat and we provided ourselves!

He and his sister Carlo, at Westonbirt, organised numerous Radley/Westonbirt events, many of which were off the official school radar. Unfortunately, time doesn’t permit me to enlarge on their escapades.

Suffice to say, on one occasion, they managed to contrive a dozen boys from Radley and a

similar number of girls to spend a weekend in a large house in Gloustershire without any adults and with the benediction of both Radley and Westonbirt!

Whilst most of us lied about our sexual conquests during the holidays I have concrete proof that Christopher scored. No lesser person than his mother, Bunty, said to me that she was very unhappy with “your friend Christopher.” She said that she had gone into his bedroom at around midday to find him in bed with the daughter of one of her best friends. She said, “Christopher, how could you do this? I’m a great friend of her mother’s.” To which he replied, “Mummy, do grow up!”

He left Radley before taking his A Levels as his parents took the view that he was not suited to the school and he went to Holland Park Comprehensive from where he passed the entrance exams to Trinity College Cambridge. He spoke very fondly of Radley and ever since we have always addressed each other as “Old Bean”!

At Cambridge, Christopher was in his element. He did no work. He made a great many lifelong friends, some of whom I count as friends of mine. He was very involved with the Pitt Club and he organised a full scale custard pie fight on Jesus Green. He and some undergraduate friends took over a pheasant shoot in Norfolk at Holt. He and his university contacts formed a wandering cricket team, the Flounderers. I was a member from early on.

We had enormous fun for many years and most of the team have remained good friends. Indeed, we will be having a reunion at Royal St George’s this October.

There is a famous story involving Christopher and myself at one of the matches I organised at my cousin’s cricket ground at Hinton Charterhouse. I regret that I can’t go into the details as for the story to have full effect it requires the use of language that would be wholly inappropriate in this place.

If anyone wants to hear the story I would be happy to recount it over a drink later in the Chelsea Town Hall.

Christopher became a very good shot and fisherman, although he had little eyehand coordination for ball games. He loved cricket. His father sent him to Lord’s to be coached as a batsman. Whilst he was a stylish batsman he never made any runs. He would deploy elegant off drives but well after the ball was in the wicket keeper’s gloves! He became a useful medium paced bowler but what he really wanted to be was a batsman.

He loved going to Lord’s with his friends (frequently using the MCC tie to hold up

Christopher Sheppard his trousers) and would always listen to Test Match Special even from his hospital bed. Needless to say, he assembled a fine collection of cricketing memorabilia.

Whilst he did exaggerate and invent, some of the most improbable stories are in fact true. When he said, “I am probably the only man alive to have pushed the Prince of Wales’ face into a custard pie.” I didn’t believe it for a second but it’s true! It happened on stage in a play when they were both up at Cambridge…

There was always a whiff of danger when you went out with Christopher. At restaurants, particularly Italian restaurants where olives were served in little bowls at the table, he would squeeze the stones which would ricochet off the walls and, with any luck, hit somebody. If that didn’t create any reaction he would lob bread rolls indiscriminately over his shoulder and if he was lucky someone would throw them back at which point we were involved in a full scale stand up bun fight!

He was never dull. He would suggest fishing for trout in the pond under the House of Lords at midnight. On one occasion, he nicked a policewoman’s hat which he then threw over a hedge which cost him time in the police station in a room with no door handles on the inside.

On another, the hostess at a big party we were invited to wore a magnificent dress made out of paper which, needless to say, Christopher set alight!

I am forever indebted to Christopher.

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The technique was to arrive around 11 pm dressed in a dinner jacket once the music had started with the tie slightly askew with an empty champagne glass and you walk straight in…!

He had success with women. In his heyday he was good looking, slim and they hung around him like bees on a honey pot. One woman was reminiscing recently that her street cred was hugely enhanced amongst her girlfriends when they were told that he had taken her out for an evening.

He had no apparent jealousy and he seemed to have an ability to stay on good terms with his exes. Indeed, his two ex-wives, Angie and Julia, along with Christopher’s immediate family, have together paid for putting on this memorial service for him in the church and the reception in the Chelsea Town Hall.

He loved matchmaking and causing mischief and embarrassment. He would invite a couple that had just split up to a dinner party, neither knowing the other had been invited. The anticipation of the event would have him beaming with excitement.

You could tell this because his hands would twitch in pleasure.

From a very early age, Christopher and his family were experts in antique glass.

Indeed, at a young age he co-authored a book entitled Investing in Georgian Glass.

At Radley, he would often amuse himself seeking out bargains in the antique shops in Oxford at weekends. I never had any direct experience of Christopher’s business life. It is clear that he was very respected for his knowledge and was called upon by numerous museums around the world to provide his expertise. He and a friend, Christopher Cooper, had a shop on Walton Street which I remember thinking at the time couldn’t have been easy for Cooper.

I have recently learned from an obituary that Christopher was probably Britain’s leading dealer in Roman and Renaissance glass. I quote some extracts: Over his career, Sheppard supplied many of the world’s major museums and collections with top quality historic glass. He had a photographic memory and encyclopaedic academic knowledge. As an expert in his field he was peerless but his touch was altogether less sure in what observers saw as a chequered business career.

Employing his prodigious memory he could, decades later, not only recall individual glasses in museums but also their precise locations on specific shelves.

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His professional interest spanned 2,000 years, ranging from ancient Rome to early Islamic and Renaissance glass to British Victorian ware. He made many important finds. For example in 1992 he discovered the so-called “Cavour” vase, a significant example of 13th century Islamic enamelled blue glass (now in the Mia Museum in Qatar). He collaborated with the Bond Street dealer Mallet on two major selling exhibitions in 1990: “Engraved glass – Masterpieces from Holland”. This was followed later the same year by “From the Restoration to the Regency” which featured English glassware.

The resulting catalogues remain the rare occasions when he wrote about glass but, “It took standing over him with a gun” to get him to complete them!

At the same time, he did also write the chapter on Renaissance glass in “Sotheby’s Concise Encyclopaedia of Glass” in 1991.

Perhaps his greatest legacy will be the collections he curated, typically that of John Bryan, the multi-millionaire CEO of the Sarah Lee Baking Corporation. His collection was published as “The Golden Age of English Glass 1650-1775”.

For one of our great friends, Richard, Earl of Bradford (or Viscount Newport as he then was) Christopher assembled an outstanding collection of Dutch 18th and 19th century engraved glass, including examples by the finest exponents such as Wolff and Jacob Sang.

I asked one of his American collectors, who became a good friend of his, to give me an insight into how he was perceived.

He replied: I really enjoyed our ten years of friendship and adventures together and will miss him greatly… Christopher helped me put together a world-class collection of early English drinking glasses for which I have a lifelong passion and I will forever be grateful. I wish that he had handled his financial affairs a bit better as they have tarnished his business reputation in the glass world. Everyone respected his knowledge but business dealings not so much… But, when I think of him as a friend, I smile.

Christopher was blighted with endless demands from creditors of various sorts.

It is difficult to understand how somebody with his intelligence could find himself permanently in financial difficulty. It

wasn’t as if he was hoarding money away for himself. Indeed, whenever he had any money he wanted to spend it on his friends or his children or godchildren. In the early days, he would frequently ring me up at the office and say, “Jonny, are you free for lunch?

I’m in the money. I’ve made 100 quid.” Any normally constituted person would have realised that having bought the glass for £90 two years previously, he had made less than £5 profit!

Finally there is one major character trait that I can’t leave out which is his love for and pleasure in the company of the young.

He was devoted to his four children and, because he basically never grew up, he had tremendous empathy with all the young.

The holidays that my two daughters and I passed with him in various locations in Scotland fishing and shooting at Aline and elsewhere and dressing up and playing silly games were unforgettable and, so far as my two girls are concerned, are certainly one of the happiest recollections of their childhood.

He was a tremendous godfather. He would offer outrageous presents and when his godchildren were underage he would supply them with cigarettes and alcohol. He gate crashed my daughter Georgie’s hen party.

She was astonished to see an enormous bouquet of flowers waddling towards her table where she was with a dozen or so of her best girlfriends. Christopher emerged from behind the bouquet pulling two bottles of champagne from his jacket pockets and invited himself to join in the festivities for the rest of the evening!

Christopher told his friends he was determined to give the Grim Reaper a run for his money and to die with a glass in his hand. He always rejected advice to curb his lifestyle. He fulfilled his prophecy at Christmas by drinking champagne from a 16th century Venetian glass, surrounded by his family before passing away on 3rd January 2015.

I will finish if I may with quotes from two of his godchildren. One is Tabitha Breese and the other is my elder daughter, Harry.

Tabitha wrote to Carlo in January of this year: When you’re a teenager, there are very few adults who take the time to treat you as a grown up. Godfather Chris was one of them.

I loved him a lot.

He was the first adult who I trusted to tell things about my life. I used to tell him things that I would never have told my parents and I never had any fear that he would rat on me.

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And the presents! Who else would give a 6 year old a lapis lazuli egg? Or a 12 year old tiny carved figures of 2 Japanese warriors fighting.

And then, when I hit 16, the present of all presents arrived. A box of Agent Provocateur underwear from Selfridges. My mother was horrified. I was absolutely overjoyed.

When I was 18 and travelling around South America, my wallet was nicked for the 4th time, I had run out of parents to call.

When I rang Godfather Christopher from the pay phone in Rio de Janeiro and begged to borrow a couple of hundred pounds, he offered up a sum which I won’t tell you now but it was a lot.

‘We’ll speak no more of it” he said and when I kept protesting, he cut me off: ‘That’s what godfathers are for’.

I think a child can never have enough adults in her life to speak to her openly and kindly about what the world has in store.

I am so lucky that I had Godfather Chris.

I’ll miss him a lot.

These are extracts from the letter that Harry wrote to Christopher a few weeks before he died.

I hate to think of you lying in a hospital bed.

You belong at a party, preferably one where you’re in charge of match making, the games and the fancy dress code. I wish I could be there to give you a big hug. The problem I have you see is that I haven’t told you enough what a TOP GODFATHER you are. THE godfather, in fact. You are responsible for so many of the joyful times of my life and I’m quite sure I never thanked you enough for any of them. Please consider this as a whopping, ginormous, all encompassing THANK YOU LETTER for all of it – 34 years of godfather services to me, Harry. And I want you to know that this is NOT a goodbye letter.

Thank you for all the Scotland holidays; for my first trip to London when I was 14 when I stayed with you and you took my friend and me out for ‘slippery nipples’ and B52 cocktails and bought us Silk Cuts; for countless dinners and lunches and drinks where I asked for your advice on boys and life; for always being on my side; for teaching me that it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks sometimes – just follow your gut; for Easter lunches where the table is a carnival of exquisite coloured Venetian glasses to rival any meadow in high Summer; for introducing me and the rest of the world to the joys of crushed velvet, violet smoking jackets; for my first and only doll’s house (which I still have and love); for embarrassing me with inappropriate presents

like the sequin waistcoat and cap you brought back from Los Angeles; for embarrassing me by starting a food fight in the same restaurant you gave me the waistcoat by throwing sugar lumps onto the rim of the hat of a nearby Ozzie who didn’t appreciate the joke; for always finding me at parties and asking me how I am and meaning it; for introducing me to the joys and mischief of redheads; for taking me seriously when I was ill at ease and selfconscious and growing up and awkward; for introducing us to your amazing boys and making life long friends out of them; for bullshots and for teaching me how to stalk; for lobster pots and lobster dinners; for introducing me to the Hebrides-Luskintyre beach is to this day one of my favourite places on earth; for my red Roberts radio. I love it and use it everyday.

To put it simply, Chris: thank you for multi-coloured rainbows where everyone else sees boring old black and white. You ARE fun. You’re what that word means. Thank you for being you and for taking us all on the ride with you. Someone once wrote this about Granny M (Daddy’s mother) and I feel that it’s just right once again: you emblazon our lives. Don’t you forget that. Get better! I want to hug you and see you as soon as I can.

I think these two godchildren have put their finger on the magic of Christopher.

I don’t think I have ever been more angry more often with anyone than I have been with him over the years but he nonetheless, as Harry said, emblazoned my life and I suspect a good many lives for many, many others.

Rodney On 20.11.2014 Peter Miles Rodney, (b, 1966-1971). Peter died in Gibraltar, aged 61, after a short illness. Oesophageal cancer had been diagnosed some 11 weeks earlier after he lost his voice. He had just retired from his job as Chief Legal Adviser to the Government of Gibraltar and was looking forward to a well-deserved retirement with his wife Lynn, so after a lifetime of work, his untimely death was a cruel blow.

From the address by his brother, David: Peter, my dear and only brother, would have been deeply touched to see so many of his close friends and colleagues from the UK and Gibraltar here today. Indeed, his every instinct would be to apologise for having put you to any trouble. But on behalf of his wife Lynn, his daughters Lydia and Kate and me, we would like to thank you all for coming – it means a great deal.

In composing this tribute to Peter, three things were clear to me at the outset. Firstly, it was doomed to woeful inadequacy because it can never truly reflect the depth of his life, achievements or his character. Secondly, it would also detain you far too long and, thirdly, the attempt would, in any event, be telling you things about him which shone so brightly that you would know them anyway. I’m also very conscious of, and you will recognise, his particular attention to detail and his very precise command of the English language; so much so that I can almost imagine that he’s looking down from above, armed with a red pen and clipboard in hand, marking the content, enunciation, punctuation and grammar of this eulogy. So here goes, old chap...

Peter certainly wouldn’t have wanted his life story repeated, so I felt that it might be more appropriate to reflect on the unique and distinct features of his character and the interests that set him apart, supported by the odd anecdote or two.

His legal career – Peter’s professional achievements were manifold and his passion for the Law drove him powerfully during his working life. Following Bar Finals, Peter and a number of his friends met up in the pub before they headed to the Inns of Court to view their results posted in the first edition of The Times. ‘Oh, God I have failed’, Peter exclaimed, as he looked at the section headed ‘Distinctions’; it simply hadn’t occurred to him that he wouldn’t get a distinction and be mixed in with the average ‘hoi polloi’.

Further down the page he saw that he was classified as a mere ‘ordinary pass’ and was called to the Bar. Following a successful pupillage at 12 Kings Bench Walk under Mr Justice Popplewell, he enjoyed many years representing his clients in court with great success and panache.

Peter subsequently joined the Lord Chancellor’s Department, as it was then called, in the early eighties, largely to ensure that he earned a regular crust and to keep his family in the style to which they would like to become accustomed. His first job there was to head a team on the court business side of the department and to provide legal advice to other branches. That advice was then, as it was more recently, largely ignored. However, he must have done something right, because he then became the Department’s representative in Europe gallivanting around the continent attending meetings and conferences. Certainly better than working for a living. At one time, there was a joke going around that Peter had gone missing because the manager of the duty-free the old radleian 2015

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shop hadn’t seen him for a week. From there he went on to spells in Luxembourg and then EFTA, the European Free Trade Association in Geneva, followed by his time in Gibraltar where he forged a very successful career working for the Gibraltarian government.

Peter was held in very high esteem by his colleagues and friends. He enjoyed his new life in Gibraltar and the fact that so many of you are here is testament to the warm regard you had for him. Thank you for accepting him into your community and making him so welcome. Whether it was the regular Quiz night or other social events, he was always keen to muck in.

Having worked all his life, it is tragic that his life was so cruelly cut short just as he approached the retirement that he was looking forward to enjoying with Lynn.

Together, they were planning many more trips with the other love of his life, Harriet, their motorhome.

Peter’s family was the most important part of his life and his most enduring legacy.

He enjoyed a number of years in Clapham during his very happy marriage to Marianne and with their daughters, my dear nieces Lydia and Kate. He has revelled in both girls’ achievements and has celebrated their successes with great enthusiasm. Lydia who went up to Worcester College, Oxford, to read Clinical Psychology and Kate who read Russian at Durham University are both enjoying their respective careers. It also gave Peter great pleasure to see his daughters settled with loving and kind partners, Mat and Rudy.

Peter was so full of love for his daughters that he was hugely protective of them and only ever wanted the very best for them.

Although he was never fond of overt displays of affection with hugs or kisses, there were always pats on the head and squeezes of their shoulders to keep them strong and together if they ever felt down.

And yet, there was a competitive streak, and both girls’ competitiveness comes from him. Kate’s earliest memory of Monopoly was her father asking to trade her Mayfair for his Old Kent Road – for nothing, just a straight swap. Since he was her Daddy; she had assumed he was actually helping her, so she gratefully accepted. He also gave the girls confidence in travelling and speaking foreign languages. As youngsters, and I remember Lydia in particular, wanting an ice-cream on holiday in Italy, so she had to ask for it in the appropriate language; in this case Italian.

An odd idiosyncrasy here: Peter still couldn’t order an espresso properly in Spanish in spite of all his years living in Gibraltar and Spain.

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Peter Rodney As my older brother, taking into account the age difference of some 12 years, he could sometimes act like a 3rd parent, especially when I was being very annoying. But, as I morphed into a teenager, he invited me on several sailing trips where we explored the east coast of England. We enjoyed many laughs and adventures, together with many of his close friends, such as Bryan Neill and Adrian Worthington to name but two, and would sail his pride and joy, a Stella 26’ wooden yacht, named Formidable, after the flagship of Admiral Rodney, our ancestor.

Here in Gibraltar, where in 1780, Admiral Rodney initially broke the Spanish and French naval Siege of Gibraltar, Peter Rodney was to return to the colony to sail after a gap of some 200 years. By competing in the Victory Dinghy Class Regattas held in Gibraltar coastal waters, he had his chance to reclaim family honours in Gibraltar.

Unfortunately, Peter’s seamanship wasn’t a patch on the Admiral’s and he came last in every single race.

He took me to my first James Bond film, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, and introduced me to the Big Mac at the first McDonald’s that had just opened in London.

He became a trusted friend and supporter, always there ready to offer wise counsel if it was required, but was equally sensitive in the way that any advice was delivered.

He was generous, warm, and supportive and had a self-deprecating sense of humour which was fundamental to his boundless charm and lovability which we all recognise and remember.

Peter’s intellect marked him out and he was possessed with a very fine brain that was

trained from an early age. As an only child, Peter would avidly read a book a day during the school holidays, and so he learned that reading was indeed a great source of knowledge. Even at the precocious age of 15, when discussing a particular topic with a number of adults around a dining room table, Julie Wadham, a very clever lady and matriarch, once remarked, ‘Peter, what is it like to know everything?’. To which Peter replied, ‘Well actually, it’s really quite exhausting’.

From school at Radley, Peter went up to Magdalene, Cambridge to read law and achieved a credible 2:1, and while he could have easily achieved a first class honours degree, he believed that anyone who was awarded a first demonstrated a singular lack of fun and imagination.

I think we have all been subject to an interrogation from Peter, I know I have been chewed up and spat out on occasion for either sloppy grammar or weak knowledge. He loved having an answer for everything, arguing that black is white, often just for the sake of it, and to showcase that devilish smug grin when he knew he’d got you. Peter’s intelligence has served him well, gained principally from reading rather than conversation, but this intelligence has occasionally got the better of him. Upon arriving at his chambers, Peter, the new pupil, said to his pupil master ‘I think this court procedure is die-late-ory. ‘You mean dilatory, I think, Peter? came the stern response. Peter also competed successfully on Radio 4’s Brain of Britain quiz and narrowly missed out on a place in the semifinal. Truly, he possessed a great mind.

Moving to his interests, they were many.

Firstly, his writing. Whether it was the Gibraltar Chronicle wine column which he took great pride in, silly parodies of EU laws banning Christmas, for example, April Fools’ jokes or delivering Plain English lectures, Peter loved using the power of his writing to great effect. He wasn’t much of a phone person, preferring to email a summary of the conversation after a telephone call with either Lydia or Kate, outlining the discussion and main points raised. For the girls, it helped clarify the issues in their heads. And even though they teased him about it, he couldn’t help himself – a consummate lawyer through and through.

Secondly, The Times. As we all know, Peter had a lifelong love affair with The Times. An immediate priority in his daily routine, even up until the day he died. As a regular correspondent who had many

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Letters to The Editor published, he also completed the daily crossword at record speed and won several prizes in the process – yet another manifestation of his huge mental capacity.

Even on skiing holidays in Switzerland, there are memories of Peter enjoying a pitstop on the slopes struggling with the wind howling about him, trying to light a cigarette, clutching The Times, pen poised to fill in the crossword, whilst desperately hanging on to his gluhwein, but simultaneously spilling it down his salopettes, muttering ‘how the hell am I supposed to do the crossword with this bloody wind?’ Unforgettable. Clever – yes; multi-tasker – no.

One of Peter’s most enduring charms was his ability to tell stories against himself, modestly depicting himself as the protagonist of a cock up. He just never bothered to tell us all about the many things he did well.

As you know, he loved wine, beer, spirits and Arsenal as well as the Archers in equal measure.

Thirdly, his dog handling skills – Having grown up with dogs, Peter certainly thought of himself as an expert dog-handler and fancied himself as Clapham’s answer to the Dog Whisperer. Their large family golden retriever, Fudge, was often spotted on walks with Peter wearing his distinctive green wellies on Clapham Common and she was spied obediently waiting for her master, outside the Windmill pub, while Peter was inside enjoying a pint half-way through the walk.

Some 18 years ago, Peter, Marianne and their girls, accompanied by Fudge, went to visit Justin and Lucy Wadham for a weekend at their home near Newmarket. Justin was Peter’s oldest and best childhood friend, so it was a special get together. At the time, Lucy was forging her career as a racehorse trainer and her stables adjoined their house. Just before Peter’s car pulled up in their driveway, Justin had prepared 2 large jugs of Bloody Mary and had left these on the kitchen table.

Upon hearing Peter’s car arrive, Justin went to greet his old friend whom he hadn’t seen for some 5 years or so. Justin had known that Fudge was coming but had forgotten to warn Peter that they had a cat, and that Peter would need to control Fudge. So, hurriedly, he advised Peter of said cat.

‘Oh, don’t worry, Justin’, Peter confidently reassured his host (and we all recognise Peter’s confidence and slight dismissiveness!), ‘Fudge is very well trained and has learned to ignore cats – it’s really quite alright’. In other words, stop fussing, I know what’s what!

At this point, Peter opened the car tailgate and Fudge immediately caught the scent of a cat. She shot out like a bullet, charged up the steps and into the house to chase down her quarry. Sitting calmly in the hall, Justin’s cat caught sight of a flash of yellow as Fudge bore down on him. Sensing impending disaster, the cat dashed for the kitchen, leapt onto the table, hotly pursued

by Fudge, and launched itself onto the kitchen curtains, claws out, in a desperate attempt to gain height and save its skin.

The Bloody Mary jugs never stood a chance with 7 stone of golden Retriever hitting the kitchen table at speed. The carpet, walls and floor were suddenly transformed into a sea of red – there wasn’t an inch of original paintwork left to be seen; not to mention the curtains that had also been shredded and pulled off the track.

And, so the wheel comes full circle and Justin Wadham and his sister, Cornelia, who both grew up with Peter at home in Hertfordshire managed to visit him the day before he died, after an absence of many years. I’m convinced that Peter was holding on to life because he so wanted to see them and relive the old tales of growing up and Bloody Marys.

Lynn, thank you for making Peter so happy over the years you were together and for caring for him so attentively during his last few weeks. He couldn’t have been in better hands, and you nursed him with consummate care and skill.

I just wish to conclude that I hope all of us can look back at today’s service not only as a final farewell to a person we all loved, admired, respected and will miss dreadfully, but as a celebration of a full and remarkable life that was cut cruelly short by a terrible disease. We have all benefited and our lives were made better through knowing him.

He was unique and leaves behind many happy memories with Lynn, Lydia, Kate, and of course Marianne, his nephews Harry and Oliver, who sadly cannot be here today, my wife Sally and me as well as his many, many friends both here in Gibraltar and in the UK. Footnote: At the Plain English Awards in December, Peter was honoured with the Chrissie Maher Award 2014: Peter Rodney, who sadly passed away in November, worked tirelessly to bring plain English into legal language for many years. Peter campaigned, taught and argued eloquently on the Campaign’s behalf and his contribution was enormous. He will be sadly missed.

Wright On 6.9.2014 Jeremy Harry Wright, (c, 1970-1974).

His brother, Alexander (1981) writes: Jeremy was born on 12th March 1956 in Cannock, Staffordshire.

His parents met at Culdrose where both were in the Royal Navy; his father, Brian, was the 750 Squadron electrical officer and his mother, Virginia, was a Wren. Peter, his brother, was born 2 years later and the family soon moved to India in 1959 where Brian had been posted for 3 years with English Electric. On their return, Jeremy and Peter went to boarding school at The Old Malthouse, near Swanage in Dorset. In 1967 Jeremy and Peter went to Mexico several times where Brian was working. At the age of 13, Jeremy started at Radley and school holidays were spent with Peter between Virginia’s home at Burleigh in Shropshire and Brian’s home at Sonning in Berkshire.

He also enjoyed many skiing holidays in Anzere where Jeremy was the style guru, Peter the speed merchant.

Jeremy left school in 1974 when he was 18 having developed a keen interest in photography and geology. Having lived briefly in both India and Mexico, Jeremy was keen to explore the world further. He was given £100, a backpack and he set off for France. He spent some time in Paris but soon moved on south, reaching Cannes on the French Riviera where, as a long-blond-haired youth, Jeremy was hired by the charter boat Lady Castlemaine as a “galley slave”. He later transferred to the schooner Grace on which he sailed for the West Indies, reaching Antigua in 1976. One of his Antiguan adventures was quite a famous story in English Harbour for a time: The skipper of the yacht in which Jeremy sailed from the Mediterranean to the Caribbean refused to pay him. As a result Jeremy jumped ship.

He was lured back on board, imprisoned on the boat and then deported back to the UK! But another boat owner, who Jeremy had befriended, funded his return to Antigua and he then travelled on this boat to New York to try his luck in the USA. All his travels were meticulously documented via letters to his family and numerous poems, each one timed and dated with a note of the location where it was written.

For a time he did odd jobs in the U.S. such as leaf-raking and renting refrigerators to college students, but he was soon on the road again. He hitchhiked across the country ending up in San Diego where he hoped to work on a yacht again. Unsuccessful in the old radleian 2015

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Jeremy Wright getting a job on a boat in San Diego, he tried Los Angeles and then San Francisco where he spent some time and arranged to sail on a boat to Tahiti later that year. In the meantime he went to Mexico and raced the MEXORC (Mexican Ocean Racing Circuit) which his boat won. He returned up the west coast to San Francisco and sailed to Tahiti (1977-78).

Working for a somewhat eccentric boat owner who would only speak French, Jeremy turned this to his advantage and, after six months aboard, he was fluent in colloquial Parisian French. He spent four months in Tahiti, as well as some time in Wallis and Futuna (another French Polynesian territory) which must have made quite an impression as his main (current) email address is/ was ‘futunateaa@gmail.com’ (teaa means ‘blondie’). He then went to the Torres Strait region, the Solomon Islands, Papua New Guinea and a number of other south Pacific locations. Eventually he made his way on Triana to Sri Lanka (Ceylon) from where Jeremy flew back to the UK By now his passion was firmly based in the yachting industry and in 1979 Jeremy enrolled as a sail maker with Hoods in Lymington. He learned the trade for three years and lived aboard his father’s boat Hiboux II in the Yacht Haven. He used to windsurf out to the Needles with safety flares

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wrapped in plastic bags in his backpack. He also managed to get windsurfing banned as an activity in the Lymington River (which it still is today) as the Sealink (now Wightlink) car ferries thought this newfangled sport was a hazard to navigation!

During his travels Jeremy passed through the British Virgin Islands. He had decided that, one day, he wanted to live there. So, in 1981, resourceful Jeremy engineered a transfer to Hood’s sail loft in Tortola. He moved into the Waterfront Apartments in Road Town, found for him by his new boss, Bill Bullimore. During his spare time Jeremy had been ‘hanging out’ in Trellis Bay with David Ross, a Canadian windsurfer who owned Boardsailing BVI (formerly Freedom Ltd).

In 1983 the company was sold to John Phillips and a year later Jeremy moved to Trellis full-time to teach windsurfing.

He had found his ‘calling’ and in 1988, along with his father Brian, they bought the company. Jeremy was now part of the ‘Trellis Bay family’ along with Tony and Jackie Snell who ran the famous Last Resort and Aragorn Dick-Read who was making a name for himself as a metal sculpture artist.

It was around this time that a young local boy, Finian Maynard, would come to the beach to windsurf every weekend

with his friends. Jeremy helped and inspired Finian who later went on to hold the world speed record on a windsurfer. Jeremy was immensely proud of Finian’s career with his cutting-edge windsurf company, Avanti Sails. Speed and innovation was always the ‘mission’ and Jeremy hired Ben Bamford, a surfer from Cornwall. Together they created a workshop in the adjoining unit making custom boards.

Jeremy’s real passion was teaching windsurfing where he ‘guaranteed success’ but as time passed he began to develop his restaurant and cyber café. Living on a remote island, Jeremy was at the forefront of the internet revolution and had an email address long before the rest of his family back home.

He provided visiting holiday makers with a relaxing beachside location to check their emails along with something suitable to eat and drink. The Trellis Kitchen Cyber Cafe was born. Jeremy created (in typically understated fashion) ‘The Famous Awesome Sandwich’. His brother Alexander, dismissed this marketing hyperbole but on taking a bite commented “J, this sandwich actually IS awesome..” Richard Branson agreed, often calling in to take some Awesome Sandwiches aboard his private jet. Jeremy Wright, in-flight private caterer to the rich and famous...

A Trip Advisor review of the Trellis Kitchen summed up Jeremy’s unique style and razor sharp wit: “…the owner is one of the coolest guys around and has a lovely dry sense of humour. I was in there on my first trip, kinda late, and I ‘let rip’ with a few curse words – as construction workers do. The owner, behind the bar, chimes in “Excuse me, would you mind your language? There are ladies here...”

Taken by surprise and feeling smart, I looked around and see no women in the place at that moment and I tell him as much.

He looks me right in the eye and deadpans – “They’re in the freezer”.

Hahaha! I can’t wait to go back and sit on the deck with the cats and roosters.

Meanwhile, just along the beach, Aragorn’s studio was expanding; using some of Aragorn’s fireball sculptures as a theme, the family-friendly Full Moon Parties were launched. They are now a major monthly tourist event in the BVI, with charter boats planning their itineraries to ensure they are in Trellis Bay each full moon.

Jeremy loved Trellis Bay and most of his family have visited many times. Jeremy even organised Peter’s honeymoon as a BVI adventure and on another visit, his mother Virginia impressed the local craft community

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with her pottery skills. Unfortunately, it is likely that Trellis Bay could soon be transformed by the present BVI government’s plan to extend the airport runway (at a cost of hundreds of millions of dollars) into the heart of Trellis Bay. The purpose is to attract larger planes to the Virgin Islands, along with many more tourists. Unsurprisingly, Jeremy did not favour this ‘development’, which threatens the local environment and is sure to change the special atmosphere of the BVI. Never one to keep his opinions quiet, Jeremy created on-line campaigns and blogs to instigate debate.

In many ways, the proposed airport expansion typifies the changes and challenges that Jeremy experienced since arriving in Tortola three decades ago. When he first came to the BVI there were no computers and of course no internet to surf.

The capital, Road Town, has since burgeoned into a global offshore finance centre but Jeremy saw many of the changes as lost opportunities rather than as progress. Land has been sold off to outsiders and Jeremy, like many other local businesses rented his buildings from a new Chinese owner.

But Jeremy was not just a passive observer of change. He was involved in ‘growing’ water sports (evolving his business to rent kayaks, paddle boards and kite surfers). He even came up with the concept of windsurfing safaris and helped to design Catariba, an innovative catamaran accommodation yacht. His skills were in demand by numerous Virgin Island companies and resorts such as Little Dix, Necker Island and many others used his expertise as a consultant. Jeremy also enjoyed looking after John Wigg’s boat Quetzal, based at Nanny Cay, aboard which he crewed many times during Antigua Race Week.

Jeremy continued to apply for a yearly residency permit although he had been in the BVI long enough for more settled status.

But true to his wanderlust origins, Jeremy felt like he belonged everywhere; but his spirit will remain in Trellis Bay forever.

Jeremy was diagnosed with cancer in February and he flew straight home. He was met at the airport by Peter, driven to Queen Camel and immediately registered for treatment. This was intensive and the side effects were both mentally and physically draining. But he maintained his positive attitude throughout. He then spent many months staying with his sister Kate and her family in Ilminster, moving to the Isle of Wight in July. Jeremy watched some racing during Cowes Week in August and died, unexpectedly, in early September.

He leaves his parents, Brian and Virginia, siblings Peter, Kate, Alexander and Rowena, nephews and nieces Edwina, Harry, William, Ben, James, Charlotte, Jess, Charlie and Alexandra. His ashes will be scattered in The Solent and in Trellis Bay, BVI. Mackaness On 30.12.2014 Peter Hugh Mackaness, (d, 1972-1976). Peter rowed in the 3rd VIII and after studying at the Oxford Polytechnic (now Oxford Brookes University), he qualified as a Chartered Surveyor. Specialising in commercial property and based in the City of London, Peter worked for a number of firms including Farebrother, Matthews & Goodman, Weatherall Green and Axa Real Estate, ending up at UBS Global Asset Management as head of business development. His brother, Shaun, was at Radley.

Honorary Members Fanshawe On 2.2.2015 Nigel Halford Fanshawe (Radley Common Room September 1932-December 1945).

From The Radleian March 1946: In parting from Mr. and Mrs. Fanshawe, we congratulate Eton, as we condole with ourselves; for their departure leaves a grievous gap in our society.

Nigel Fanshawe has taught mathematics at Radley since 1932, and. in the last few years in particular, has built up and consolidated the prestige of the subject, which finds its particular expression in the Mathematical Sixth over which he presided so efficiently.

If, as we hope and believe, there is now a real tradition of Mathematical Scholarship at Radley. and a steady stream of Mathematical Scholars flowing from us to Oxford and Cambridge, it is Nigel Fanshawe who deserves the greatest credit for this. He has worked untiringly, persistently, cheerfully, and unobtrusively, to this end, and he may feel in his Eton home that the foundations at Radley were well and truly laid before he left us. He is an admirable teacher, patient, thorough, and exact. requiring the best from his pupils, but understanding their difficulties and encouraging their efforts.

For the last eight or nine years, he has undertaken the arduous task of producing the school time-table, and he has displayed therein wonderful resource and wonderful

good humour – a combination of patience and ingenuity which has won the admiring gratitude of his colleagues.

He has found time besides to run the Radley Village Boys’ Club, to be first Signals Officer in the J.T.C. and later O.C. to the A.T.C. and he has presided over the Chess Club.

We can remember, too, how skilfully he has bowled his innocent looking leg-breaks on his rare appearance on the Pitch.

To him and to Mrs. Fanshawe, go our warmest thanks for what they have done, and been, at Radley, and our most cordial good wishes for their happiness and prosperity at Eton.

Extracts from letters from Nigel Fanshawe to Radley in 2008 and 2009 when he was in his late 90s: You may be surprised to hear from me as one of your older Radley associates. I was not an OR but was appointed in September 1932 to teach mathematics after I left Cambridge in June 1932, after I finished the Mathematics Tripos. I found the mathematics in the School in poor state because there were only 2 older mathematicians there, Hope and Stevenson who was in charge. To my delight I was given all the Sixth Form work from those doing it in the Science Sixth. There was a bright boy, Dyson, whom I helped to get an Exhibition in Mathematics at St Catherine’s, Cambridge in 1933, the first Oxbridge award in mathematics for many years but I was a bit put back by the Warden when I went to tell him and he said “I am very pleased but you know my Governors want Classic Awards”. However, a series of scholarships and exhibitions in mathematics followed and in 1937 when J.C.V. Wilkes became Warden I persuaded him to let me start a mathematical Sixth Form and this flourished greatly. The top of all the various Scholarships was that to C. T. Rivington who got a scholarship to Trinity, Cambridge. Many of these boys got 1sts at Cambridge. Westmacott was interesting and won a good Scholarship to Oriel, Oxford but could not take it up at once because of the War. Although I had a T.A. Commission for CCF work, I was failed my medical and had to stay teaching during the War. These were not easy days and especially in 1940 when, without almost any warning, we had Eastbourne College completely dumped onto us. We knew the Head, Nugee, because until his appointment there he had been the old radleian 2015

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Sub Warden at Radley. I was the timetable man and did all the school timetables and suddenly found the problem had doubled.

The boys slept everywhere and we had 4 boys in my house (I was married then).

Many slept in the Old Gym, I do not know if it still exists. It was an enormous corrugated iron structure which we called the biggest such structure in Europe. It was convenient for housing hundreds of boys. We all had to dig for victory and somehow I dug a huge lawn and turned it into vegetables and fruit. We were all LDV and then later called Home Guard and I found myself in charge of signals for County Berkshire as well as our local unit. About twice a week we did an all night observation post from the flat roof of the Mansion and then having been awake all night turned up at 7.30am for our first lesson. One pleasant duty was to use the launch, used by the rowing club for coaching, to cruise the Thames at about 4.30am for a couple of hours going up and down for an hour or two. It was wonderful how peaceful it was with only a heron to stare at its unusual visitor.

I left Radley in December 1945 and went to teach at Eton. I was there a few years and was then appointed Headmaster of King Edward VI School, Chelmsford, the town Grammar School. Those were difficult days with the problems caused by the Butler Act which sadly was the right Act at the wrong time. It came into operation in 1948 and was a revolution in idea by abolishing fees of Grammar Schools. These fees had prevented about 70% of our people from getting an education for their children because they could not afford the fees. Unfortunately the politicians, as usual, mishandled the situation and a scandal arose because thousands of bright children suddenly hoping for a decent education were prevented because no new Grammar Schools had been built. There should have been a massive building of new Grammar Schools but none could have been in the post-war years because all building in the country was houses for people to live in after Hitler’s bombers had destroyed so many. However, by the 1950s building schools could have started but never did and this is why the Labour Party made its terrible mistake of trying to close the Grammar Schools. In Essex where I was over 120 were closed and now only 4 survived (mine was one because of its royal foundation). So the top of our system is in peril and only surviving because of the best independent schools and a handful of Grammar Schools.

I do not think many at Radley can be left whom I know. The Maths Sixth passed

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Nigel Fanshawe, Radley Common Room September 1932 to December 1945 onto Mermagen when I left but he left about a year after me and went to be Head of Ipswich. I do not know if it survived but things have changed and the abolition of Oxbridge Scholarships and the abolition of S Level from the GCE A level which came in 1950 to replace the HSE. This had 2 levels, the lower one A level was to provide a matriculation test of 2 passes and S level a much harder examination on about another year’s work so as to give universities a chance to find out the best students.

By getting rid of these most good mathematicians do not teach any more because there is no challenge in the work.

They prefer to become statisticians or actuaries. I do not feel happy about this.

Two of my grandsons did the Maths Tripos and one got a 1st. He is now a PhD and statistician and the other is an actuary.

Both would have made excellent teachers.

However, I was lucky, I had a great life and enjoyed it. After I retired at 67 I went on to teach mathematics for 9 years in the city and had to commute 75 miles each way to do so.

• Every time I sit down and think about Radley I come up with something new. Here is a bit more. Warden Ferguson was a gentle soul and delegated most of the details of running the school to his staff. Among these two stand out John Nugee (Sub Warden and later to be Headmaster of Eastbourne College) and Rev. V. Hope. Most things were settled by these two and it was no surprise

when John Nugee got his Headship. V Hope was outstanding and in the history of the school he should rank as having done more for it than almost everyone. He was an excellent and detailed organiser and had strong views. For example no visiting preacher on Sundays should preach for more than 10 minutes. My seat in chapel was next to his so I knew how he shuffled if a visitor went on too long. One memorable sermon came from an ex-colonial bishop which went on for 45 minutes and there was almost a riot in the chapel. However, he has 2 memorable achievements. Firstly by planning and constructing the boathouses by the river and second realising that when a large field south of the college came onto the market it was essential to buy it. Otherwise as he said we should one day have Abingdon expanding with housing estates right up to our boundary and the College would lose one of its most valuable assets; its lovely park like character. So he persuaded the College Council to issue an appeal to ORs for the money and by astute organising it responded and the College got the 100 acre field. It was VH’s determination and planning which secured it.

When Ferguson retired he was succeeded

by J. C. V. Wilkes who was a totally different character, full of new ideas which he created, not all successful. I did his timetables and he often changed them half way through the year.

It meant I spent holidays doing timetables and worse when Eastbourne came. Luckily the 2 schools mixed well and what might have been fraught with conflicts never happened.

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John Wilkes was the first lay Warden to be appointed although later he became a priest. After he left he went to a parish in Leeds and later to one on the Thames near Marlow.

• Since I wrote to you about my time at Radley I remember I said nothing about my work with the Cadet Force. As a T.A. Officer I could help with the school CCF and ran the Signals section. We had little real equipment except wire and telephones and key pads for sending messages along the wires by Morse Code. So I had to teach cadets the Morse Code and to try to speed up their accuracy which was not easy and we spent lots of time at that. We had 2 old wireless sets 1918 pattern. They were portable and were in heavy boxes to be carried and needed 2 boys to carry one so they were not much use and not very reliable. We had 2 helioscopes such as were used in the North West frontier (the border between Afghanistan and what was then India, now Pakistan) here we had an army. These were signalling lamps operated by keys which flashed the signal up and down to send morse, e.g. a was dit dah a short for dit and long flash for dah and similar for other letters. We also had some navy signalling lamps with batteries to produce the flash and used for inter-ship communication. Cadets had to learn to use all these. The wire was wound onto drums about ½ mile at a time and fitted onto the back of a ‘donkey’ who walked slowly whilst another cadet walked with him paying out the wire. A telephone and tapping key was connected at each end and a message sent by morse. Alternatively 2 stations would be posted ½ mile apart with signalling lamps.

On Field Days there was no 7.30 school and everyone went on buses to suitable areas to practise war games and we played our part to send messages.

We found little use for the helios which used the sun to produce the flashes. On one occasion I placed one station on top of the mansion with a helio whilst I took in my car another party to the Berkshire Downs about 10 miles away on a nice sunny day and tried to signal back to the College. It was a dismal failure because using telescopes we could see each other but failed to get any real messages through because the sun refused to stay still and no sooner had we got it aligned and it was off again. How the army used it I never discovered. I found no difficulty in getting recruits for the signals and it was great fun, but not very successful. The fact that we

missed 7.30 school on Field Days brought me into trouble after I left. On the first Field Day at Eton where I did the same work, I did not get up for 7.30 school as I assumed it would be cancelled. To my utter disgrace and shame since I did not come, my class did what is known as a “run”. After 10 minutes without me they streamed out of their room with much noise and celebration and reported to the school office to clear themselves. The noise means that everyone knows there has been a run and wonder who was missing. It is a legend that I am not sure is correct that one respected housemaster if he was late for his lesson would send along his butler to the classroom to tell them not to run because he was on his way, and got away with it.

From The Daily Mail, 6 February 2015: Mr Inspiration: Feared head – then lifelong friend. Simon Heffer pays a heart-stirring tribute to a man who proved grammar schools really do change lives.

On Monday, I posted a birthday card to one of my dearest and most admired friends. He was about to turn 104. However, he never got to see the card, nor those from countless others who loved and remembered him.

Hours before his birthday he died, peacefully, with his only surviving child – he had outlived the others – at his side. The man so widely admired was Nigel Fanshawe, from 1949 to 1977 headmaster of my old grammar school, King Edward VI in Chelmsford, Essex.

But Nigel was never simply a headmaster.

To those who had the great good fortune to be part of his school, he was an example, an inspiration and a friend. He personified why, 50 years ago, the teaching profession was held in such high regard and individual teachers commanded huge respect.

My schooldays with Nigel, and my profound gratitude for all he and his colleagues did for me, made me a lifelong advocate of selective education.

In his hands our school transformed the lives of thousands of boys, not just by equipping them for the best universities but by turning out young men with proper values and a deep sense of intellectual curiosity.

Nigel believed passionately in elites and in excellence, but was no elitist. His great regret was that no government developed the idea of the technical school properly to ensure a first-class education to children whose talents were not academic ones.

He strove to open up a world of knowledge and to advance true social mobility. And, although happily, my school

survives, Nigel’s life work also illustrates what we have wilfully and tragically lost in abandoning most selective schools.

Nigel himself was a grammar schoolboy.

The son of a scrap dealer in Wolverhampton, he was one of six children – most of whom lived almost as long as he did.

He won a place at grammar school and shone as a mathematician. University beckoned, but his family couldn’t afford it – this was 1929 and the state made little provision for such luxuries.

With characteristic determination, Nigel found the money. He won a scholarship to Cambridge, but that wasn’t enough. So he proceeded to win scholarships from his school, county and charitable institutions until he had sufficient.

In 1932 he graduated with a first-class degree in mathematics from Gonville and Caius College. He then resolved to help as many as possible to do what he had – develop their potential for their own sake and society’s – and for the rest of his life he did just that.

He had jobs at two leading public schools – Radley and Eton. But his heart lay in selective education, where his deep sense of vocation told him he could make a huge difference to boys for whom private education was not an option.

When, aged 38, he took over King Edward VI, the school was poorly funded, its staff depleted by the war. Standards had slipped and the buildings were in poor repair.

Nigel transformed the place. He disregarded the idea of a catchment area and took boys from anywhere in the county.

As teachers, he set about recruiting men – and before long, women – who would stretch the minds of their charges. The quality of the intake soon rose and admissions became highly competitive.

One applicant who didn’t make it was Geoff Hurst, who went on to score a hat-trick in the 1966 World Cup final. Nigel contended that had he come to our school he might have specialised in rugby or cricket and, therefore, by not giving young Hurst a place, he had inadvertently been the architect of England’s triumph over Germany.

By the time his school celebrated its 400th anniversary in 1951, he had given it a new sense of purpose and identity, and of rigour.

Today, he would, I hope, have been called a ‘super-head’ and given a knighthood. But in those days exceptional teachers were taken for granted – though his boys never forgot him, nor he them, and many of us became friends for life.

Nigel fought with politicians. They didn’t like his attitude to catchment areas or the the old radleian 2015

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radical way he worked – he would not be bound by rules if they prevented him achieving better results.

He admitted late developers at the ages of 14 and 16, repudiating the notion that a boy was written off if he had failed the 11-plus.

And when, in 1976, a clever girl asked to study Latin and Greek in the sixth form to help her get to Cambridge, he broke a 425year tradition to give her the chance.

Three years later, she went to Cambridge, along with me and numerous others.

When I joined the school in 1971, Nigel was in his third decade there, and a terrifying figure to a small boy. At my interview, though, he was kind and charming – he made a point of getting to know all 650 pupils on the school roll.

On our first day he gave a short but inspiring lecture to the new boys that has stayed with me all my life. We were told, quite rightly, how lucky we were, but also how we were expected to prove we deserved to be there. He said that if we made the most of the opportunities the school gave us, the world would, indeed, be our oyster.

He retired aged nearly 67, with the greatest reluctance, having convinced me I should apply to read English at Cambridge.

But such was his sense of vocation that he soon resumed work as a maths teacher at an independent girls’ school in London, stopping years later only when his headmistress found out his real age and, as he put it to me, ‘feared I might drop dead on the premises’.

He believed that education never ended.

He devoured history books and, in his retirement in the genteel resort of Frintonon-Sea, regularly lectured the local historical society.

Aged 95, widowed and living alone, he cooked me a Sunday lunch and told me his secret was to keep going. ‘You may think because I am a very old man I sit around and watch television all day. I do not. ‘I get up and do the Sudoku puzzles and the cryptic crosswords, then start my historical reading. I go for walks. I play bowls. I listen to Beethoven. And many of my old boys come to see me.’

Little wonder we thought him indestructible and why, despite his great age, we are shocked he has gone. It is like losing a father.

Nigel was one of a generation of great teachers in a system that prized excellence.

By inspiring their pupils and making them believe that with hard work anything was possible, they did the greatest service to Britain.

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Some are like that today, but there are precious few in a state sector suspicious of academic excellence and therefore destructive of social mobility.

He spent the last decade or so of his headship fighting against the campaign to close grammar schools.

In his last years, Nigel was angry that politicians of all parties, as he saw it, had betrayed the grammar school ideal that he had done more than most to encourage.

It particularly nauseated him that some of the most powerful advocates of the destruction of these schools were Labour politicians who had reached high office only because they had attended such establishments or Conservatives who had enjoyed an even more privileged education.

He was absolutely right. The pulling up of the proverbial drawbridge on social mobility, which has left many people with less chance of moving up the ladder than they would have had in Edwardian Britain, is one of the most disgraceful acts of the past few decades.

I and thousands of men like me are Nigel Fanshawe’s legacy – and not, I hope, a bad one. He was a truly great man whose fundamental lessons were that selective education can transform individuals and transform a society – and that inspirational teachers are born, not made, and must be cherished.

Hudson On 8.3.2015 Anthony Bruce Edward Hudson, MBE, (affectionately known as Huddy), Tutor of F Social 19701984 and Sub-Warden 1979-1988. See the article starting on page 28.

Lynn On 14.7.2015 Maurice Lynn. He was a Don at Radley from 1979 to 1984.

From The Radleian 1984: It is almost impossible to summarise why Maurice Lynn has meant so much to so many at Radley during a relatively short space of time. All those who had the privilege of being taught by him will remember his contagious enthusiasm, his consuming love of France and all things French and his patient understanding of the learning patterns of the able and the less able. He was a master not only of his subject, but also of the techniques by which to impart it. His immediate colleagues will all remember the inspired professional with an encyclopaedic knowledge of language and literature who was able to show by example how to present the inherently stale in a fresh

yet rigorous way. Those who are lucky enough to remember him as a friend will think nostalgically on the many pleasant hours spent in stimulating, humorous company and envy those at Westminster School, where he has now taken up the post of Head of French, who have struck a fine deal on his appointment.

Maurice came to Radley in 1979 from The Oratory School where he spent 6 years teaching French and Latin after coming down from Magdalen College, Oxford. During his time at Radey his contribution to community life was an enormous one covering many aspects.

He subtutored in both ‘H’ and ‘D’ socials and from all accounts hit exactly that (and I quote Jon Naismith!) ‘laid back’ note that so many strive to achieve.

We all benefitted from his individual interests and pursuits which were many and varied. Common Room will remember the illustrated account he gave one Communications session of his Gargantuan hike across Les Cevennes.

He founded the ‘Leaf and Bean’ Society, organised Radley skiing and set the fitness fanatics amongst us a fine example with mammoth cycle tours as far as Spain from which he would return, sylph-like, and brimming with anecdotes.

It was impossible to miss his contribution on the playing fields… who else could it be but Maurice running around the pitches in the foulest of weather with 30 midgets in tow? Be it at cricket, hockey or at French inspiring the gifted, cajoling the less able, this was undoubtedly Maurice’s hallmark and he acquitted himself with that mix of enthusiasm and selflessness from which we can all learn.

Any account of his time here would be incomplete without reference to his contribution to the Radley stage.

Orpheus, The Miser, The Just, directing P.D.L.W.’s The 70% Solution and playing the demanding role of Dysart in J.H.’s production of Equus ... these are memories which will linger for a long time.

Indeed we all have our own memory of him: the convivial host, the life and soul of many a gathering, his generosity, his faith, his taste for late nights and chocolate biscuits, his love of children, his wise counsel ... the overriding impression is one of a man of great warmth whose departure will have left a gap which will never quite be filled. We wish him the very best of luck for the future.

Peter Hamilton

Obituaries

The eulogy at his service at Portchester near Portsmouth given by Richard Pyatt of Westminster: What a great love we have for Maurice. A truly charming and accomplished man.

A son, a brother, an uncle and friend; colleague and inspirational teacher to so many of us!

We have lost one of those rare personalities who makes life worth living and who made us feel special – supported, entertained and appreciated. We have been the recipients of his charm, sensitivity and great sense of humour. He found us all interesting. He delighted in meeting new people. Indeed, he was a people-watcher and would often translate his affection into beautifully formed verbal vignettes. He was a quiet master of under-stated eloquence. A character in a play where we all had parts – serious and silly ones – or in my case, both!

He has left us, and those he taught and those with whom he came into contact rare qualities that will linger for the rest of our days.

Indeed, the name ‘Maurice Lynn’ will always conjure up something complex, warm, ribald, devoted, hilarious and gifted. A man of profound and sensitive erudition who wore his learning lightly; yet who excelled in his loving attention to detail and finding the exact expression in the English and French languages. I can remember Maurice being complimented in a pub by a complete stranger for the way in which he ordered a pint of beer! A man who calmly relaxed both in the revelry of animated company and the intimacy of a quiet drink or meal – what a relief he could be– the perfect host, the charming conversationalist – master of the mot juste and the perfect punchline. Even Maurice’s phonecalls, e-mails and messages were a delight – skilled and affectionate and not without their art. Who can forget his 24 hour French Grammar hotline at revision time. Was that ‘for real’? Un homme exceptional! The man who could be both present and absent, who pirouetted along the fine edge of irony – ‘Maurice, I never know when you’re being serious’ opined one colleague: quite so! Yet to those who needed him and those for whom he had charge, he was a ‘star’ – and a constant one at that. A great friend and a very loving and caring brother who was there to help and who never interfered. No fuss, no bother – everything organised and resolved, affections powerfully and subtly available to those in need of support; to sister, to friend or tutee – and often with some delightful surprises and gifts thrown in for good measure.

Ah Maurice, Maurice…

In the account of his life that follows, we have all been privileged to play a part.

The first report is of the marvellous boy who survived a life-threatening rheumatic fever as a teenager and who later at Thornsleigh Salesian College in Bolton went straight to the top of the A stream as Head Boy and Head Librarian. He led a successful rebellion to help preserve the rooms appointed for humanities and won the battle after the besieged Head Master conceded defeat! He also made redundant a French dramatic competition because he simply won it every year.

His mother, May, was immensely proud of him and all of the achievements which follow brought her great pride and happiness.

He won the Magdalen College Doncaster Scholarship to Oxford in the late sixties where his love of the French language and its literature was to flourish and shape his mind and destiny. And joining this talented and attractive young man on the long summer roads down through France – travelling by bike or a Citroen 2CV – that symbol of France – were friends like Norbert, Alain, Phillipe and Michel and Chantalle and later Colette and Arnaud and their parents.

It was 1968 a time of change, of shared adventures, music and deep and supportive friendship. And we find Maurice absorbing France itself: its people, geography, politics and of course, the language – sometimes surprising his interlocutors with a dialect term from Languedoc to provide a little local colour. Maurice’s sense of place and the words to enhance and reflect departments, arondisements shires and towns was acute and creative and as he travelled and spoke from place to place he never lost his way!

And as Maurice’s funeral is in England and in English – we must today also restore his memory to France – to Languedoc and to Normandy and to the warm embrace of his French companions who have known him so long and consider him an honorary Frenchman. It is so pleasing to see so many of them having made the long journey here from Montpelier. Their memories are legion – tender and painful on a day like today.

They are sitting on Maurice’s balcony in Agde watching the Bastille Day fireworks, or enjoying an evening meal in Montpelier or Gignac, or celebrating the millennium in a stormy Normandy (a date he and Norbert had sworn to keep decades before) – indeed the last meal Maurice enjoyed with his friends in France, though he looked tired and unwell – was only a few months ago. He was a faithful friend – attentive to the needs

of others, tending to them through illness or times of trouble and to their children and had, as one of these friends has expressed it, ‘a delicate way of dealing with all of us.’

In the 1970s, straight after Oxford, Maurice taught at the Oratory School and was to return there as Headmaster from 1989 to 1992. Maurice strove to improve academic standards at the Oratory and was hugely supportive of staff and of the pupils and proved to be an exemplary man of faith. The kind ‘gentleman headmaster’ as one pupil has described him. It is good to see how Maurice’s links with the Oratory have brought so many of that community here today to pay him honour. And to be reminded of the continuing friendships such as that of Mike and Mo who created a haven for Maurice in their home on the Llyn Peninsular.

The period shared by Radley and his first stint at Westminster was clearly something of a golden age for Maurice and for those who shared his personal or professional company.

At this period began his gargantuan bike rides across France with the school across Normandy, the Cevennes or solo right down to the south. And of ‘Mosey’ the touring football coach – more at home on skis than in the goalmouth.

With his return in 1992 to the less guarded camaraderie of departmental and Common Room life, Westminster was re-acquainted with the wit and wisdom he had already bestowed on it in the late eighties. His original interview, conducted

by John Arthur, consisted of a stroll around Green. John commented that ‘it was as if I’d known him for ages.’ Of course the interviews which Maurice himself gave were not without their delightful eccentricities. One young interviewee was asked to translate into French: ‘He sailed into the port of L’Havre with his feckless granny’ and ‘She wore ivy green trousers that concertinaed around her puny ankles.’

He passed the interview. Maurice was once given a personal tour of Winchester School posing as a French tourist with a poor command of English. On another occasion, after a particularly disastrous and trying day at school where things looked pretty grim, Richard Stokes turned to him and said ‘Oh Maurice! where do we go from here?’

Maurice (taking an drag on his cigarette) ‘Oh, it’s quite simple. We just head up the street and turn left at the traffic lights.’

Followed no doubt by – ‘I’m sorry – is that what you were asking?’ He was a very funny man- and fun is often in short supply in our working lives! the old radleian 2015

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Maurice Lynn, Radley Common Room 1979 to 1984 – photo taken in 1983 by George Eykyn and developed and printed the Radley Darkroom And then of course he smoked rather a lot! Never have I been so willing a passive smoker as in Maurice’s company. He could wield a cigarette so adroitly and his intake of a Galoise gave him just enough time to deliver that mot juste. Smoking was part of his rhetorical art and rich expressiveness. As a non-smoker, it was natural for me to follow him outside the pub rather than be deprived of his company.

He handled being both Head of French and Head of Languages with characteristic diplomacy and charm, educating us all into his ironic mind and unerring humour and showing a sophisticated political instinct.

He became an adjective – Mauricean!

No fuss or temper tantrums – a floating ease backed up by formidable powers of organization and finely tuned administrative and examining method but also polished with his own inimitable gloss. He is famous for once holding his departmental meeting in the target language and for using his own poetry in interviews. And his French teaching environment enhanced by at one point the ‘Espace Rimbaud’ dedicated to his favourite poet. Maurice had very particular artistic enthusiasms – he loved the freedom and even amorality of 20th century French authors and filmmakers and understood how they could appeal to and liberate ambitious and creative young minds. Many former pupils have recorded their impressions of his

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lessons where they could enjoy the passion and intellectual joy of French literature.

And I am delighted to report that the annual French Prize at Westminster School is to be named after him.

A former pupil has placed this tribute on Facebook: For me he was one of those teachers – the select few – whose lessons reverberate for years afterwards. My love of French blossomed in the three years I spent in his classroom and continues to this day. The gigs I’ve played in France. Belgium and Quebec, the friends made, jokes shared, books read, songs cherished in the language – all lead back in one way or another to Mo Lynn.

Witty, theatrical, enthusiastic and genuinely interested, with an outrageous streak that made us suspect, as teenagers, that he really was on our side ... he is sorely missed.

His last text to me complained only of a ‘tummy infection’ which will go down as the understatement of the decade and actually betrays an extraordinary stoicism and faith.

He joked that the hospital infection C Difficile was ‘tres difficile.’ As if it were merely an inconvenience. He didn’t want to bother anyone and probably gambled on getting ahead of his illness and joining us all again in a weakened state but with some choice anecdotes about his stay in hospital. It was not to be and the illness quickly overtook him.

Pat and her family and a handful of friends – Richard and Anne, David, Paul and myself – only got a few more days with this remarkable man – patient and uncomplaining about what had befallen him, delighted to welcome us even in so diminished a state – an irrepressible force soon to be stilled.

He died on 14th July – French Independence Day. Westminster’s flag was flown at half-mast.

In the words of the little Rimbaud poem we must now let this talented and lovely man depart to new affection and sound. The privilege, the mystery and miracle of having known him increasing in our lives.

I see you Maurice…

At the end of the hot summer afternoons down in his part of Languedoc, a gentle evening breeze blows south from the mountains to the sea. Maurice made me aware of it on one of my first visits to Gignac. And it is known as the Transmontaignes. It blows over the old pilgrim route, across the rooftops of Gignac and over the line of the stations of the cross on the hillside and the hot vinyards.

Then down the course of the river Herault – The Golden River – to the ancient Greek city of Agde, founded 3,000 years before Maurice arrived there. The dark basalt of the old cathedral tower of St Stephen’s is cooled by it. It blows across those enjoying their first evening drinks, over late bathers returning home, to those rising from recent slumbers and then travels over the cape and so out to sea…

Au revoir Maurice. A bientot!

From George Eykyn (1979): For whoever is penning an obituary, two anecdotes might be worth recalling – one from me and one that Angus Chilvers (1979) mentioned (he was in the “Leaf and Bean”).

I remember a French class in which the theme was travel or something similar. In the exercise [I think it was Angus McCullough] had to render in French the words of a customs official, and mistakenly used the “Tu” form instead of “Vous”. Maurice snorted indignantly: “If a customs officer called me Tu, I’d sit on ‘im!”.

Angus remembers a Leaf and Bean meeting held by the College Lake in summer. Flies and midges were in full swarm. ML suddenly produced a child’s recorder from his pocket and proceeded to play a shrill note. “That’s the frequency they hate!”, he explained.

Obituaries

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Sport Sport

Rangers

Played 17 – Won 6 – Lost 11 Abandoned 1 – Rained off 3 – Cancelled 1

The review Regular readers of my reviews over the last 26 seasons have become used to the sort of ranting that is only to be expected from the last player on the circuit still wearing flannels with turn-ups. Yes, oldfashioned values from the last century (and the one before) do matter to your humble scribe. I am upset when they are insensitively trampled on by the Youth of Today Embracing Modern Ways. I guess those readers would not be so regular if they didn’t enjoy the occasional airing of bad-tempered and nostalgic opinions. So I am sorry to disappoint, but this year I have few complaints, other than the usual tut-tutting at the obvious: untucked shirts, late starts, spineless batting, black socks, slow over rates, failure to reply to emails and of course baseball caps.

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June, when we had lost 7 out of 8 matches to the oppo (and 2 to the weather). Some of the defeats could be described as mildly pathetic, I suppose, but none could be classed as truly embarrassing, which is an improvement on some recent years. And we were within a couple of silly shots in enough games that we could have won more than we lost. More importantly, the match managers were raising decent sides without relying too heavily on the Hon Sec’s magic box of extra players, and it felt that something better was just around the corner. And so it proved, but not before our first round exit to Malvern in the Cricketer Cup. We were unlucky to encounter this year’s winners, who hammered everybody on the way to the title. Although outclassed by a team studded with professionals, we at no point gave in. We were nearly at full strength with Dalrymple J, Dalrymple S, Butler, Waddell, Cave, Wallis, Fairhead, Wright, Gubbins W, North, Freyne H. With some of the 2009-12 trio of Gubbins, Marriott & Hearne and Jamie Dalrymple’s enthusiastic leadership, we have a squad that promises much in the future.

Some match reports:

Old Amplefordians (Jos North) Having registered only the one victory up until this, the second weekend in July, Rangers players arrived at a sunkissed Radley determined to carry out the Hon Sec’s exasperated request for a win. Charlie Beardall, fresh from his 6.2 year playing tennis opened the batting with David Wynne-Griffith and quickly set about taking advantage of a lightning quick outfield. They made an uncharacteristically (for the Rangers) positive start with the fifty partnership coming up in the 8th over, followed by an unbeaten opening partnership of 100.

Charlie finally departed for an impressive 67 and DW-G, bang in the middle of his nervous 30s, was joined in the middle by Oz Miller. When Oz was out trying to smash their off spinner over the pavilion on the first ball of his spell I am not sure David was best pleased to see his brother stride to the crease: the last time he made it to the 90s he was unceremoniously run

Sport

out by his younger sibling. History oh so very nearly repeated itself with Jamie timing a ball to mid-on and calling his brother through. Thankfully, much to the chagrin of the fielders, the ball hit David rather than his wickets and he was able to complete a very accomplished century later that over.

In response to Radley’s daunting 278-4 declared, the Old Amplefordians knew that they would have to get off to a fast start and keep wickets in hand deep into the run chase. Unfortunately for the OAs they managed neither as a combination of some very accurate bowling from Angus Gubbins and some less accurate but just as penetrative overs from Will Richardson reduced them to 29-3. After Will’s opening spell of 5-0-26-2, we introduced the spin of Christian Hollingworth and he quickly took 2 wickets, admittedly as a result of some pretty dubious shot selection.

Tea was taken with the score on 41-7 at which point the Hon Sec appeared as a spectator, for once with a smile on his face. Charlie Williams came on after tea and, while not taking a wicket, he bowled a tight line; this with a bit of nibble off a now quite worn wicket kept the pressure on and contributed to Christian wrapping up the final 3 wickets to bowl the Old Amplefordians out for 79. The Hon Sec had asked for a victory and we delivered by the magnitude of 199 runs.

Shopwyke Strollers (Johnny Wright) David Wynne-Griffith and Christian Hollingworth opened the batting, with Dave coming from a century the day before. However, cricket is a great leveller and he departed two balls into our innings without troubling the scorers. This brought Henry Mills to the crease and they pushed the scoreboard along well until Henry was bowled for 30 having put on 64. Luke McLaren batted well for his 32 before he too was bowled with the score now 147-3. Christian had passed his first Rangers half century during this partnership and ended the innings 131 not out off 148 balls, Charlie having been run out for 55. Declaring at 266-4 off 49.4 overs gave the Rangers plenty of time to take the ten wickets required for victory.

Wright opened the bowling with George Fox-Edwards who was making his Rangers debut having come into the side at 9.30 on the morning of the match. Olly Langton

and Jack Brown kept the pressure on and tea was taken at 40-5 with 227 more runs required for victory. The introduction of experience was called upon when a partnership started to form, so the senior pro, Rupert Henson, was brought into the attack. After taking time to make repair the damage done to the ball by the spinners, Rupert bowled the perfect inswinger to bowl the left-handed Atkins through the gate. Christian Hollingworth, the star of the first innings was brought on to clean up the tail with his off spin, which he did very quickly. This left the Strollers all out for just 114 and gave the Rangers their second thumping victory of the weekend.

Yorkshire Gentlemen (Hon Sec) Our return to Yorkshire had many of its traditional ingredients: a last-minute scramble to replace no fewer than 5 drop-outs (names recorded in Hon Sec’s Black Book); 9 returning tourists who by now know the ropes, although the compliance with the “Where’s Wally” dress code was a little loose and incurred some additional fines; and a thrilling finish. The one surprise was the weather: of course it rained heavily, but only 10 minutes before the end of the first day’s play and 10 minutes after the last. Otherwise it was gloriously sunny and, when the traditional gale dropped, almost too hot. The new captain, David Wynne-Griffith, got off to a bad start by losing the toss, and the YGs batted for two full sessions to declare at 225-7. Any grumbles from the RRs about the length of their innings were brusquely cut short by the Hon Sec’s reminder of the glorious asymmetry made possible by a four-innings match. Yet again he was proved correct. Despite retiring for the evening’s “activities” at 80-6 with the umpires consulting the rule book about the follow-on in 2 day cricket (it’s 100 runs, FYI), the not-out-overnight pair of Eadie and Wright expressed themselves the following morning in an 80 run stand, and we were bowled out only 44 runs short. Any doubts that the wicket had become easier to bat on were dispelled by the YGs sprinting to 151-2, at which point they sportingly declared to set us 196 to win in 36 overs. Those doubts were finally eliminated despite a slow start to our chase caused by the tired joke of spoofing the Hon Sec into opening the batting. Once his dull cameo ended we set off in earnest,

led by George “Colesy” Coles’ sparkling 67, and got there with 3 overs to spare and the heavens threatening. Yet again we managed to reach the end of nearly 200 overs separated by only a handful of balls, runs and wickets, a great advert for declaration cricket and testimony to the captaincy of YG Richard Umbers, sadly for the last time before retirement. We wish the YGs well in finding as good a replacement for next year.

Hampshire Hogs (Henry & Nigel Mills) On an overcast day and a green wicket, reminiscent of this summer’s Trent Bridge, the Rangers lost the toss and, surprisingly if fortuitously, were invited to bowl. Alex Low and Mike O’Connor opened with tight and aggressive lines, backed up by the Hon Sec and Christian Hollingsworth, and before we knew it the hosts had fallen to 70-5. A special mention should also go to H. Freyne’s glove work and a trademark slip catch

by Raffles to remove their star player.

Despite their slow start Hogs dug in and, after some dogged resistance, were finally bowled out for 145. This seemed a very attainable total, and there was even talk by some of having the match wrapped up by tea time – how wrong we were….

With the Rangers including in their batting four former captains and a Cambridge Blue – in the form of Alex Hearne, a pillar of Radley’s recent “golden generation” and making his Rangers debut – it seemed that a 50 from but one of that number would surely have been enough to secure the victory. However, a combination of good bowling and some ill-judged stokes did for the top order and, at 92-7 (really 8 down because Twelfthers had had to leave early), it was once again left to the lower ranks to bail us out.

A wonderful knock from Alex Low with strong support from Raffles LeighPemberton took us with relief to within two runs of their total when the latter was bowled by the returning Hogs opening bowler. Cometh the hour, cometh the man we all felt, and forward stepped the Hon Sec. Destiny called, and his bat – primarily used as a walking aid to and from those brief if cherished sojourns at the wicket – was now required to perform the function for which it had been created. Bat on ball were the watchwords. The Hon Sec’s challenge was “simply” to see out the remaining four balls of the star bowler’s over , leaving Low at the the old radleian 2015

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other end to at least draw us level off the following over before bringing us home – oodles of time remained.

With the watching Rangers holding their breath, the Hon Sec confidently blocked his first ball, to wild cheers from his team mates. Three balls remained – surely the Hon Sec’s decades of experience in the number 11 spot would be sufficient to see us home? The paceman turned, ran in and in a flash it was over – a Yorker did for the Hon Sec as his stumps were shattered and the Hogs seized victory by two runs.

So our season had come to an end, denied victory at the death at the conclusion of a great day’s cricket in which all had played a part, with memories to take us through the winter months. And as the rest of us huddle around the winter fire, there are rumours of the Hon Sec working hard on his forward defensive in the coming preseason… [It was a very good ball! – Ed]

A season of records: Longest fixture list ever at 22 matches arranged (17 completed), with possibly the worst ever loss ratio.

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18 Rangers played in 4 games or more, led by Rupert Henson (11 appearances – some may say too many), George Coles & Henry Mills (9 each), Johnny Wright (8), Jamie Wynne-Griffith (7), Jos North (6), Jamie Dalrymple, Alex Easdale, Christian Hollingworth (5) and Ollie West, Charlie Wallis, Henry Taylour, Luke McLaren, George Grace, Will Gubbins, Hector Freyne, David Wynne-Griffith and Charlie Beardall (4 apiece).

injury all season but hopefully will return.

No Charlie Duffell or Theo Freyne this year accentuated our shortage of ‘keepers.

Hopefully we will see them all next season.

95 players made between them 206 appearances, a pleasing balance between inclusiveness and a core.

What can we look forward to next year?

Further development of our Cricketer Cup squad under JD, and hopefully a less unfavourable first round draw. More young match managers, since it is clear that younger Rangers are more reticent about signing up for games run by their older peers than probably vice versa.

And, hopefully, some progress in finding a replacement for the Hon Sec, who has served notice that it is about time he was pensioned off after 26 seasons.

Debutants: Alex Easdale, Christian Hollingworth (with 2 five-fers and 131* in his first three games), Charlie Beardall and finally, Alex Hearne, the third of “the three degrees”, who promises to play more next season.

Where are they now? Charlie Goldsmith and Luke Dearden, the last members of Andrew Strauss’s 1995 XI, seem to have finally retired; Charlie Stoop came from nowhere last year to become one of our most regular players but has disappeared just as quickly; Henry Bailey suffered

All of the season’s scoresheets can be found on this website, lovingly uploaded by our loyal scorer Michael Barnett, who has been a feature of the club almost as long as the Hon Sec: http://radleyrangers.play-cricket.com

Sport

Rangers Results Oundle Rovers

Lost by 59 runs

Rovers 192

MCC

Rained off

Jesters

Lost by 4 wkts

Rangers 206-9

Jesters 208-6

Stanton 3-51

Bradfield Waifs

Lost by 37 runs

Waifs 218-4

Rangers 181

Low 58*, Sparks 3-37

St. Edwards Martyrs

Rained off

Sherborne Pilgrims

Lost by 7 wkts

Rangers 216-9

Pilgrims 217-3

G Coles 52

Guards CC

Won by 49 runs

Rangers 151

Guards 102

Hollingworth 5-33, Wright 4-28

Old Malvernians (Cricketer Cup) Lost by 120 runs

Malvern 327-8

Rangers 207

Butler 81, Wallis 3-64

Oxford Downs

Lost by 5 wkts

Rangers 180

Downs 181-5

Romany

Lost by 17 runs

Romany 192

Rangers 175

Mills 59, Brown 3-42

Old Amplefordians

Won by 199 runs

Rangers 278-4

OA 79

DWG 103, Beardall 67, Hollingworth 5-20

Shopwyke Strollers

Won by 142 runs

Rangers 266-4

Strollers 114

Hollingworth 131*, Wright 3-13

HAC

Won by 125 runs

Rangers 298-8

HAC 173

Walters 133, G Coles 76

I Zingari

Rained off

The Apricots

Won by 41 runs

Marlborough Blues

Cancelled

Gloucester Gypsies

Lost by 19 runs

Gypsies 245-7

Rangers 226

The Gauchos

Lost by 6 wkts

Rangers 118

Gauchos 121-4

Old Cranleighans

Lost by 3 wkts

Rangers 260

Cranleigh 266-7

C Langton 77, J Dalrymple 4-98

Yorkshire Gents

Won by 4 wkts

Ygs 225-7 & 150-2

Rangers 181 & 196-6

Wallis 3-30, Eadie 64, G Coles 67

Hurlingham

Abandoned – Rain Rangers 214-8

Hurlingham 104-4

Boddington 53

Hampshire Hogs

Lost by 2 runs

Rangers 143

Low 3-46, Hollingworth 3-21

Rangers 221

Hogs 145

Rangers 133

Cots 180

J Dalrymple 53, J Dalrymple 4-50

G G’ Williams 83, M Bailey 66, Taylour 3-46

Mills 108, S Dalrymple 50*

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Cross-Country

of white Xs on black singlets, and being mightily impressed with the calibre of the OR team.”

The advent of Association Football at Radley, combined with one or two other timetable clashes, meant that the boys were unable to offer up a sizeable team to challenge the ORs, on the day. The quick Paul Fernandez (PMF), however, and a few other talented dons certainly were present, and so it was agreed that the boys and dons would combine into a united Radley team, to present a more formidable opposition to a strong-looking OR squad.

The OR team: Back row (L to R): Tom Binnie (2006), Henry Astor (1983), Ben Pollard (1986), Chris Tufnell (1982), Ralf Arneil (1987), Mike Tufnell (1985) Front row (L to R): Ben Scott Knight (1983), Hugh Handy (2006), Alex Fereday (1993), Tom Horsey (1985), Simon Robson Brown (1986)

The OR Cross-Country Match origins and future...

The ORs won. Again.

Now why would I start this match report like that? Well, after initially intending to provide the reader with an account of the OR race, this missive has evolved into something of a treatise about running in general. As such, the details of the race itself will be considered within the context of the sport, of life and of what it is one might ask from life, and what characteristics may help us get there.

Spring had sprung again at Radley in the middle of March, as the OR Cross Country (XC) Team assembled by the cricket pavilion for the annual run against the boys and dons. The successful increments of momentum around this fixture these last five years witnessed what could be accurately described as a squad, more so than a team. A record OR turnout of 11 runners positioned themselves on 120

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the cricket pavilion steps for the pre-race team photo, enjoyed a good laugh at one or two old jokes on the start line, waved to the very welcome travelling support – the first time we actually had a fan-base on the day – whilst we also were sporting a smart new kit.

A recent trawl through the rich Radley archives unearthed an end-of-season letter of thanks to PSJD (Patrick Derham), dated March 9th 1991. It suggested the inauguration of an annual Old Radleian match and an OR singlet in black, with a diagonal white cross on the back, mirroring the striking Radley red and white-crossed vest that intimidated opposing all-comers for years. Nearly a quarter of a century had passed since this spark of intention had now materialised, but it seems to have had the originally desired effect. A post-match quote from one of the ORs, illustrating the point: “my lasting memory of the day was on the field at the top end of the playing fields near Sugworth Lane, seeing a string

Three stalwarts of recent years: Simon Robson-Brown, Tom Horsey and Chris Tufnell were joined by regulars Ben Scott-Knight, Henry Astor and Mike Tufnell and first-timer Ralf Arneil. And yet, it seems that last year’s report in this worthy publication stimulated the running hearts of some more recent ORs, so we all welcomed Hugh Handy and Tom Binnie, both still at Oxford University, and also Alex Fereday, from a slightly younger era than ‘the regulars’. But it was just as good to see familiar faces from way back in the early 1990s.

Back in the golden era of Radley XC, in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, PSJD would expertly foment the intense mental preparation of the hitherto unbeaten Radley 1st VIIIs. Ahead of crunch fixtures with Stowe or Winchester, nerve-jangling renditions of the Chariots of Fire soundtrack were coupled with inspirational Churchill quotes. First among these wartime snippets was the call to battle and an assurance that ‘the war would be won by The Unknown Warriors.’ This moniker struck a chord and stuck in the collective memory, playing a part in the demolition of arch-rivals Stowe on a warm sunny February day, in 1990. In the team format in those days, it was the first six of eight named runners to score, with their positions totted up, and the lowest cumulative score winning, 21 being the lowest possible. The Radley team achieved just that, registering an unbeaten season, with the first six finishers in the race. One of Stowe’s best ever runners, and their home-course record-holder could finish only back in 7th place. The war was indeed won, not only by the best runners putting in consistently excellent performances, but also by the mid-team, lesser-known runners staking their claim to victory

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and giving it everything on the day. The end-of-season shindig (a few beers and chipolatas) saw a presentation to each runner of a black T-shirt, emblazoned with bright Radley red wording ‘The Unknown Warriors’ across the front, having been imaginatively designed and printed by one of the senior runners.

Fast forward a year to February 1991, crossing the newly-constructed M40 motorway on a cloud-covered misty day, way back. Three of the 1990 Veteran ‘Warriors’ were present, Vangelis’s ‘Abraham’s Theme’ coursed through the ether on the coach stereo, Churchill rang in our ears, as we headed northeast towards Buckinghamshire and Stowe.

Home conditions, on a well-known course, are a massive advantage, and to be honest the Radley course was probably one of the easier venues for us, if not our opponents. A mere 3.75 miles around, and although hilly in some parts, the ground was generally speaking stable and the absence of muddy or prolonged steep uphill slopes was noticeable. Interestingly much of the course was run on tarmac, along the Kennington Road and up Sugworth Lane, even when wearing spikes.

Our best times were dipping below 5 mins 45 secs per mile pace, occasionally even sub-5:30 pace, which is very quick for off-road running. Elite, some might say.

But Stowe was different. They were out for revenge. Rumours swirled of a highly confident team, also easily unbeaten in their own season, heading into this winner-takes-all clash allegedly with the advantage of a well-drilled pre-season training somewhere in the foothills of the Himalayas. My own pre-season training had been weeks out over Christmas following a general anaesthetic hernia operation, with enforced convalescence.

Knowing what some of the Radley team were like, I was a little sad not to be able to join in with some of the others’ committed training regime, which most likely consisted of the various enticements of hops, liquor, dances and the rather novel excitement of female attention, all somewhat lacking on the Radley estate!

It is also quite possible that fledgling nicotine habits were being festively nurtured, and brought to fruition behind the bike sheds or at Jackdaw Clump during term-time.

Anyhow, I digress. Back to Stowe. The course was longer, around five miles, and

The Radley 1st VIII after sealing another unbeaten season, Stowe, February 21st 1991 L to R: Chris Hardie (Secretary, G), Joel Brown (H), Ben Pollard (vice-captain, H), Toby Till (captain, B), Ed Moisson (G), James Turner (B), Marcus Wright (B), Tom Benyon (G) boasted a much-dreaded feature known as the Japanese Gardens, a very steep, long, deeply muddy, calf-burning hill. Our arrival was heralded with news that we had to ascend the quagmire three times, not the usual two. We were the away team, not used to longer courses, and to say we were nervous is a considerable understatement.

However, as any of you sportsmen will know, in running – just as in other sports – nerves can be a massive advantage, utilised well to create a centred, balanced focus and sharpened awareness. Breathing in the moment. And as a running unit we always used that to our advantage, prerace. Silence was punctuated with rallying cries of ‘come on guys, think about it …’, and stomachs rumbling with extreme nerves steadied by catching an occasional knowing glint of steel in a Warrior’s eyes before we headed to the start-line as one, all blazing tough red and white.

And so it was. We sprinted off the line, those fearsome white crosses streaming ahead of the opposition right from the getgo. Psychologically the customary sprintstart was a winning tactic, almost the entire Radley VIII ahead after a few hundred metres. This was coupled with PSJD’s insistence on fielding three teams of eight, to Stowe’s solitary VIII. They were swamped by a sea of red all around them, off the start and all the way around them, hemmed in by the Radley pack. Needless to say, victory

was indeed ours, and despite Stowe’s captain and running talisman winning the race, Radley delivered a very solid grouping of positions two through six, then eight, to record a magnificent score of 28 to the opposition’s 64. A dream realised.

So, whilst it may be almost melancholic to reminisce in past glories, you may be wondering what any of this has this to do with 2015 and beyond? Well … another proposal in the 1991 letter was ‘The Warriors’: a team name for the ORs. This had been forgotten until now, but it does seem an apt title to adopt for all those ORs who ran this year, for finding time in busy lives, often travelling far, to stand slightly shivering on a Thursday afternoon in the middle of March, 25 years later, reawakening memories of January Steeplechases and battles fought long ago.

So now let’s return to the 2015 race … the ‘gun’ went and the race unfolded well for the ORs. PMF shot off ahead, and some of the boys held a good early pace, but didn’t appear to possess the stamina to maintain it for the second half of the run, and whilst PMF stormed to an easy victory, he was certainly being hunted down by Chris Tufnell (2nd), Tom Binnie (3rd) and the captain (4th). An eventually comfortable score-line was recorded and presentation in Hall over chips, tea and beans was cheered. the old radleian 2015

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wine and some very fine fare. I know we are all very grateful to GW and Radley for hosting us so generously.

Paul Fernandez (Radley Common Room) leads the field but was followed home by Old Radleians in 2nd (C.Tufnell ), 3rd (Binnie), 4th (Pollard), 6th (Handy), 7th (M.Tufnell), 8th (Astor), 9th (Robson Brown) and 10th (Scott Knight) places.

The after-run programme, however, really made the effort worthwhile. Tours of the marvellous newer school facilities, including arts, theatre, music, science, socials old and new, and sports were kindly organised by PMF, and we even bumped into some of the teachers from our era, HHA and JCN, along the way, for a pleasant chat. Some of us were then able to afford time to sample drinks in Common Room, pay a quick visit to the JCR and attend Chapel. Intriguingly, an OR, completely unknown to any of us, and seemingly unconnected to our day’s own events, then proceeded to give a concise sermon which started off by utilising his experience of his own win-at-all-costs desire to win the Steeplechase whilst at Radley, as a metaphor for the ills of aggressive competition. As I recall it, this was then tempered by his explanation that he had over time mellowed into an approach based more so of community and co-operation. More on that later.

After Chapel, five of us gladly accepted a very kind invitation by GW (Garry Wiseman) to dinner in Common Room, where a convivial atmosphere prevailed and stimulating tales of Radley past and present were shared over a glass or two of 122

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So, this missive is really partly a call to legs, for ORs to run. Reduce that waistline, get out in the fresh air, burn off those alcoholic calories and delicious moreish, yet empty, cake sessions.

After all, humanity was likely made up of land-living wanderers for over 50,000 generations, living, trekking and running wild, yet our present generation of screen-watching workslaves is just one generation old. Can the electromagnetically disruptive computer glare really be what life is about? So, I dare you, those that have succumbed to it, break free from that, get running, or trekking or at least some vigorous walking.

If you want more, come and join in the annual fixture, or come and support, reconnect with the alma mater, enjoy an evening with fellow ORs and have a laugh together. If you are a superfit athletic outdoorsman, well done you … come and run anyway! We’ll be very happy to accept runners of all calibres.

Which brings me on finally to a wider discussion of running, in the context of health and community.

In an age where so-called MAMILS (Middle-aged Men in Lycra) are becoming ever-more commonplace, racing the lanes and highways of Britain and beyond on ever-more advanced carbon graphite racing bicycles, it only seems fitting to celebrate the astonishing parallel surge in the national and international urge to run.

And also to honour the simplicity and purity of running. Many very old-timers will throw in their ha’penny’s worth of the need to protect one’s knees and hips and that actually a fine claret and Sunday silverside of beef are far less injurious to body and spirit. And yet, as I see dayin and day-out in local and regional competitive running, regular running at any level actually can foster a spirit very much like that which Radley aimed to instil in us as young men ‘heading out into the world’. A spirit of effort, commitment, doing one’s best, setting goals and working hard towards them.

In January 1991, I remember clearly visiting my housemaster on my return from the Christmas break, and stating defiantly, certainly rebelliously, that

seeing as I had received an offer for entry to Oxford University (along with an astonishing 40+ other candidates that year), the required grade of A Levels being EE meant I had ‘decided to dedicate myself to running instead’. This didn’t go down well at all. But in my heart I knew it to be what meant the most to me at that time. There was also an element of not liking maths, or more honestly, not really understanding maths. Anyway … my commitment to running could never be faulted, but within it lies another aspect of the complexity of human life. That of community. And within the Radley running community in the late 1980s and early 1990s there was considerable strength, togetherness, loyalty and sacrifice. And greatness.

Running can hurt. Training definitely hurts. Running fast really hurts. It hurts the lungs and the legs, and it can tax the mind and the spirit. Yet, when running in a team, with a common goal, a shared ambition, a desire to do one’s best, not only for oneself, and equally importantly for one’s team (community), then it becomes transparent that the team matters as much as the individual. It’s the running community that counts, it’s the coach that deserves respect and honour as much as the course, the opposition, the conditions, and the will to push on beyond what we think we may be capable of. Beyond the oxygen deficit, the lactic acid fire in our limbs, the screaming-toslow-down mind, we’re there to support one another. This applies equally whatever our pace, fitness and reasons for running.

And significantly, what I have discovered since Radley, is that running can also embody less conventional attributes perhaps not-so-clearly ascribed to in the traditional schools of running? It’s a type of transpersonal psychology, a moving meditation, rising above mental chatter and head-noise, a transcending surmounting of more selfish ambitions, a celebration of a heart-based sense of connection to something higher, pure, freer. Not so much to be called mindful running, as heartful running.

At Oxford I hardly ran. Upon arrival as a nervous 19-year-old undergraduate, I did start training, but inevitably (as many do) discovered parties, booze and its trappings. As such, running ceased, pubs and clubs gladly accepted my sterling, as my private life became much

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more exciting, but the academic record continued on the back-burner. Looking back, perhaps, of everything, I lacked a mentor at University, or in life. But now I realise that everything in life has a message, a teaching, an opportunity to learn and grow. These were big life lessons.

Do I have regrets that I didn’t run at Oxford? I was as good as some of the Blues. But, no, no regrets now. Have I ever had regrets about that? Yes, but they’re outgrown. Because what I see, especially in running, is that a kind of redemption is possible, and putting the effort in is just as rewarding at an older age. If you are really much older, or have debilitating structural injuries then perhaps you need to take professional advice on what is realistic.

And yet, running is one of the sports where performance tends to be achievable at quite a high level, even into some of the middle-aged and older age categories.

At the running club in my home village Eynsham, we recently welcomed an Australian, Keith Bateman, to the club to give a demonstration of the running technique he has developed and detailed in his recent book: ‘Older Yet Faster’. He is current multiple age-group world record holder over five distances: 1500m, mile, 3000m, 5000m and 10,000m. His Veteran over 55 Male record of 31:51.86 for the 10k is way faster than almost all of the Oxfordshire county-level athletes of the current 18 to 40 Senior Men age category.

It was inspiring. And simple.

So, running these days, is just that again.

It’s an inspiring pastime. It’s hard. 15 mile runs on cold winter Sunday mornings, in the rain or bitter winds are challenging.

Even a four mile ‘easy’ run can be a chore when you’re not feeling like it.

Cross country in slicing sleet and hail on the dangerously exposed Wittenham clumps, almost reckless. But yet it offers the opportunity to test oneself again, to find those threads of greatness within, to expose and for some to bring to the light suppressed feelings of ‘I’m not good enough’ or ‘that’s not going to happen’ or ‘there’s no way I’d be able to run a marathon.’ For others it may be to look above and beyond the damnation of the ‘naysayers’ (and there are plenty of those). Transmute fear and negativity into awareness … turn lead into gold. After all, is that perchance part of the metaphorical energetic change of the great alchemists?

Chris Tufnell comes home in 2nd place with Tom Binnie 3rd My ha’penny’s worth would be, should you feel so inclined, to seek out fellow runners, maybe join a running club, join a team, gradually create good bonds of loyalty and friendly rivalry, develop those supportive communities. Enter competitions not in a spirit of persecution and aggressive tribalry, but as a determined assertion of one’s own efforts and abilities in a challenging setting. Actually there are many sages out there who suggest it is what the world could do with right now to shift the story to one of community, sharing and support. Being the best version of yourself, or at the very least, make a concerted push towards your best.

As a beacon to others. It will take time.

One way or another, I am so grateful to the Radley community for cross-country running, and my hope is that some of you will feel the nudge to join ‘The Warriors’ next year, or simply unleash your own warrior spirit through running, at whatever level you like. It has taken me five years to get back to the kind of pace I had at Radley, which has also taught me some deep lessons regarding patience, steadiness, commitment, effort and faith. There have been many ups and many downs, but the graph of fitness and performance is moving steadily upwards.

That much about maths I do know!

Whether you are already top of your game and we see you at Radley next March, or one after, or whether perhaps we don’t see you, but you find the urge to simply dig

out the old trainers and head out down the lane, across the fields or up to the hills, then if it’s been a while: take care of how you approach it, go gently to begin with, and treat your body with kindness.

To end with, deep down within, you might slowly realise that you are your own mentor, you are your own coach and it is within you that you find your own ability and responsibility to parent yourself. That way it can be quite the revelation that you can realise your good intentions in this amazing journey called life.

The next OR match will be in February or March 2016, date to be confirmed.

Please e-mail oldradleianxc@gmail.com to register your interest.

Ben Pollard

The 2016 race will be on a Tuesday in early/mid March, and runners of all abilities and ages are welcome. To sign up for a fun afternoon run and an evening programme of events, just e-mail: oldradleianxc@gmail.com the old radleian 2015

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Golf – Annual Results Autumn Meeting at Royal St. George’s Golf Club, October 2014 Scratch Cup

Winner

William Libby

79

Runner-Up

Simon Peck

80

Handicap

Winner

William Libby

35 points

Runner-Up

Simon Peck

30 points

Veterans

Winner

Bertie Shotton

29 points

(over 55)

Runner-Up

Will Bailey

28 points

Captain’s Prize Foursomes: James Rogers Memorial Trophy

Winners

Jo Oram & Harry Douglas

33 points

Runners-Up

Angus Lambert & Tom Atkinson

30 points

2013 Winner

Simon Peck

76 & 80 = 156

The Birkmyre Salver

Spring Meeting at Denham Golf Club April 2015 Scratch Cup

Winner

Robert Goldsmith

81 (on last 9 holes)

Runner-Up

Adam Leetham

81

Handicap

Winner

Robert Goldsmith

39 points

Runner-Up

Alan Hutchison

35 points

Veterans (over 55)

Winner

Alan Hutchison

35 points

Runner-Up

Simon McCowen

31 points

Bruce Cup (under 35)

Winner

Tommy Haughton

33 points

Runner-Up

Keith Seward

29 points

Foursomes

Winners

Robert Goldsmith & Ben Hawkins

40 points

Runners-Up

Angus Chilvers & Paul Craigen

35 points

Lorne Smith beat William Libby

2/1

Robin Turner Matchplay Trophy at Knole Park

Final

Halford Hewitt The Radley team beat Wellingborough (5-0), Charterhouse (3-2) and Canford (4-1) but were beaten by King’s Canterbury (3-2) Bernard Darwin Radley beat Eton but were beaten by Harrow Senior Darwin Radley were beaten by Uppingham

Full reports of the Halford Hewitt and the Bernard Darwin will appear on the new ORGS website: www.orgs.org.uk 124

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Above: Hugo Melvin (2009) and Adrian West (1992) – they birdied the 18th at Deal to clinch a win for Radley v Charterhouse in the Hewitt Below: Hugh Mackeown (1955) and Harry Douglass (1992)

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every week, and as changes became less frequent, positive results would come. An impressive draw against the Old Marlburians, still flying in the league, was followed by a 4-2 victory against the Old Wykehamists. This was a classic case of the blend of youth and experience coming to fruition for an increasingly confident OR team, with Radley going 1-0 down and the likes of Tobi Ogunsanya, Tom Maxwell and Nick Sydney-Smith rallying the younger troops – the ORs eventually winning 4-2 after some silky glimpses of skill from Luke Cheetham alongside some heroic defending from George CookeYarborough and Jack Trowbridge in particular.

Football

Left to right: George Mitchard, Henry Mills, George Cooke-Yarborough, Jack Trowbridge, Henry Taylour, Ed Hodgson, Os Miller, Rory MacInnes, Charlie Wood, Dan Brownlee, Matt Bailey, Luke Cheetham This was a typically topsy-turvy season for the Old Radleian football team ending in well-earned success. With a high turnover of players week-in week-out, consistency was the initial hindrance for this talented bunch of footballers.

Rather like a dusty gown, initially stuffed to the bottom of the cupboard in early May, only to be hastily called upon for the first chapel service in early September, the ORs were ill-prepared for the first few games of the season. In fact, they shipped goals aplenty and huffed and puffed to three defeats from three.

Despite their initial standing in the league, the ORs had put together some pieces of tidy football. There were plenty of glimpses of attacking flair and dogged determination, mostly marred by calamitous set-piece defending and a predictable lack of fitness.

The early promise came to fruition in the fourth game of the season when the ORs, rooted to the bottom of the league, visited top, the mighty Old Marlburians.

Giant killers they became, courtesy of a thumping first half header from Tommy Hodgson. 1-0 it remained. Off the mark at last.

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Reptonians, Old Etonians (cup) and Old Haileyburians respectively. Seventeen further goals were shipped, not as many were scored. The ORs reaction to the crisis was two-fold. Further younger faces were emerging from the academy to energise wearied legs and scrambled brains, whilst ‘older heads’ were called upon to provide experience.

Heading into the return fixture against Old Westminsters, a reaction was required. Despite trailing 2-0 just after the break, we came roaring back to win 5-3 thanks largely to some clinical finishing and blistering pace from George Mitchard, and some trickery on the wing from Mike Rolt. This was followed up with the season highlight, a 7-0 battering of Old Aldenham where Dan Brownlee’s skilful interventions, Matt Bailey’s intricate passing and Tom Maxwell’s cool finishing humbled the opposition. What could stop the winning run now?!

Christmas, a time of year for loosening the belt-buckle, hampered progress. Three straight defeats followed the mid-season break, and relegation jitters returned. Yet despite the results, there was camaraderie being built within the squad, led by the vice-captain Henry Taylour, jovial off the field, a work-horse on it. The line-ups being put together early in the season would have 5/6 different faces

With six games remaining the ORs were starting to gel, but they came up against an impressive Repton side who were pushing for promotion and defeated us 4-2. Entering the business-end of the season, the ORs were in a good place but they still needed to put a string of results together to ensure their safety in the division for the following season.

An ugly yet crucial draw away at Bradfield on a sodden pitch was followed by a further victory against the Old Wykehamists 3-1, with Charlie Wood particularly impressing with some mazey runs and a crucial intervention on the line. 15 faces turned out for this game, a great reflection of a growing team unity and enjoyment.

This was an unfortunate time for the Radley X1 to come up against a buoyant ORs the following weekend who displayed some fluid passing football to win 3-1. Again, there was high demand to grace the Radley pitches once again and as always, we were well looked after and it was great to return, (to win), and see some familiar friendly faces.

Despite the Champions Chigwell proving too great a hurdle for the ORs in the following game, the ORs finished the season in some serious style, beating the Old Malvernians 6-2, to eventually finish fourth in the division (although only 4 points from bottom!), their highest league finish for some time. Before the last fixture, the ORs had congregated for a Thursday evening curry/end of season awards evening. Fun was had, and it showed on the pitch as they made light work of the opposition in front of them.

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The awards evening and last game showed an excitable enjoyment of turning out for the ORs from all the squad which epitomised the season.

Mike Rolt and Tommy Hodgson won ‘clubmen of the year’ awards for their ongoing contribution to the club.

Mike rolled back the years to go on an extraordinary goalscoring run mid-

season and both were a great influence on the younger members of the squad.

Tom Bective won most improved player for some crucial saves and increasing confidence in goal, while Os Miller was voted as Player of the Season, the engine room in midfield who came into the team and allowed everyone around him to flourish.

Exciting times ahead. A huge thanks to Henry Taylour for all his help in organising referees/pitches/teams and for his performances!

as many ex-masters, whippers-in and followers as possible will join us in this important celebration.

Archie Clifton-Brown M.H

A full report of the season will be in The Radleian. If you wish to attend the Anniversary Dinner please contact: rcbmasters@radley.org.uk

Please get in touch if you would like to play a part: ebghodgson@gmail.com or henrytaylour@googlemail.com

Beagles

The Beagles at Eyeford House, Gloucestershire We have now entered the RCB’s 75th season and are looking forward to the 75th Anniversary Dinner in Hall on Saturday 19th March 2016 and we hope

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Mariners Rowing

BigBlade Photography

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BigBlade Photography

Above and below: The Mariners Four at Henley

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BigBlade Photography

The Mariners four of Edward Rees (2009), Tom Gearing (2005), Hubert Simpson (2008) and Alexander George (2006) rowed in the Wyfold beating Vesta Rowing Club by 3 lengths in the first round but then losing to Molesey Boat Club by 2⅓ lengths.

Ollie Wynne-Griffith (2007) rowed in the Yale crew which won the Ladies’ Plate beating the University of Washington by 2 ¼ lengths in the Final. In the SemiFinals Yale beat Leander Club including Tom George (2008) at 6 by 2/3 length.

Sean Morris (1957) won the ‘H’ Single Sculls (for those aged 70-74) at the Henley Masters in July beating Bort of the USA in the Final.

Tom George (2008) rowed for Great Britain in the Pair at the 2015 World Under 23 Championships in Plovdiv, Bulgaria at the end of July. In a very tight final they finished in 4th place, with only 5 seconds separating the top four crews.

Mahon Cancer Research Trust. Most people will remember Harry’s wonderful contribution to Radley rowing which resulted in the 1998 Princess Elizabeth win and the huge success of all the Radley crews over the years when he was involved. Harry also coached Cambridge and the British Eight which won gold at the Sydney Olympics in 2000. The final total from the Henley tickets is close to £4,000. This added to existing funds has enabled the Trust to buy a Fluorescent Cell Imaging Station for the

Research Team headed by Professor Enzo Cerundolo at the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford.

Harry died in 2001 and since then the Harry Mahon Cancer Research Trust has raised over £100,000.

The Radley Mariners Charitable Trust has given grants this year to support the Radleians who went to the Head of the Charles in Boston, USA in October 2014 and for squad training camps and events.

BigBlade Photography

Donald Legget (1956) helped to coach the St Paul’s crew which won the Princess Elizabeth at Henley. He worked his usual magic with the Stewards’ tickets, collecting spare tickets from Mariners and other well-wishers and distributing them to the Radley parents and supporters. Those who receive tickets were encouraged to give to the Harry

Sean Morris (1957) winning at the Henley Masters

Yale University with Ollie Wyn-Griffith win the Ladies’ at Henley the old radleian 2015

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FISA Igor Meijer

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Detlev Seyb/MyRowingPhoto.com

The Final of the Men’s Fours at the World Junior Championships in Rio – the GB Four with Charlie Elwes (centre) battles it out with Romania (right). There was only half a second between second and fourth places.

Result: 1 Romania 6:17.20, 2 Great Britain 6:19.39, 3 Germany 6:19.65, 4 Greece 6:19.84, 5 United States of America 6:24.92, 6 Spain 6:28.84

Charlie Elwes (third from left) and the GB Junior Four with their Silver Medals

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Sport

Sailing

The crew of boat 4019 – ORSA during the Arrow Trophy Regatta

Last year saw two major events on the sailing front. The annual match against Winchester at Seaview took place on Sunday 20 September. Boys from Radley and Winchester embarked in the Seaview Yacht Club Mermaid keel boats alongside the Old Wykehamists and ORSA. A good day’s sailing was had by all.

The second event was the Arrow Trophy regatta over the weekend 4-5 October 2014. This is an open sailing competition between independent schools, racing in one-design yachts (currently Sunsail F40s) crewed by former pupils. There are usually up to 25 entries which makes for much fun on the start line and around the marks of the Solent! This year ORSA managed to put up a crew of 11 and achieved 5th place out of 25 entries – a great result from a scratch crew.

Future events: ORSA is always on the lookout for any OR wishing to join us for some sailing, no matter what your experience.

Events for the rest of the year are: Seaview (Mermaids) Sunday 20 September 2015 Duke of Wellington Trophy ORSA vs Old Wykehamists James Rickards Cup ORSA vs Radley College

Join the ORSA Facebook Group for more information, or contact one of the ORSA Officers: Andrew Collins (Admiral) Alexis Dogilewski (Commodore) alexis@dogilewski.com Julian Facer (Vice Commodore) jands.facer@gmail.com John Wylie (Rear Commodore) Simon Palmer (Treasurer) simonhpalmer@yahoo.co.uk George Pitcher (Secretary) george.pitcher@hotmail.com

Arrow Trophy, Cowes (Sunsail F40s) 3 & 4 October 2015 Belvidere Cup Queen Mary’s Reservoir (J80s) 14 & 15 November 2015

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News & Notes News & Notes

These are published in year order with an occasional alteration to fit in pictures Captain Edmund Carlisle (1936) Here’s hoping my grandsons will attend the best school in the country (numbers 9 & 10 relations at Radley).

David Humphreys (1936) Until recently I have continued to travel over Europe with small groups. Last Autumn I went solo by train to Nuremberg, very interesting and historical, then coach to Prague to change to train to Brno, Czech Republic, very unspoilt capital of Moravia and finally to Vienna by train. Very interesting museum to Jews in Vienna and to Gypsies/ Romanies in Brno. Now very quiet.

The Revd Brian Harley (1938) celebrated 60 years as an Anglican priest on Trinity Sunday 2014. He was ordained on Trinity Sunday 1954 in Bristol Cathedral. He joined the Franciscans in 1956, and served successively in Papua New Guinea, the Solomon Islands, Australia (NSW) and New Zealand since 1962.

Commander Quintin Des Clayes (1939) Now in my 90th year, still teaching music and working for the Open University. I’m afraid I really must retire soon.

Michael Giles (1939) I am a trustee of Mid and North-East Mind. I work as a volunteer two half days a week in a local Farleigh Hospice shop.

Richard Lannoy (1942) Now housebound with various ailments of old age. Still interested in life and with contacts around the world.

John Bowen-Jones (1944) I am still in Spain, half an hour north of Mojacar.

Quite warm now: 460C so far. A lot of ‘Catch up’ developments including Roass Supermercados etc. Motor vehicle technology & skills 1st class. Spanish peopl every appeasable especially if one speaks the language. I found it easier to learn by association locally without the fear of a ‘minus’ on Tutor’s report. Radleians of my era will surely recall flights of B-17 US Fortresses flying over College. Early morning firing red Verey lights at a certain point. I wondered how many did not return. Actually we did see return flights of some aircraft damaged. We were very keen spotters. We saw John Wilkes (ex 132

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Warden) during his latter years and my wife Grace organised a clerical dinner for 25 of his colleagues. I was a camerero or waiter. PS. It has been noticed that so many ‘Brits’ visiting this area (Almeria) are of dangerously obese proportions. The contents of their supermarket trolleys are of a nature calculated to raise doubts as to their capability of achieving a long and salubrious existence.

Major John Cooper (1944) Three grandsons, one at University and two at Stamford School. Alexander (aged 16) selected to tour with the school rugby tour of South Africa in July.

Michael Found (1944) Now aged 85. Still building scenery and lighting stage at the Woolstore Country Theatre, Codford, near Warminster, Wiltshire.

Hugh Aldersey (1945) Publication of second Book, Know Your Enemy which is a sequel to Irregular Safari. Even though Know Your Enemy was planned two years ago, many of the subversive and terrorist acts covered in the book are happening now! History is again being repeated. A ‘must read’ for politicians and anyone serious about local and national security.

See the Books section on page 38.

Dmitri Kasterine (1945) Tennis three days a week, mostly at US Military Academy at West Point who welcome civilians to play on their courts. Such is the state of American tennis though, when I play on the courts in my local town of Cold Spring, New York, the only players I can find, who are serious players, are either Egyptian or Indian. Just received news that my Kickstarter project to raise money to make a film about the lives of the overlooked and ignored black population of Newburgh, New York has achieved its goal. This means I can start work on it. Newburgh is the once thriving industrial city, with its resplendent Victorian architecture that lies 57 miles up the Hudson River from New York City.

Since the failure of urban renewal in the mid 1960s the city has been in a decline that looks inexorable. My crew is drawn from Newburgh itself including 18 yearold Veronica, who, two years ago when I was making a pilot film alone, asked

me if I needed any help. I said yes, and explained that sometimes groups of young people that I wanted to film vanish when they see me with my camera. “Leave it to me,” she said, “I’ll fix it.” The next day we went out on the streets and the same thing happened. She ran after the group and within a minute or two they returned to where they had been and I filmed them. I asked Veronica what she had said to them. “I told them I was directing a documentary film about Newburgh and that my cameraman, pointing at you, wanted to film them.” My wife Caroline is the story editor and boom operator/ sound recordist. I do the camera and what directing there is in a documentary.

The script appears as we wander the city, and Veronica points to people she knows who have a story. We started out wanting to finish the shooting before October.

Now we see the advantage of extending our shooting. The longer we take, the more chance we have to find interesting people. So now, probably for the next nine months, three days a week the dogs (a Dachshund and an American Staffordshire Terrier) won’t get their walk. They don’t mind: 18 hours a day on or in our bed is just where they like to be.

Andrew Vidal (1945) No exciting news, just enjoying retirement from farming with garden, golf, and geriatric tennis.

Run a village art group and help organise Christmas lights for Tilehurst.

John Clements (1946) Thankfully, I am still enjoying good health, apart from troublesome legs. Because of my family’s long connection with Nyasaland (Malawi) – 3 generations – and my own experiences in that lovely country, I was asked by the editor of several volumes entitled Life & work in Nyasaland, if I would contribute.

I have written five, and researching for these has been a great pleasure and brought back great memories. I recently enjoyed a 2 week visit to my family in Durban – this included a weekend spent in the Drakensberg where we renewed our acquaintance with the Lammergeier [Bearded vulture]. Matters ornithological are still part of my life and a wonderful therapy. I am looking forward to the arrival of my fourth great grandchild – due shortly.

News & Notes (FRSA). I am a British Citizen resident in New York City. Althought retired, I have considerable marketing and branding experience that I am delighted to share with Radleians contemplating a career in this exciting field. My best known clients include Samsung Group in South Korea, Tenaris – a world leader in tubular steel and the Council on Foreign Relations in New York.

John Claisse (1948) General Secretary of the Nauticat Association, a worldwide association of owners of the Finnish built yachts.

David Girling (1948) Still playing golf in Cornwall. Delighted to hear from any contemporaries.

Stephen Haye (1948) After many years abroad (Rwanda, Somalia etc) retired at 66 to read, write, mess about with boats, bikes (500cc) etc. in wooden house looking out to sea. Surrounded by sheep – bahh. Very good neighbours!

Christopher Hill (1948) I am about to start a blog!

Brian Roper (1949) Last year was one of the best for fishing. Three of us, all past members of the Kenya Regiment, set off to our favourite stretch of water on the Rangitaiki river where I landed 1 brown and 3 rainbow trout. Then on to the South Island to land 1 rainbow and 3 salmon. My two rafikis (Swahili for friends) did just as well.

Above: Brian Roper and friend Tim Wright with a good sized brownie. For good fishing come to New Zealand.

Wyndham Rogers-Coltman (1946) We have moved back to Shropshire after 50 years farming in Northumberland to be nearer our family as all three of our children and eleven grandchildren live in Shropshire which is the original home county of both of us.

Tim Voelcker (1946) I think I told you of my last and probably final naval history publication Broke of the Shannon and the War of 1812 [Old Radleian 2013]. My co-editor and I have now withdrawn our proposed joint editorship of The Private Correspondence of Admiral Sir James

Saumarez for the Navy Records Society.

The NRS has rejected our proposal to make partial use of the internet and the earliest slot they would now have for publication is 2022 when, if still alive, I would be 90.

John Payne (1947) Very active in Masonic world. Delighted to help any OR who would like to know more about Freemasonry.

John Rogers (1948) My eightieth year: The big day was June 10th. Our cruising continued with the Azores in February, Murmansk in June and Spain in September. I am able to sing almost properly again following the removal of a lump and the polish of the vocal chords.

Fund raising continues as a member of our church and a greater emphasis on charity in freemasonry and as a Lion.

George Shetliffe (1948) I am still very active in the Vintage Sports Car Club and help to organise our Herefordshire and Welsh off-road trials. I also help to run Friends of Prescott for the Bugatti Owners Club. In December we will have lived in our house for 50 years.

George Freer (1949) Younger daughter ran in London Marathon in 3 hours 43 minutes and the following week in the North Dorset Marathon 3 hours 52 minutes. Son (OR) opened new Art Gallery in Worthing ‘Studio Freer’, selling his paintings and bespoke lighting and paintings of local artists.

Robin Thompson (1947) I am a corporate marketing and branding consultant. I am a fellow of the Royal Society of Arts the old radleian 2015

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News & Notes Nick Salaman (1949) Novel The White Ship coming out in Spring 2016 – a tragic history of the famous wreck in which Henry I’s son was drowned, precipitating 19 years of civil war.

Peter & Sue Van Oss (1949) Peter has recently had a pacemaker fitted, and feels better as a result. Sue is waiting for a new shoulder, and is undergoing treatment for a back problem. Still enjoying South Somerset and are glad to have excellent NHS care. Hoping to visit Radley before too long.

Richard Cottrell (1950) directed The Merchant of Venice in Sydney and is to direct Shaw’s Arms and the Man and Stoppard’s Arcadia for the Sydney Theatre Company.

Tony Heath (1950) Held my third consecutive annual exhibition of my paintings and drawings ‘Body Language’ at the Bankside Gallery by Tate Modern in April 2015. Still advising charity ‘ATD Fourth World’ and Chair of Previous Employer’s Pension Fund. Tennis twice a week and trying to play golf. 2 daughters and 6 grandchildren keeping us busy.

George Metcalfe (1950) Elected Councillor for Canterbury City Council in May 2015. Chairman of the Marlowe Society and 23 years as a mentor with The Prince’s Trust.

David Unwin (1950) Now breeding pedigree Texel sheep.

John Hammersley (1951) On a recent visit to England we went to the Tile Works at the Ironbridge Museum to see John Scott’s exhibition of tiles. It is really wonderful and well worth the visit. Well done John!

The Revd Canon Maurice Friggens (1953) Continue to help out at our local church in Aberdaron on the Lleyn Peninsula, in North Wales. Quite a challenge to compete with a winter storm and waves crashing on the beach twenty yards away.

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Rod de Courcy-Ireland (1951) I recently attended the 100th anniversary of the Battle of Frezenberg (2nd Battle of Ypres) on May 8th 2015. My great uncle Brigadier Hamilton Gault had founded the regiment – Princess Patricia’s Canadian Light Infantry, in August 1914, and Frezenberg was the regiment’s first major battle. As I boarded the Dover-Calais ferry wearing the regimental blazer & tie, I was aproached by a gentleman who asked if I was going to the PPCLI ceremony, when

he introduced himself, I said ‘Weren’t we at school together’! He was Major General Sir Michael Carleton-Smith (1945), whose career I had followed in the OR magazine! We were staying in the same hotel in Ypres, and had a wonderful reunion. The emotional impact of the Regiment receiving the ‘Freedom of the City of Ypres, followed by the evening ceremony at the Menin gate can hardly be put into words! I have also had a long conversation with Michael Bawtree (1951), living in Nova Scotia.

News & Notes Jonathan Towers (1953) I am enjoying retirement having recently ceased to be Under Sheriff for the four Yorkshire counties after holding that post for twenty-seven years. However, I continue to be Honorary Secretary and Treasurer of the Under Sheriff ’s Association and to hold a number of Trusteeships.

now give time and energy to the plight of Palestinians, especially Anglicans there through church links.

David Armitage (1954) We have two grandchildren and are shortly to have a third.

John Hudson (1956) Have just started transcribing my father’s (E. H. Hudson) diaries of his time at Radley for years 1916-1918. Taking a bit of time as writing not very clear. It’s providing an interesting insight of Radley during World War I.

Jeremy Fraser (1954) I have self-published a novel set in 1914 and 1965. The Colour of Evening Light has been very favourably compared with Birdsong which gives me much pleasure. Anyone interested can obtain a copy on Amazon – see the Books section on page 40.

Kenn Back (1955) I co-translated the first edition in English of Cuatro Años en las Orcados del Sur by Juan Manuel Moneta, annotated and edited by the former archivist, Bob Headland, at the Scott Polar Research Institute, Cambridge. First published in Argentina in 1939. It is due to be published by Bernard Quaritch around Christmas 2015 – see the Books section on page 40.

David Stutfield (1955) I have had the good fortune of breeding a new variety of Pelargonium Zonale called Stuts Dream.

The mother plant was Appleblossom. The new variety has inherited its parent’s flower but has introduced a variegated leaf. With a little luck, the variety will be launched at the Chelsea Flower Show in 2016.

Anthony (Stinker) West (1955) Appointed Vice Lord Lieutenant of the Royal County of Berkshire, in April 2015.

Tim Willcocks (1955) A fourth grandchild (to swell Canada’s population), and a new partner. Still enjoying my practice in Bowen Therapy, and teaching it. Globetrotting less these days, but time to fit in a week this year with friends from 1992 in Slovakia. A 2-week camper van outing to Ireland recently to reflect on my near-death caving experience 50 years ago.

Yes, they all keep mind and body active!

The Revd Canon Vincent Ashwin (1956) I recently completed an MA at Nottingham University with a dissertation on Bach’s Cantatas. It was fun being 45 years older than all the other students! I

Richard Exham (1956) Enjoying my retirement. Painting Australian landscapes – planning an exhibition in October 2015.

Some extracts: 30th January 1917 The water closets still frozen they have been frozen for a week or more now and smell terribly.

May 31st 1918 Holiday and a plane landed in the park while I was doing labour and another came over and accidentally dropped his helmet which Joy, mi got.

June 1st 1918 went down to the river and got a 1st whiff, when I came back Lawson told me I had to cox the eight, I had never done so before so I made a mess of it.

9th June 1917 REID GOT VC. First VC College has got I think we are going to have a half holiday for it. Had to watch the match from 2.30-5.30, awful.

17th July 1918 Latin exam was easy ,made a catapult and potted birds out our study window.

11th November 1918 Hurray the Armistice has been signed, we only had a half holiday and weren’t allowed to do anything 12 November 1918 …what splendid terms for the Armistice, surely Germany won’t be able to fight again after all that.

Donald Legget (1956) Coach to CUBC Squad 2015. Consultant Coach to St Paul’s School 1st 8 2015 [St Paul’s won the Princess Elizabeth at Henley this year].

Nigel Moore (1957) has now been married to Liz for 46 years and so far has six grandchildren. He still retains a number of non-executive directorship appointments in the oil and gas and mining sectors.

Miles Morland (1957) In addition to a job investing in Africa through two companies I started (Blakeney Management in 1991 and DPI in 2008).

Bloomsbury are bringing out my second book, Cobra in the Bath, in August 2016 – see the Books section on page 40.

They describe it as a memoir; I prefer to think of it as a book of Adventures.

There is even a bit about Radley which will almost certainly get me struck from the Radleian Society. I have also set up a Foundation whose main purpose is to promote African writing. This year we will co-sponsor literary festivals in Nigeria, Kenya, Somalia, Mozambique and Lesotho; we are the lead sponsors of the Caine Prize for African Literature and the London African Film Festival; and we give African Writing Scholarships.

Tim Gardiner (1958) Appointed Chairman of Tourism for All UK in March 2015.

Joscelyn Godwin (1958) published two books in 2015. The Starlight Years: Love and War at Kelmscott Manor, 1940-1948 (Dovecote Press) is an account of his parents’ tenanacy of William Morris’s historic home, illustrated by their paintings. During part of the time, his father (then called Edward Scott-Snell) was Art Master at Radley. With his wife Stephani he created a fantasy life in the best tradition of English decadence, with paintings to match. Joscelyn’s other book is Upstate Cauldron: Eccentric Spiritual Movements in Early New York State (Suny Press) – see the Books section on page 41.

Jonathan Turner (1958) My oldest son Alexander is now Commanding Officer of the Irish Guards. He is an OE but my youngest son James is hoping to come to Radley in Michaelmas 2016. He is currently at St Peter’s Philadelphia, where my wife Bobbie and I still reside.

Paul Fickling (1959) In the process of buying a house south of Sydney so that we can spend winters in Australia close to two younger grandchildren.

John Lubbock (1959) was awarded an OBE in the New Year Honours for services to the Orchestra of St John’s and People with Autism and Learning Difficulties in Shillingford, Oxford. the old radleian 2015

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News & Notes Roland Huggins (1960) Although still working I now spend 5 months each Summer in our Polish home in Mazurian Lake District.

Roderick Archer (1963) Elected a Governor of Ashford & St Peter’s Hospitals NHS Foundation Trust: Duties focus on management and finances and organisation.

Lt. Col. Mike Lewis (1960) I became a Deputy Lieutenant (DL) in Powys a couple of years ago. This year I am High Sheriff; the highlight so far has been being returning officer for Brecon and Radnor at the Election.

The Revd Canon Charles Cleverly (1964) Made a Canon of Christ Church Cathedral in 2015. Published The Song of Songs – Exploring the Divine Romance (Hodders) in 2015 – see the Books section on page 39.

Raymond Masurel (1960) is a member of the Knights of Malta (Sovereign Order).

Julian Cribb (1964) Latest book: Poisoned Planet, Allen & Unwin, June 2014 – see the Books section on page 39.

Charles Balding (1961) I have retired from accountancy and am now working in our family business.

Tim Catchpole (1961) After A levels in Classics I made an unusual transition into town planning in London and thereafter an even more unusual transition into the master planning of oil and gas developments, steel plants and aluminium smelters worldwide. Now in semiretirement, I have made further transitions into running a classical concert series in SW London (highly unusual considering I was a philistine at school) and into amateur dramatics and Lib Dem politics.

Peter de Winton (1961) I have been treasurer of Homelink for the last 4 years, a day respite centre at Whitton near Twickenham. Under the Government’s Dementia programme we were awarded £750k to construct a new centre, which is greatly helping local Dementia patients.

Patrick Firebrace (1961) I have recently, in my retirement, taken up some further education, doing two years of part time study and obtaining an MSc in Timber Building Conservation from the Weald and Downland Open Air Museum. I am now a minor expert on the life of the death watch beetle larvae!

Captain Robert Guy (1961) After 17 years working as Director and then Consultant of The Japan Society I have resigned and am concentrating on being Executive Director of the Hong Kong Association and Society – business and personal links.

Prof Andrew Hughes Hallett (1961) is Advisor for Economic and Monetary affairs to the European Parliament and Commissioner and to the Scottish Fiscal Commission.

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Peter Troughton (1961) was appointed CBE in Birthday Honours List 2015 [for services to Business, Education and Culture]. He is Chairman, Lowland Investment Co. Plc and Pro Chancellor of the University of Bath.

Kenelm Lewis (1961) Still in practice.

Recently elected Secretary General of the Union of European Veterinary Practicioners.

Julian Richmond-Watson (1961) is Chairman of Newmarket Racecourse and Chairman of the Thoroughbred Breeders Association.

Chip Somers (1961) has now set up in Private Practice in Harley Street.

Giles Catchpole (1962) Merged my Bahrain and London based project incubation business with Cyprus based consultancy and continue to focus on technology transfer activities mainly in the Middle East and South Asia.

James Courage (1962) Retired as CEO of Platinum Guild International after 18 years and setting up marketing programmes in China and India. Recently chairman of the Responsible Jewellery Council.

Charles Crawfurd (1962) Gained First Class Honours Degree in History with Open University. Official guide at Wells Cathedral.

Richard Samuda (1962) Director of Warwick Racecourse, part of the Jockey Club.

Simon North (1964) Still working full time, not allowed to retire even though 65! Very proud as President of the Romsey Show for 2015, something I’ve been involved with at Broadlands all my life.

Also working for the CLA as event control at the Game Fair again. Son very successful head hunter in the city, married daughter having great fun working for Abercrombie & Kent in London. Cancer still held at bay!

Wilson Prichett (1964) Heavily engaged in Missionary Work in Central America. Have built a number of churches and a water system so far.

Christopher Langton (1965) Independent Conflict Research & Analysis (ICRA) has been active in Moldova and Sudan in recent months. Now rowing with Wimbleball RC. Simon Lyster (1965) Board Member, Natural England. Non-Executive Director, Northumbrian Water Group. Chairman, World Land Trust. Trustee, Kilverstone Wildlife Charitable Trust. Trustee, Rural Community County of Essex. Deputy Lieutenant, County of Essex.

Robert Tindall (1965) Still enjoying being a Shropshire Councillor with responsibility for the county’s land and buildings assets also a self-employed consultant specialising in ‘Capital Taxation and the National Heritage’.

Peter Demetriadi (1966) My dressage activities are dogged by bad luck. My mare Diamond was shortlisted for the British team in last year’s World Championship in Working Equitation and tore a ligament just before, We had stem cell therapy rather than surgery and this year we started dressage again at Preliminary level, to work her back up to fitness. Now the ligament has torn again just after we qualified for

News & Notes racingfotos.com/REX Shutterstock

the National Finals for veteran horses 15+ at Peterborough and the SSAD National finals for senior riders (over 60). It was funny at a recent OR gathering to see how many people look at a stout, elderly gent like me and presume it is my wife who rides the horses.

John Goldsmith (1966) Chairman Aston Martin Owners Club 2012-2015. Director Prestigic Holdings.

Nicholas Hedges (1966) Started playing Real Tennis at Radley Sports Centre.

Dr Michael Houghton (1966) I was a GP with special interest in Acute Medicine in the Midlands. My other main interest is teaching which I maintain (both GP registrars and students at Lancaster University). I have reignited my piano playing – the Wharton Piano Prize was pretty much my sole Radley achievement!

I have recently rekindled old friendships with Rev Timothy Lipscomb (1966) and Bishop Julian Henderson (1968).

Sandy Nairne (1966) I have now taken up being Chair of the board of the Clore Leadership Programme, and have recently been appointed to the board of the National Trust. I stepped down from being Director of the National Portrait Gallery at the end of February. I continue to chair the Fabric Advisory Committee of St Paul’s Cathedral, and the Maggie’s Art Group which supports the Maggie’s Cancer Care Centres.

Captain Mike Nixon (1966) Retired at last! Heading home to Cornwall in 2016: to sail, play golf and spend time in God’s own county.

Anthony Trollope-Bellew (1966) I am now the leader of West Somerset Council.

Andrew Kirkconel (1967) Became a grandfather for the first time on 7th June – have had the same mobile phone number for 30 years – a record?

Oliver Larminie (1967) Both our boys have now left Radley and have started at university.

Wold Palmer (1967) We have returned to the UK after three years in Singapore setting up a subsidiary for my company – hard work but good fun getting to know South East Asia.

Kim Bailey (1967) and his wife with Darna after winning at Cheltenham in March. What a fantastic season we had; now I am going to bore you about it. We had 61 winners with a strike rate of 23%.

Yes 61 winners, 32 2nds and 31 3rds. We ran 66 horses of whom 34 individual horses won; we totalled £439,192.00 in prize money. We finished 10th in the numerical list of trainer/winners and all those above us ran nearly twice as many horses as we did; we finished 22nd in the prize money table. Only 6 UK based trainers boasted a better strike rate. The highs of the season have been many...

Darna winning at The Cheltenham Festival. Charingworth winning at Cheltenham in November. Un Ace having such a good season and winning an emotional race at Ascot. Supreme Present winning 4 in the summer and almost becoming the highest rated mare in the country. Able Deputy winning 4 (all ridden

by AP) and going from a rating of 122 to 148 (subsequently sold to the USA), Patsys Castle winning 3 when sheepskins were applied and Jimmy The Jetplane winning 3, although nearly 4 on the bounce. We all said goodbye to the great AP McCoy last

weekend.. a genius who we will all miss..

I certainly will as he rode me 17 winners last season..How can I forget his 4 wins on Able Deputy especially when others all failed... and then there was the incredible win on Un Ace at Ascot, his last winning ride on that racecourse. Jason Maguire rode 15 winners for us but his rides on Knockanrawley, Premier Portrait and Azure Aware were unbelievable and how we miss him. Jason has another back operation this week; a career-saving one and we wish him the very best. David Bass who picked up a spare ride at Towcester last May on Crazy Jack and as a result rode us a total of 16 winners... not bad for a spare one!

The lows and sadly there are always those.

Harry Topper injuring himself, which means that he will miss next season and Knocklayde Express’s fatality at Market Rasen. There always two sides to horse racing, as in any sport, and you have to enjoy those good days.. We have – and we do – racing should be fun after all. I can only say again that I owe a huge thank you to all my owners, staff and jockeys – without you all where would I be. You have all been great. Now we have to build on last season and look to the future.

Andrew Gosling (1968) Still semi-retired living in Yorkshire. Kept busy with three non-exec roles, a bank, a building society and a racecourse (which sounds the most fun?!) and by having (very small)

shares in nine racehorses, which I follow around the country. Both daughters at uni so nearly off the payroll and old enough to leave behind when Susan and I go travelling! the old radleian 2015

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News & Notes racingfotos.com/REX Shutterstock

Nick Arkell (1969) I have been appointed Swan Warden of the Vintners Livery Company for 2015/16.

Mark Darley (1969) After 35 years in Architectural photography, I have now retired as a photographer and Esto, New York, manages my archive. I have embarked on a new venture with a Cider ‘custom crush’ and bottling plant in Washington State in the US, and importing quality organic cider from the West Country to the Western US. Wassail!

John Nugée (1969) I will become Upper Bailiff (ie master) of my livery company, the Worshipful Company of Weavers – the oldest of all the London livery companies – in October 2015. I have launched my own consultancy company – Laburnum Consulting Limited (www. laburnum-consulting.co.uk) and advise on geopolitical and economic themes.

Owen Paterson (1969) retained his Shropshire North seat for the Conservatives with 51.4% of the vote at the General Election.

David Evered (1970) David Evered is now in-house counsel for Lisa Frank Inc in Tucson, Arizona, where he lives with Jacline and Morgan (20), and Grace (17). In addition to protecting Lisa Frank’s Intellectual Property David sings with several local choirs and enjoys the excellent hiking in Southern Arizona.

Christopher Sandford (1970) All going to plan, I should have two books appearing in 2016: On President Kennedy and Britain, and on the real-life adventures of Arthur Conan Doyle. As a bonus, I enjoyed interviewing my old Radley friend Owen Paterson (1969), MP following the recent UK general election.

Dr Michael Brigg (1971) The medical profession has been a difficult place for the past few years but life has been made infinitely better by the joys of foster care.

We look after children who have been taken into care for various reasons, by the Hampshire Social Services – we have elected to care for infants under age 2. It is at times hard but fulfilling work. My wife or myself would happily talk to anyone who is contemplating this kind of work and who would like to know more about what is involved in assessment and in the actual reality of caring for children ‘in care’.

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Oliver Sherwood (1969) Trained Many Clouds the winner of 2015 Hennesy Gold Cup (above right) and the Grand National.

Guy Henderson (1971) has been appointed as the new Chief Executive of Ascot Racecourse.

Colonel John Saville (1971) I have recently become Chairman of the Reserve Forces and Cadets Committee for Sussex (East and West). Any OR who wishes to get involved or who can help the Reserve Forces or Cadets in some way, for example as an Employer, is very welcome to get in touch with me.

Peter Dixon (1973) Recently elected as President of the Royal College of Chiropractors. Also Chairman of ‘Flatcappers’ a pub group with pubs in Wiltshire and Somerset.

Charles Hawkins (1973) We have bought a house in the Snowden National Park and plan to move there in 2016.

I will be leaving the financial services industry in 2016 and seeking ‘alternative activities’ – I cannot call it retirement.

This will include mentoring teenagers, volunteering at Bangor Geological Museum, trustee work, and enjoying the beautiful countryside. No M25, no compliance, Brilliant!

Martin Beck (1974) The past year has seen me reliving and remembering ‘74-’78 as my son Joe started his life at Radley last September, and with a sense of mixed emotions, so far a great experience!

Richard Bertram (1974) I acquired an established Surveying and Property Management business called Beane Wass & Box in April 2014.

Andrew Tyndall (1974) The desk job finally got to me! It took five years! I am now back doing what I do best – running my own show! I teach photography, sell my own photographs of landscapes, do commissioned work for corporations and media, sell other people’s photos in Australia as an agent. Most of all, I love wandering around this beautiful, desolate country capturing its raw, timeless beauty.

Dr Alasdair Emslie (1975) President of the Society of Occupational Medicine 2014-2015. Awarded fellowship of Royal College of Physicians 2015 (FRCP).

Mark Nicholls (1975) I started a business, Tectona, three years ago to help owner/ managers take control of their business through, in the main, providing them with a finance director on a part-time basis. If you are an FD, or run a business why not call 07818 407 061.

Andrew McMurtrie (1976) Chairman of City of London Academy Southwark.

Deputy Chairman Financial Investment Board. Magistrate at Westminster & City of London. Director of City YMCA. Chairman of Coleman Street Ward Club. Liveryman of Salters Company.

Churchwarden of St Olave, Hart Street.

News & Notes

Peter Wolton (1970) was ordained in 2014 by the Bishop of London, attended by the Bishop of Kensington. Everyone in the photo below of the family gathering has strong Radley connections: is a Radleian, is or was married to a Radleian, has a son or had a son at Radley, had a Radleian father or has a close Radleian friend.

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Nigel Odling (1971) I will be sailing legs 1, 2 & 3 of the Clipper Round the World Race: London to Rio, Rio to Cape Town, Cape Town to Albany, W.A. Race start is 30 August 2015. I’ll be racing on Clipper Telemed+ (above).

Robert Altham (1973) I have been a county coordinator for Help for Heroes since it first started. I have set up a new business distributing Solowheels in the UK. These are one wheeled self balancing laptop vehicles and are the best invention since the wheel! www.solowheel.uk.com 140

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News & Notes voluntary work. After completing his A-levels, Lambert studied at the Royal Agricultural College in Cirencester. “I wanted to be a farm manager, but realised that unless you have a farm or are likely to get one, it’s an insecure way of trying to get on with life,” he said.

Instead, he decided he had the skills to be a salesman. In 1981 he took a job with Herdwise, run by Ropner, selling bull semen to farmers. “The business was in dire trouble. I told Jonathan that if he gave me 30% of it for cash I would make it work, and if it didn’t I would give him the stake back.”

James Lambert (1972) From the Sunday Times, 31 May 2015

How I Made It: James Lambert, founder of R&R Ice Cream The day after James Lambert finished school, his father walked him around the family home. It was time to deliver some harsh truths.

“He said if I wanted anything like what we had, I would have to work for it, and that he would give me nothing,” remembered Lambert, who grew up in North Yorkshire.

He got a similarly blunt message from his headmaster at Radley College, the public school he attended in Oxfordshire. “He told me my parents had been able to afford the best education money could buy, and that I was owed less than anybody else in society.”

After taking a job in cattle-breeding, Lambert saw the opportunity to prove he could make his own mark. In 1985, with farmer Jonathan Ropner, Lambert bought a small Yorkshire ice-cream business and set out to transform it into an international enterprise. Helped by £40,000 of loans, they formed Richmond Ice Cream, which specialised in making low-cost products for supermarkets.

Within a year, they had six employees and revenues of £200,000.

Lambert led the business, now called R&R, for 26 years – building it into one of the leading names in Europe through an aggressive acquisition strategy. It gobbled up rivals such as Nestlé’s UK ice-cream business, which added famous names such as Fab ice lollies to its range.

Today R&R makes more than 750m litres of ice cream annually. Its revenues have climbed to just over £675m with profits of £100m last year. Much of its output is still destined for supermarket shelves under own-brand labels for chains such as Tesco, Asda and Aldi.

“When we were small we would look at Unilever and wonder how we could ever compete, but you can if you really want to. Normally it’s just about specialising in something. Don’t try to be all things to all people,” said Lambert, 57.

“We made only tub ice-cream for five years. People would ask us to make lollies and cones and we would say no.”

Tough tactics were also crucial. “You can use a supermarket to weaken your rival,” he said. “We would tender really low prices knowing that some supermarkets wouldn’t give us the contract. Our competitors would continue theirs at very low prices and this would result in them going bust or asking us to buy them.”

Lambert was raised near Harrogate, the second of four children. His father ran a textiles business and his mother did

Four years later Lambert became managing director and joint owner of Herdwise. With Ropner, who died in 2013, he founded Richmond Ice Cream the same year. Lambert ran both companies until Herdwise was sold in 1996. “Then we focused on ice cream,” he said.

Lambert hit the acquisitions trail. In 1998, Richmond merged with the listed ice-lolly maker Treats. The deal turned Richmond into a public company overnight, but the move was not one of Lambert’s best. “We should never have been listed. We went in at 55p in 1998, paid dividends all the way along, and never raised a penny through the stock market,” he said.

When the American private equity firm Oaktree Capital Management acquired R&R in 2006, the share price stood at 753p.

Oaktree paid £183m. “If I had known anything about private equity in those days, it would have been better,” said Lambert, who retained a stake. The company was merged with another of Oaktree’s investments to form R&R Ice Cream.

The new owner helped R&R to raise €350m for acquisitions with a bond issue. “I told Oaktree there were plenty of distressed ice-cream businesses in Europe,” he said. Acquisitions included Kelly’s of Cornwall and manufacturers in France, Italy and Germany. The company topped the Sunday Times Profit Track in 2011 with annual profit growth averaging 210% over three years.

Oaktree sold R&R to PAI Partners in 2013, and Lambert moved to chairman.

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News & Notes His business nous has earned him honours as well as profits. He was named EY UK Entrepreneur of the Year in 2013 for transforming the company into Europe’s largest own-label ice-cream maker, and represented the UK at the world awards in Monte Carlo. He is now chairman of Burton’s Biscuit Company, Animalcare and Wagg Foods.

Lambert lives on a farm outside Richmond with his third wife Jo and their three horses, Fab Lolly, Kelly’s Finest and Nobbly Bobbly. He has two sons from his first marriage. His advice to budding entrepreneurs is to stop hesitating.

“People find thousands of reasons not to start and if you are under 30 and have no marriage or children, you have no excuse,” he said. “Don’t wait and think times will get better or more opportunistic. Even if it’s not the right thing at the time, you will learn so much.”

Guy Arnold (1977) We have launched a new business accreditation standard – ‘Investors in Feedback’ – which audits and accredits business feedback processes to ensure they are fit for purpose in the customer empowered market of today. For more information, please see www.investorsinfeedback.com. I have also completed and had my 2nd book published, Sales through Service – see the Books section on page 39.

Mark Cadbury (1977) I am still playing cricket and tennis each week (averaging 73 this season – after 3 matches). I saw Pete Johnson at Lord’s this year for the New Zealand match, and was caught on camera signalling 4s with an IV sign (something to do with classical education – Hamish Aird taught me Latin O level, which I passed!). My three sons are all doing well and are much better at every sport. I’m looking forward to sponsoring a team at Tim Brocklehurst’s (1979) Flannels 4 Heroes cricket event.

Simon Hart (1977) retained his Carmarthen West & Pembrokeshire South seat for the Conservatives with 43.7% of the vote at the General Election.

George Hollingbery (1977) retained his Meon Valley seat for the Conservatives with 61.1% of the vote at the General Election.

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Julian Pertwee (1977) Enjoying the world of renewably energy. We are now the third largest solar developers on Bloomberg.

Current climate concerns ensure a busy future for the sector. Living in Hampshire surrounded by Radleians current and old.

20th wedding anniversary this year, 1st of our 3 children now starting their year off!

Paul Craven (1978) After 27 years with Schroders, Pimco and Goldman Sachs I retired from the Asset Management world to set up Paul Craven Partners Ltd – offering public speaking, coaching and consulting services on behavioural economics. The science of decision making has always fascinated me, and it’s fun to combine my interest in the mind, markets and magic! I gave 52 talks in 2014 across the globe, and my intention is always to be interesting, relevant and entertaining! Anyone curious can check out my TEDx talk!

Alex Heath (1978) We have recently relocated to Somerset. Our children Hermione (14) and Lysander (12) now happily ensconsed at local schools and I have set up a new equity research business, Wheatfromchaff Ltd in Shepton Mallet; finally escaping the weekly commute to London. Fingers crossed it stays that way.

Alastair Rimmer (1978) Now based in New York for two years setting up and leading our US deals strategy team. Delighted to hear from any OR in New York.

Dee Ward (1978) Based in Angus in Scotland, as well as running my Highland Sporting Estate, I am involved in a number of Tech start-ups based in Dundee and Edinburgh. I have found out that exits always take longer than you expect but when they do come they can be rewarding!

Our son Archie started at Radley this term, and I have started reconnecting with some old Radley friends now that the children are away at school – interesting but no one has changed a whole load!

Angus Chilvers (1979) It was wonderful seeing old Radley friends at Huddy’s memorial service. A very moving occasion.

Oldest son George is in 6.1 in J Social – drama, music and sailing are his passions.

On a business front, I have hung up my paint brush after 8 years of putting sponsor logos on rugby, cricket, and football pitches around the world. Now focusing on mass participation running, cycling and

triathlon events with Human Race and launching a second fund investing in the sports sector.

Justin Grant-Duff (1979) During the last parliament I worked for the Conservatives (unpaid) with the result of an unremarkable victory in Morley & Outwood increasing Tory majority across the region of North Midlands and Pennines. Stood briefly in Newark for the by-election after Patrick Mercer’s resignation – not qualified apparently.

Gary Denman (1980) 5 minutes with Gary Denman on CRN Australia:

Polycom’s A/NZ boss on work, family and his love of cycling.

Where did you grow up?

I was born in Wimbledon, London and lived South West of London as a child. As I grew up, I lived at various places across South West London and lastly in Chelsea where I became a Blues supporter before moving to Sydney in late 2000. In 2009, I moved to Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia for three years and experienced the wonders of South East Asia.

Did you go to University? What did you study there?

I studied accountancy in South West London, but quickly learnt that my interests lay elsewhere and I left after achieving a HND and started in the IT industry implementing, training and supporting multi-user accounting systems. So I have become qualified by experience.

What drew you to the IT industry?

It was a great place to bring a blend of experiences and interests together. As I implemented accounting systems I learnt how to engage with customers and address their needs whilst enjoying a fast moving industry. I also got to engage with different types of technology, which I enjoy. When I moved to Microsoft in 1993 I was a support engineer taking 70 calls a day, resolving technical issues with Microsoft Office, the first version! The energy and excitement in the industry and from customers was incredible. It is often hard for those who were not part of that growth period to understand what an exciting time it was. The IT industry continues to evolve rapidly and disrupt itself and that keeps me fascinated in the work I do.

News & Notes How would you compare the Asian and Australian tech industries?

Living in Malaysia for three years was an amazing experience both professionally and socially, and I would certainly recommend it to everyone. The major differences are: ‘mature market thinking’ versus ‘emerging market thinking’. This can result in very surprising behaviours and results. There are instances where big bold projects are easier to achieve in Asia due to the lack of legacy systems in place, and then others where infrastructure dependency made some things very hard. The Asian market has a pulse and energy that is driving a number of technology trends, including mobility and Social Networking. Asia also looks to Australia for examples of best practice, new ideas and emerging trends. I was constantly being asked about how Australian businesses are adopting new technologies.

Given how close trade links are between Australia and the broader Asia market, this opens up many opportunities for businesses to develop new markets, alliances and customer connections.

What do you do to unwind?

Spending time with family, friends etc.

One of my favourite activities in terms of sport is road cycling. 18 months ago, eight of us participated in a bike ride from Perth to Sydney and we are hoping to do this again next year. It had been an aspiration to do this for eight years. Training three hours every day on a stationary bicycle is very tedious, but it prepares you for the boredom of the Nullabor. In doing the ride you consume around 6,500 calories a day, so three tins of cold baked beans with tuna and soya sauce became a culinary experience, one you do not see on Master Chef! The best part of the day was the 5am ride watching the sunrise across the outback – spectacular.

What makes you laugh?

Funny thing, being British by birth I have a dry sense of humour and need to have fun in what I do.

What is your favourite piece of technology?

I have two – having been in KL I love my rice cooker! It’s just a great way to get dependable cooked rice with no effort.

From a personal side I adore my Kindle eBook. It is a single purpose device that does what it says on the tin. The integration with the Amazon store makes carrying multiple books when travelling, simple, quick and lightweight. I am also very

intrigued by the way it is changing the publishing world by offering everyone the chance to write, publish and sell a book.

Are you married with kids?

Yes I am married with two kids – they are 6 and 4 and that will do nicely.

Adam Fox (1980) In July this year Mark Roberts (1978, F), Martin Asser (1978, F), Oliver Pinsent (1977, F) and I will be enjoying ACDC live at Wembley once again. The last time we went together was in 1982 at the Hammersmith Odeon. We all seem to have kept some hair – not bad considering it was 33 years ago.

George Freeman (1980) retained his mid Norfolk seat for the Conservatives with 52.1% of the vote at the General Election and was re-appointed as Life Sciences Minister. George was first appointed as the Parliamentary under-secretary of state for life sciences last year under the former coalition government. It was the first time such a position had existed under any government, and was welcomed by the industry. George will now continue his review into England’s health technology assessor NICE, as well as a deeper assessment of the broader issues around market access in the UK, which began last year. He will also continue spearheading the Accelerated Access Review, which is speeding up the regulatory pathway for new and highly innovative medicines in the UK. His remaining in the role allows a sense of continuation for pharma and knowledge that this position will exist for at least the next five years – the life of the new Parliament.

Freeman was elected to Parliament in 2010 after a 15-year career across the life sciences sector, in particular working with hospitals, clinical researchers, patient groups and biomedical research companies to pioneer novel healthcare innovations.

Lt Col James Hamilton (1980) We are still living in Abu Dhabi, where we have been since I left the Army 5 years ago. I am managing programmes of work in a local management consultancy, focussing on Government clients. We have 2 sons, just turning 13 and 8 years old.

Dominic Peskin (1980) Son Zac now at Radley in B social. Living in Bucklebury, commuting to London. CEO of Cloud Computing Company.

Tim Chapman (1981) I left the City in December 2014 after 24 years as an Oil and Gas corporate financier. Established Geopoint Advisory in early 2015 as an independent advisor to the energy sector. Two sons, Harry and James, at Alleyn’s School. We all cram in as much sport as possible with summer dominated by cricket.

Colonel Harry Fullerton (1981) I left the Army in July 2014 and now work for a small and growing cloud services company called Skyscape. We have moved to a village in the Pang Valley.

Richard Johnson (1981) Usually make the Radley vs Sherborne Rugby matches, but supporting 2 sons playing for the latter! Living in Dorset with our 4 children still, and keeping up Zimbabwe connections with family and wildlife conservation there.

Steve Baldwin (1982) After 25 years in the city, I have left to get a better balance in my life and am now doing non-executive roles and spending more time with my family, which I am thoroughly enjoying.

Shane Barker (1982) Recently qualified as a GP and working in South London in a GP practice and in urgent care.

Remarried with too many children!

Julian Facer (1982) Now commanding the Defence Helicopter Flying School at RAF Shawbury.

Piers German (1982) George German is now 6 years old and thriving at Dulwich Prep school in London. I am busy in Victoria running Burns & German Vintners. We look after private clients finding them great wines to drink and also to lay down in cellars for the future.

If you would be interested in hearing about wine and services please do get in touch or drop in to our office in Victoria – there is always a bottle open! piers@bgvintners.co.uk.

Chris Tufnell (1982) was elected as Vice President of the Royal College of Veterinary Surgeons in July. Harry is heading for Radley next year with Hector following close behind.

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News & Notes Simon Wilson Stephens (1982) Smokesilver Travel continues to arrange bespoke safaris to Africa.

Tanzania and Botswana are the two favourite destinations for 2015 with the Mozambique coast and its unspoilt beaches extremely popular for the end of safari relaxation. www.smokesilvertravel.com David Baldwin (1983) 2 Children: Arthur & Ariana – born 23/8/13 (twins) Luke Neale (1983) The family stud managed to breed its first group 1 winner, a horse called Spillway who won the group 1 Australian Cup down in Melbourne, Australia. My wife and I had our second daughter (and last!), Daisy to add to our first daughter Poppy.

Adrian Theed (1983) rowed for London Rowing Club and won the D Eights by over 2 lengths at the Masters Championships at Nottingham in June.

Still rowing in London, cycling when time allows. Just completed the Goppin Mud Challenge for charity.

Rupert Haigh (1984) The fourth edition of my book, Legal English, was published

by Routledge in February 2015. No household should be without this learned tome, which also makes a very acceptable and attractive paperweight, doorstop or draught-exclusion aid – see the Books section on page 39.

Peter Wright (1984) Still involved in the Polo world and officiated in the Argentine Open Final of 2014. Travelling the world and still loving it!

James Bilderbeck (1985) Married with two children, two dogs, two horses, just one wife though! Living in Hampshire and working for the Energy Marketing Group, known as Energy Live, a boutique ‘Live Engagement’ agency specialising in Live events & experimental marketing clients. Still a keen sportsman, with a love of classic cars, of which I race my own, a Turner MK1 in a pre-63 GT series as well as Goodwood.

Sam Eccles (1985) Living in Oxenwood (near Hungerford) with wife and 4 children. Working in London (marketing).

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Mark Muschamp (1985) is an advocate for animal rights and a Senior Volunteer with the direct action charity Sea Shepherd Conservation Society and Sea Shepherd UK, campaigning around the globe for the conservation of marine wildlife. We have a fleet of ships, aircraft and small marine craft which are used to intercept illegal poaching of marine wildlife in all waters.

We are particularly active in the Antarctic waters of the Southern Ocean. I am a regular speaker at UK events and festivals and have spent time in Japan campaigning to bring an end to whaling and the drive hunting of dolphins and small cetaceans.

Married with three children and living in Gloucestershire, I am also UK Sales Director for an Irish company in the automotive industry.

Mike Tufnell (1985) Bertie started in G Social in September 2015.

Ben Twiston-Davies (1985) Rebecca and I live in rural Herts, Leo (toddler) and Felix (baby) keep us busy. I continue to make sculpture: www.bentwistondavies.com Nicholas Christie (1986) is now CEO of his own company, Jump 7 (jump7.co.uk), who help get suppliers of innovative, fun, unique or problem solving products into UK or international retailers. Do contact me if I can help. Living in ‘Nappy Valley’ aka Wandsworth, SW London with his wife and 3 children Jack, Poppy and Tilly.

Vasco Litchfield (1987) Living in Notting Hill with Nina and two kids (so far). Working at Lazard. Hope to see more Radleians!

Charlie Miller (1987) Charlie and Nomi were thrilled to announce the birth of their first child, a son, Humphrey, in March 2015.

Alistair Peck (1987) Living in Kent.

Older. More tired. Not much wiser. Two lovely boys. One lovely wife.

Pelham Stevens (1987) I met Iris in South Africa in 2012 and we got married on the Kleine Scheidegg in Switzerland, (near her home, Bern) in 2013. After 15 months in Kenya, running a safari camp, we have returned and little Raphael was born in February! Loving living back in Cirencester.

Mike Ellicock (1988) In April he ran the London Marathon for Support our Paras and the charity he set up and leads, National Numeracy. He ran with a 20lbs pack and finished in 2 hours 56.39 beating the exisiting Guiness World Record by 10 minutes. http://uk.virginmoneygiving. com/MikeEllicock Joe Petyan (1988) Having nearly died twice in 2014 (Motorcycle and Peritonitis related incidents) I am delighted to have nothing to report in 2015. So far.

Toby Till (1986) Just completed 2 and a half years in command of 1st Battalion Coldstream Guards. Exercising this year in Romania, Oman, Norway, Belize, Kenya and the US. Moving on to a staff role in the HQ 3rd Division in Bulford shortly.

Living in Wiltshire with Mary, two boys and a girl.

Paddy Pritchard-Gordon (1988) Opened the Knight Frank Bishop’s Stortford office, 2015. Do pop in if you are driving up the M11.

Alex Yearsley (1986) set up Martello Risk, a Business Intelligence and Political Risk Consultancy focussing on Africa, the Middle East and Eastern Europe – after a twelve year career working for the campaigning Human Rights and Global Witness, where he instigated the Global Campaign on Blood Diamonds and campaigned and investigated corruption in the extractive, banking and arms industries. He is captain of his village cricket team Firle and they are in Division Three of the East Sussex League. Collects vintage bikes from WW2 and still follows the Grateful Dead.

Julian Harvey (1989) I moved law firms last year and joined Penningtons Manches LLP where I am partner in the corporate department. Will Axtell (1987), another OR, joined around the same time, and is also a partner in the same team. I live in Ashtead, Surrey, married to Helen with two boys George (6) and Jack (4) who keep us busy. Playing a lot of squash and golf, time permitting, at the RAC.

James Gayner (1989) Awarded MBE in 2015 New Year’s Honours List. Promoted to Lieutenant Colonel in May 2015.

News & Notes Douglas Ker (1989) After 15 years in the insurance industry most recently as head of operations of Aspen Insurance, Doug took a risk and joined his wife’s business designing handbags for global sale, stocked in Fortnum & Mason and Harvey Nicholls.

The business has expanded globally and the handbags are now stocked in over 50 stores worldwide. Opened first retail store in Notting Hill and further retail expansion is on the horizon.

Nicholas Lear (1989) Nick and Cate Lear are serving with Iris Global working with youth in the townships of Cape Town, South Africa.

Robin Martin-Jenkins (1989) Have moved to Harrow as master in charge of Cricket. Looking forward to returning to Bigside each year.

Philip Turner (1989) I’m currently an Equity Trader for an American Investment Management firm based in Belgravia, London. This year I got married and we are lucky enough to have a baby boy on the way, due in August. We are already looking forward to putting him down for Radley!

Hodge Vacher (1989) Married Daisy in a garden in the middle of the desert in Tucson, Arizona 14/4/2012. Post 3 year part-time MBA completion, retired from 20 year tour guiding career in 2014.

Joined renewable energy start up project in biofuel sector, now full time focus.

Reconnected with Tim Walker (1988, E) after 20 years. Both living in Central Switzerland/Zurich area. Anyone else in the region/country? Always looking out for new start up opportunities.

Tom Ashby (1990) Jemima was born on 1st April 2015. A sister for Poppy-Alice.

We remain in Wandsworth Town for the time being!

Jonathan Hunt (1989)/Buddy Monro starred in a new series: Experimental in which he travels the world with Tim Shaw to re-create some of the most famous videos to have appeared on the internet, hoping to find the scientific truth behind them. The first of three episodes included playing tennis on the wing of an aircraft and waterskiing on a table top with two bar stools, was on Channel 4 on Sunday 26 July. the old radleian 2015

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Nicholas Young (1989) and Maureen are proud to announce the birth of their first child, Cassandra, born on the 9th February. We are still living in South West London, and running a website development company.

The Revd. Tony Heywood (1990) Grace Church has now been meeting weekly (at 4pm on Sunday afternoons) for 18 months. It’s been encouraging to see some growth in recent months including within the large immigrant population with 2 former drug addict Lithuanian lads coming along on Sundays and to the Tuesday home group. Over a third of the congregation are under 16 and we’re expecting our 2nd child in late October to add to the fun and games! Life is busy with my role as team vicar in the 5 other churches in and around Thetford but it’s been fun to play a few games of cricket for Norwich diocese. The standard is about 2 rungs below village so it’s quite easy to put in some star performances!

Alastair Spitzley (1990) Living and working in Oakland, California. 2nd son due in August.

Timothy Worsley (1990) It’s been a busy few years moving the family of five from London to Worcestershire, building our new family home and pushing forward with our design and branding agency – Big Helping, now set up locally. Life has been tough, but life is good!

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Above: The Enfield Haunting

Jamie Campbell (1990) Channel 4 recently invested in my company, Eleven Film, taking a minority stake.

We made two drama series this year: Glue, and eight part series set in the countryside, and The Enfield Haunting, starring Timothy Spall, Matthew Macfadyen and Juliet Stevenson. We also made a documentary for Channel 4 about men in pubs, called The Secret Life of the Pub. I was executive producer of these productions.

Below: The Secret Life of the Pub

News & Notes Peter Acloque (1991) I have been at PWC for nearly 14 years where I am a Director working in the oil and gas/mining/ renewable sector. I live in Hampshire near Andover with my wife of ten years (Annabel) and 3 sons: Freddie (7), George (6) and Patrick (2). Between work and family life I like to fish for anything on a fly.

Dr Jonathan Bond (1991) Another baby boy called Sam born in November. Little brother for Robin. Still living and working as a GP in beautiful Dorset.

James Amos (1991) Enjoying working in the family business Boodles, and living in London for another year or two. Twin boys Harry and Johnny (3) are about to be joined by a little sister...

Oliver Close-Brooks (1991) married Emma Wilson in 2012. He is coming up to his tenth year working for Energy Innovations, a renewable energy business, having helped to establish the company in 2006. The company has grown from 3 to 60 people since then with offices in East Anglia, the West & South West, and the Midlands. Oliver and Emma are expecting a baby in November.

Roddy Christie (1991) married Lucy Heyman in Skiathos, Greece in August 2014. Now living in Shewsbury.

Oliver Emley (1991) Daughter, Amber, born 6/12/14.

Alexander Hay (1991) Delighted to announce the arrival of Eddie in October, a brother for Chloe and Will.

Alexander Low (1991) We became proud parents on 21st May to our beautiful daughter, Olivia Hope Swinton Low.

Tim Platt (1991) Juniper Miranda Platt born 11th October 2014.

Milo Skene (1991) Leaving the Army after 12 years to pursue new challenges.

Charles Starmer-Smith (1991) is Head of Travel at the Daily Telegraph.

Edward Tuke (1991) Emily & I are pleased to welcome a second daughter, Clemency, a sister for Ottilie, and I look forward to adjusting to a life amongst the girls, a change from five years at Radley for certain.

Russell Warren (1991) and Kate have two children: Evie, aged 2 and a half, born 28/12/2013 and Theo, aged 1 year, born 18/04/2014. Both were born in Singapore. Now living in Houston, Texas.

Ben Dean (1992) was interviewed by John Humphries on the Radio 4 Today programme in January. This followed his successful appeal to a refusal by the GMC to release papers on the report on Medical Training.

Brett Erskine-Naylor (1992) has returned to the Scots DG having been at Army Headquarters in Andover. He will be part of the closing of Fallingbostel in Germany, where they have been stationed for 40 years and will be at the start of the new era in Scotland when they arrive at Leuchars. His brother Maxim, the Regimental Ops. Officer, will be moving with Brett, so the two of them will be serving together for the first time since Iraq in 2008.

James Keith (1992) For the last three years I have been piloting drones, using them to shoot cinematography for all mediums from web shorts to feature films. We have been very lucky to develop our company right at the start of the aerial media revolution, securing us a good reputation and a solid client list.

These days we are so busy we are looking at growing the company – a great situation to be in when the industry is a particularly tough nut to crack and living in the depths of Cornwall. Positive futures we hope – onward and upward! www.cinehawk.co.uk

Alastair Lamb (1992) Making plans for spending 2016 in Melbourne doing a robotic surgery fellowship at Peter MacCallum Cancer Centre as final part of my clinical training. All going out together with Emily (7) and Joshua (5) spending the year in primary school there and Helen looking out for some HR work. Looking forward to getting involved in another church, possibly St Jude’s.

Research side of things continues and will be useful to pick up some prostate cancer collaborations while in Australia.

Edward Legget (1992) is on gardening leave for six months before he joins Artemis in Edinburgh in December or early in the New Year. Mark Tyndall (1971) was one of the founders of Artemis in 1997.

Simon Davidson (1993) Emilia was born in October. 3 year old Annabelle delighted to have a baby sister.

Gareth Edwards (1993) I am working as a television presenter for a travel show in China. This takes me to different provinces and countries within Asia.

Additionally I have built my own Headhunting company in the legal sector.

ORs are welcome to reach out.

Will Stemp (1993) I moved to Chubb in July 2014 after four years in Willis. Now underwriting Casualty and Life Science Risks and thoroughly enjoying it. My wife is due to give birth to our second child (Sasha William) in July 2015. We also moved house in June 2014 so it has been a busy time! Charlotte (now 3) starting primary school in September, and is now trilingual!

James Amar (1994) The family has grown from two to four, with the additions of Monty (the Dog) and Mathilda (the daughter)! All of which necessitated a domestic move to Buckinghamshire...

Edward Arkell (1994) I took over the Clerk of the Course’s job at Lingfield Park Racecourse in September in addition to Fontwell and Brighton so I am now running 9% of UK Horse Racing fixtures. Our first child Harry was born in February, so a busy six months!

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News & Notes

Joe Lampe (1992) I had a great opportunity to attend the IBSC (International Boys’ Schools Coalition) conference in Cape Town this summer, where I had the pleasure of catching up with Mr. Moule. We talked at length about Radley, and all of the changes that have taken place since my time there in 1996-97. We also spoke about Kent School, my alma mater, which enjoys a long history with Radley, including a recent visit from Radley’s choir last year. It felt good to water my Radleian roots.

Marc Edwards (1994) currently presents sport on BBC World but can also be seen presenting sport on BBC Breakfast.

Oliver Gibson (1994) After 11 years at WA Ellis, the firm was sold to JLL (Jones Lang LaSalle) in 2014. I am now a Director in JLL’s Residential Development and Investment department, specialising in prime central London property.

Meanwhile, my car obsession continues!

I am currently leading the Caterham 7 Mega Graduates championship, racing in 15 races across the UK and Europe during 2015. Fellow OR, Olly Marshall’s (1994) ProSpeed Motorsport business provides mechanical support. I hope to become 2015 Champion – sponsorship enquiries are always welcome.

Philip Hoare (1994) Selling and buying farms and estates across central England with Savills. Living in South Northamptonshire with wife Clemmie and son Harry (Born January 2015).

Guy Milne (1994) Recently moved to St Mary Bourne in Hampshire with my two girls, Octavia and Lulu, and wife Polly. I have also just moved to BNP Paribas from Strutt & Parker.

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Edward Parsloe (1994) Married Katie Henderson in July.

Rich Bristow (1995) According to our Facebook spies, Rich became engaged to Annabel Webb in January 2015.

Charles Hotham (1995) married Emma Carrington Brook in May. Nick Phillips (1995) Frederick John Phillips born to Nick and Frances 1st May 2014.

Edward Portman (1996) Living in London for 10 years now. Got married in Buenos Aires in March 2014 to Pepa Leonhardt. Amalia Cicely arrived on 10th April 2015.Being a girl unfortunately we can’t put her down for Radley! We’ll try for another child soon. If it’s a boy, Pepa & I will be in touch!

Henry Close-Brooks (1997) Henry CloseBrooks, currently working at Deloitte, is marrying Laura Sanderson, an ecologist, in August 2015.

Sam Parker (1997) in late November 2014 he announced his engagement to Henrietta Walker.

News & Notes

Nik Slingsby (1992) won the BAFTA, as part of Bungie/Activision Studios, for Destiny, Game of the Year 2015. Destiny starring Peter Dinklage and with a soundtrack by Paul McCartney, garnered over 180 awards and nominations worldwide. It grossed over $500 million on its first day of release and became the best-selling new video game IP of all time. Nik told us: As it’s the prize for Best Game, it’s awarded to the studio for everyone to share but I was lucky enough to attend as it’s a British award and I looked after the project for Europe and Asia.

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Nick Cunard/REX Shutterstock

News & Notes

Sanderson Jones (Tom Shelley) (1994) Two comedians named Sanderson Jones and Pippa Evans developed the idea of establishing the first atheist church in England, and they’ve pulled it off.

Located in London, the church held its first service in 2013. Its first guest lecturer was children’s book author Andy Stanton. We thought it would be a

shame not to enjoy the good stuff about religion, like the sense of community, just because of a theological disagreement, Jones said. What exactly goes on at this church for atheists? Some people may like its feel-good vibe. Jones describes the crowd as, a godless congregation that will meet on the first Sunday of every month to hear great talks, sing songs and

generally celebrate the wonder of life. The church even has its own Twitter account, @SundayAssembly. Their motto: live better, help often, wonder more. Our mission: to help everyone find and fulfill their full potential. Our vision: a godless congregation in every town, city and village that wants one. For more details go to: https://sundayassembly.com

Edward Quicke (1997) Has been promoted to Major and will now attend Staff College in Shrivenham before taking up a post in the MOD in London.

Village Focus International. It would be great to see some ORs take on a Mad Dog Challenge! www.gomaddogs.com

David Lloyd (1998) Sofia and I are now the proud parents of Clara (09/11/2012), and Lucas (13/02/2015) who I have just registered for Radley for c.2028! Still at BofAML [Bank of America Merrill Lynch] and live in Fulham.

Humphrey Wilson (1997) I have now been living in Hong Kong for more than five years; Currently based in Hollywood Road, Central. I am being kept very busy with Mad Dogs, an adventure cycling venture I set up in 2014. We organise cycling events all over Asia, including: Hong Kong to Hanoi; Hanoi to Bangkok; Singapore to Krabi; Tokyo to Sapporo and Angkor Wat to Phnom Penh, which supports the anti human trafficking charity 150

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Nicholas Ashford (1998) moved back to London from Dubai after 4 years to start Fordhouse Equity, a private equity firm with fellow 1998 A Social OR Freddie Bellhouse. The business has made two acquisitions in the telecoms sector so far, having raised capital from investors. Nicholas is playing Rugby for Richmond.

Charles Heller (1998) Engaged! Started a business with Isla: Mon Breton selling customised Breton shirts. Became a management consultant.

Hugh Powell (1998) After completing MRCPCH and working as a paediatric registrar in King’s Lynn for a year, I am now changing to re-train as a GP, taking my speciality experience into the Primary Care domain.

Michael Quicke (1998) Working as an Army Doctor. Married to Emily (also a Doctor). We have two wonderful children, Rupert and Flora.

News & Notes

Henry Reily-Collins (1997) see next page

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News & Notes Henry Reily-Collins (1997) From The Daily Telegraph Saturday 13 December 2014

Power to the Aristocracy A young engineer is bringing new energy to Britain’s stately homes.

Christopher Middleton reports: Henry Reily-Collins is a young engineer and is bringing hydropower to Blenheim Palace and Britain’s other stately homes.

Over the years, we’ve been told to go to work on an egg and drink a pint of milk a day. Now, though, we’re being invited to take up another offer: Earn Revenue From Your River.

That’s the slogan coined by Henry ReilyCollins, a 30-year-old engineer who is helping home owners save money on their energy bills, by harnessing water power.

All you need, he says, is a reasonably sized stream or river. Then, by applying the science of water power, he can save you money. Maybe even create a situation where it’s not you who’s paying the electricity or gas company – but them paying you.

He’s hardly started off small. His first customer is not your average suburban two-up-two-down, but mighty Blenheim Palace, in Oxfordshire.

It’s at the point where the rivers Glyme and Evenlode meet that Henry has installed his first bit of hydro-magic. He has built a large, maroon metal tube, and placed inside it a corkscrew device called an Archimedes’ screw.

So while some of the water descends via an eye-catching cascade called the Bladon waterfall, some of it is siphoned off down the pipe. Its downward impetus sets the corkscrew whirling, thereby generating electricity.

“The water descends at a 22-degree angle, turning the screw at 30 revolutions per minute,” says Henry. “The amount of electricity we generate means that instead of paying 14p per unit, the estate only has to pay 4.6p per unit.

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“On top of which, we get a subsidy from the government, and also help keep fish stocks up. Whereas the drop from the waterfall used to kill the fish, they now survive their trip through the Archimedes’ screw.”

It was four years ago that Henry first approached the estate. He may not have had a lot of experience, but what he did have was an engineering qualification – and deep reserves of patience.

“The thing is, when you’re in hydropower, you have to play the long game,” he says. “The financial returns will come in the end, but it’s a slow business. With the Blenheim project, the amount of electricity produced is enough to power 20 houses for a year, but in some cases you can be waiting anything from eight to 10 years.”

And it is in that same spirit of biding your time that he has approached the past decade.

“The first thing I did with my student grant, when I went up to Manchester University, was to buy a house,” he recalls.

“The house was in Moss Side [this is a boy who went to Radley], and it cost me £40,000 back in the days when you could get a 100 per cent mortgage.”

It was, however, all part of a larger plan.

At school, one of his first pioneering engineering schemes was making a distillery out of copper pipes and brewing up moonshine for his contemporaries.

More recently, having left university, he has spent many days driving up and down the country looking for watercourses that would suit his schemes.

“I quite often visit six or seven sites a day, and sleep overnight in the car,” he says (his 80-miles-to-the-gallon Skoda Estate is one of the few cars where you can fold the back seats down flat and into a bed).

“I carry on until I run out of daylight, at which point I stop, get the kitchen sink out and make myself a cup of tea or coffee.

“I am specifically looking for places where there has been a saw mill or flour mill in the past, because those are the locations where the force of the water

will be greatest, and where a hydropower scheme can achieve energy savings for home owners living nearby.

“I feel I’m in quite distinguished company. Brunel used to do roughly the same, being conveyed around the country in a purpose-built carriage. In order to do my written work, I have fitted a wooden panel onto the steering wheel, to act both as a desk and as somewhere to rest my computer.”

One tactic that has certainly paid off for Henry is to approach the owners of stately, rather than everyday, homes.

He finds that they tend to take a longdistance, rather than short-term, view.

“I was a bit anxious, for example, when I went to Broughton Castle [also in Oxfordshire], and said that, with hydropower, the best policy was to look 10 or 20 years ahead. To my surprise, the owner said that 10 or 20 years was nothing. He was having to look 50 years ahead!

“I also came up with a way to stop the draughts. The owner of the castle had an Asian wife, and her father had given strict instructions that if she was to live in the UK, at least she should be kept warm.

“Naturally, the castle was a bit draughty, so I came up with an alternative to the constant wearing of jumpers by devising a way of reducing airflow through traditional, rather irregularly panelled windows. It involves a mixture of clear silicone sheeting and linseed oil, and it really does work.”

Henry also has a family firm to provide support, both personally and professionally. It’s called Hallidays Developments, and as well as incorporating an online antiques business, it has a property development business and a carved wood-panelling design wing (clients include the artist Damien Hirst, whose panelling is themed around skulls and butterflies).

It also contains another vital component, in the form of Henry’s mother Binnie, who has a winning way when it comes to convincing the owners of stately piles that Henry could help them make big savings.

News & Notes

“She gets me through the door, and after that it’s up to me,” he says, smiling.

“One thing that impresses people is that I belong to the Worshipful Company of Ironmongers.”

before. So we can work as a consultant, smoothing the way.

Increasingly, too, his words fall on receptive ears, especially since he offers not just to come in on the project financially, but to help the owners negotiate the long and drawn-out planning procedures that accompany any hydro scheme.

The good news, though, from Henry’s point of view, is that he thinks that there are 4,000 sites in the UK where hydropower schemes would be viable, especially if they qualify for a 30 per cent rebate offered by the government.

“Quite often, someone who owns a stately home has to put their proposals not just to the local authority but to the Environment Agency and, sometimes, if their site has a lot of historic and cultural importance, to Unesco,” says Henry.

“That can be extremely daunting, but we have the advantage of having done it all

“As always, however, you can’t rush the process. It all takes time.”

Already, he has installed two other Archimedes’ screws, one at Dandridge’s Mill, in Oxfordshire, and another for the National Trust at Morden Hall, south-west London. Plus, there is another hydropower scheme bubbling under back at Blenheim.

The Blenheim Mark Two project is even bigger than its predecessor, and involves harnessing the power of a much bigger

waterfall, the famous Blenheim Cascade – constructed by landscape architect Capability Brown, in 1764 – with the help of turbines that were installed in Victorian times, but have since fallen into disuse.

“I don’t think they’ve been working for the past 30 years or so,” says Blenheim’s chief plumbing officer Chris Monaghan, eyeing large, black metal tubing twice the size of an elephant’s trunk. “But they still have a part to play.”

It is, Henry insists, a case of going back to the future.

“The great thing is that many of these stately homes used to be powered by water. All we are doing is reintroducing a technology that we thought we had lost, but which we have now, at long last, rediscovered.”

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News & Notes

Hannah Fraser-Mackenzie (Hannah Nye) (1999) Hannah married Rory on Saturday 29th August 2015, to become a Fraser-Mackenzie.

They live in Didcot with their two lovely bunnies, Pepper & Polo. Hannah continues to perform as a classical soprano soloist, and with the Philharmonia Chorus.

Alex Whittington (1998) I’m currently working as a Senior Manager for a charity based near Battle, East Sussex. I’m very happy to announce I was married in July to Rachel Bell.

William Verrill (1999) Announced his engagement in 2014.

Tom Bolter (2001) Our Facebook spy told us Tom announced his engagement in 2014.

Harry Towers (2001) Working as a private chef and running an eco-tourism led conservation project on the island of Carna in Scotland; conserving native bees, rare breeds and important habitat, see www.carnaconservation.org.

James Roupell (2001) I appeared on Dragons’ Den with my toy business BoBo Buddies.

I received offers of investment from all 5 dragons. We design and sell great quality soft toys that are cute for kids and practical for parents.

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News & Notes Tom Evetts (2003) Living in Sevilla building a body of work to exhibit in late 2016.

Nick Pelly-Fry (2003) Taking part in the Dumball Rally in January 2016 across India in old Indian Taxis in aid of Teenage Cancer Trust and the Nepal Earthquake Appeal. Now running Grand Design Blinds with my father – specialising in blinds for shaped glazing.

Tom Atkinson (2004) I recently completed an MSc at the London School of Economics. I am now working in Investment Management and have the joy of studying towards the CFA Qualification.

Beyond work I am enjoying involvement with the OR Golf Society and playing some competitive Golf for my home club.

Frederic Bolton (2004) I have spent 16 months working for a venture capital company in South-East Asia specialising in real estate and natural resources.

I have now returned to London to work for Bloomberg in their mining and assets team.

Max Rendall (2003) Performed for celebrities such as Sienna Miller, Brian Lara, Bob Geldof and the Royal Family of Udaipur. Performed a TEDx talk at MacQuarie University in Sydney, on Youtube and can be found by searching ‘Magical Max Rendall’. Has performed in the ‘Magician’s Cabaret’ as a principal character for four years.

Guthrie Fenton (2005) cycled the length of South America unsupported for charity.

Raised over our target of £80,000. For more info of the trip: www.uppingtheandes.com, or email: guthriefenton@hotmail.co.uk

Michael Shephard (2002) married Jennifer Faught, from Suger Tree, Indiana, USA, on 22nd December 2014 in Nashville, Tennessee, USA. We met on holiday in New Orleans and are now living together in Eton with our newly acquired Yorkshire Terrier puppy, Successfully completed the Mars Management Development Graduate Training Programme in August 2014.

Olly Arnott (2003) I am currently part way through a two year training contract with White & Case LLP, six months of which was spent in Tokyo, and will qualify into the Private Equity department in March 2015. When not working I’m an Army Reserve Soldier with the Honourable Artillery Company.

Jamie Brown (2003) Have moved from London to Newquay – where I am soon to give in my city job and work for myself – doing something I already do: running an online retailer – bodymassageshop.com

Guy Chalk (2004) (right) at the Sovereign’s Parade at Sandhurst in April 2015, with his brother Ed (2002) Guy was pipped to the Sword of Honour by a tiny amount but won the War Studies prize. the old radleian 2015

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News & Notes Charles Hamilton (2006) Currently on 3rd year abroad in Chile and Portugal working for Ernst & Young.

Teddy Lodwick (2006) Still at UCL Medical School.

Ali Shawcross (2006) graduated Cambridge (reading History) with a 2.1 last year, and is now studying for an MSc in Middle East Politics at the School of Oriental and Asian Studies (SOAS).

Ben Boddington (2007) won the Real Tennis National Under 21 Doubles with Conor Medlow and was captain of the GB Under 25 Real Tennis Team which beat Australia in the summer.

Warwick University as from 2016, Wasps training grounds will be in Coventry. My goals for next season are simple: to stay in one piece, to represent my country at U20 level, and to represent Wasps and my loan club, Blackheath, to the best of my ability!

Robbie Wendin (2009) worked as a Gap Student at St Joseph’s College, Hunters Hill, Sydney from January to March and am looking to initiate an exchange programme for ORs on gap years to work there, and vice versa. Gained a conditional place at Yale University for the Class of 2019.

Thomas West (2009) was selected as a replacement for England U.20 v Italy in February.

Alexander Younger (2007) I am enjoying Leeds University. I play Rugby for the university and host on student radio.

Bertie Baker (2008) Currently in my 3rd year at Edinburgh University, studying German and French. Due to this, my 3rd year is a year out of Edinburgh. I am spending 6 months in Frankfurt working for a company called Jolo.de. If there are any ORs living and working in France or Germany do get in touch!

James Block (2008) Launched a new company: Year Out Club Ltd (yearoutclub. com) – a gap year accumulator site.

Users can search hundreds of courses and experiences from cookery to ski courses all around the world in one place.

Started in second year of University. Have won Set Squared Pitching Competition 2014 at Fund Invest Grow in London and the Ignite (Student Guild) pitching competition in 2015.

Theodor Adde (2009) In January 2015 I travelled to Argentina and climbed Mount Aconcagua, a 6962m high mountain at the top of the Andes.

Bertram Beor-Roberts (2009) First year studying at Oxford. Continuing to spend lots of time running my business filming weddings and photographing events in Cheltenham, Oxford & London.

William Stuart (2009) I have recently signed a three year contract in order to stay at Wasps so am committing my immediate future to professional sport.

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Jon Tarcy

Hugo Besley (2010) has just left Radley and started up a business: www.teenprez.co.uk It is an online store dedicated to helping your parents and near family find cool presents for teenagers. It’s filling an immense gap in the market!

They are launching in mid Septemeber, and are currently working on sourcing more presents.

Mrs Lynda Boswell (Lynda Laing) (Hon Member) On 23rd June 2015 at St Michael and All Angels Church, Claverdon, Mrs Lynda Laing, F Social Matron 1986 to 1998, married Mr Roderick Boswell.

News & Notes Jon Tarcy (2007) I have just graduated from the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama. Recently I have been performing in my final shows at Central and workshopping a new musical with Complicite at the National Theatre Studios.

I have written a piece called Life in Black with my co-writer, Gabriel Owen. It is a mockumentary sitcom set in a newly opened drama school (think The Thick of It but about young actors). We have raised funding and shot a Pilot to show to the industry in the hope of getting a commission. We were lucky enough to have some very well know actors in this Pilot including Liam Neeson, Jemma Redgrave, Tilly Blackwood and Ed Hughes – and we have had some excellent feedback on it from industry heads. We have managed to secure some big names to commit to the project if it was taken forward. I am keen to get in touch with any ORs in the industry – please go to www. jontarcy.co.uk We are now pitching it to major TV and production companies and have several screenings set up before the new year so it is all getting quite exciting.

From an email to Anthony Robinson in August: You will be pleased to hear that I have just landed two new roles – shooting for one has started already. I am a small part called Anton in a new Sky 1 series written by Stan Lee called Lucky Man; this is starring James Nesbitt and will be out November 2016. I am also playing the part of Rolf in The Sound of Music Live on ITV over the last weekend before Christmas (20th December). Everything is starting to go well and hopefully things will come off the back of this.

Shooting the pilot of ‘Life in Black’ with Charlie Rose (2007), the Director of Photography with the camera (above) and Tommy Siman (2007) on the floor (below)

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Tom Stockill

News & Notes

Archie Hewlett (2007) From The Sunday Times, April 2015

by Tom Stockill

Mini-Bransons turn their back on ivory towers Teenagers with good A-level grades are choosing start-ups over getting a degree. With better advice, more would follow.

A public school education gave Archie Hewlett excellent A-level grades, but little appetite for university. At just 18, he wanted to set up a business, not become an undergraduate.

“We had spent our whole time at school getting ready for university and I assumed that’s where the path had to go,” said Hewlett, who left Radley, near Oxford, with an A* and three As at A-level. He gave up a place to read psychology at Durham, and instead studied how to become his own boss.

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After time spent travelling and toying with ideas, Hewlett set up Duke & Dexter, which sells affordable but highquality slip-on shoes. He borrowed £9,000 from his parents, the equivalent of his first year’s university fees, and contacted manufacturers overseas.

His family provided more than financial support for the fledgling entrepreneur.

“In the early stages, I always went to the family for feedback on ideas or support with the more boring aspects of business, such as accounts and legal criteria,” said Hewlett, now 20.

Today, he has three staff at his base in Watlington, Oxfordshire, and he has repaid his parents in full.

The business, which has seen revenues grow 20% month-on-month since it started, has won a string of repeat clients, including Eddie Redmayne. He wore a pair of Duke & Dexter shoes in February when he collected the Oscar for best actor for his portrayal of Stephen Hawking in the film, The Theory of Everything.

Hewlett sells to 85 countries and has stockists at home and abroad. Materials come from Italy and Spain and his manufacturers are in Portugal.

Youth has not held him back. “We have had high-net-worth clients who looked surprised when I met them, but my age is not something I need to justify,” Hewlett said.

There has been an increase in support for young entrepreneurs, he added, but more should be done. “I would like to see more advice available to those who are 15 to 18 years old, who are still in school and are concerned as to whether they really must join the mad rush to get into university,” he said.

“Running a business is incredibly hard work and will take over most of your life, but if you love it that’s never going to be a real problem.”

High tuition fees and poor exam grades are often cited as reasons for youngsters going into business rather than higher education. For more and more of them,

News & Notes

“We have seen an increase in membership of those who are making a decision to not go to university, even though it is within their means,” said Emma Jones, founder of the small business network Enterprise Nation. “Young people are wired for enterprise. They want freedom and flexibility, are comfortable with technology, and are great self-promoters.”

Jones agreed that there should be more encouragement. “Careers advisers in schools are still pushing the university or employment route, mainly because they themselves don’t understand how much more accessible and achievable entrepreneurship now is thanks to technology,” she said.

It was the lack of support for ambitious school-leavers that led privately educated

Hattie Wrixon to her business idea. At 17, she ditched plans to study classics at Newcastle University. “I looked into the options and noticed there wasn’t much information about what was on offer,” said Wrixon.

She took matters into her own hands and set up Uni’s Not for Me, a website that provides support and advice for youngsters not interested in higher education. Her new Alternative Ambitions magazine, which also promotes apprenticeships and vocational qualifications, will initially be distributed by 150 secondary schools.

They will pay a subscription after a free trial.

Wrixon, 21, from Balham, south London, has one member of staff and plans to add more this year. She said girls and boys as young as 16 contacted the site. “We connect them with

entrepreneurs in our network. Most of the people I speak to are perfectly capable of going to university . . . society is still under the illusion that a degree is the be-all and end-all.”

Adam Bradford certainly had the brain power for university: at 17, he had the equivalent of 27 GCSEs and was set for impressive A-level grades. But he quit school and, after a stint with the Peter Jones Enterprise Academy, founded the consultancy Unite Computing in Sheffield.

“It was daunting because a lot of people don’t take you seriously . . . seeing an 18year-old in a suit is quite strange, but they had to take me seriously because there was no messing about on my part,” said Bradford, now 22, who works on social media campaigns.

“My only regret is that I didn’t go into business sooner.”

BigBlade Photography

however, it is an active choice rather than the second-best option.

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