Salem to Marlborough and Back Again Hans von Sponeck (SU 1957) says, unequivocally, that his short time as an exchange student at Marlborough are days he has remembered and recalled his whole life.
I
t was a day close to the end of the summer term of 1957 when I walked across the courtyard that a long time ago had been part of a Cistercian monastery. In the 1920s, it had become the boarding school Salem in southern Germany. One of my teachers saw me, stopped and said, ‘I was looking for you. The Headmaster wants to see you.’ I did not waste any time and went straight to his office. The Headmaster, Prince George of Hanover, looked at me with a smile that I could only interpret once he began to speak. ‘I have decided not to send you to Gordonstoun, but I have agreed with the Master of Marlborough that you could spend time at his college.’ All of this came as an enormous surprise.
Ten weeks later, equipped with a letter from Salem’s Headmaster to Marlborough’s Master Thomas Garnett (Master 1952-61), I travelled to London. It was the first air travel in my life and the first trip to a destination outside of continental Europe. I do not remember exactly how I reached Marlborough, except that I took a train from Paddington. I think I was too excited, too tired and also a bit confused. It did not take long to comprehend how the worlds of Marlborough and Salem differed. I had come from a co-educational to an all-boys school; from a school where shorts, skirts and pullovers were the school uniform for all seasons, to a school of jackets, ties and long trousers. I had not been aware
of the existence of shirts with detachable cuffs and collars, which were available from Marlborough’s local clothing store. Salem and Marlborough both had good sporting facilities, but only Marlborough had an outdoor pool. Skinny dipping was one of the many new English phrases I learnt; it also became a new habit. I chuckled with my new friends about the story that made its rounds about an old woman who had complained to the school about students swimming in the nude, but, when confronted, had to admit that she could only see these boys when using binoculars. Kippers, spuds and treacle tarts may not be culinary delights for today’s youth, but they were new to me coming from a German boarding school where food was scarce, and they were totally fine. Summerfield became my temporary home. Housemaster Frederick Coggin (CR 1926-62) was my mentor, and I will fondly remember him for several reasons.
Salem in southern Germany The Marlburian Club Magazine
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