Atrium, St Paul's Alumni Magazine,Autumn/Winter 2022

The Interview

ATRIUM

Terence Etherton – Friend of the People

Theo Hobson hosts four Folio editors

Pauline Relatives Peter and Chris Kraushar tell their story

Editorial

Paddy McCowen (1953-59) shared his memories of The Queen’s visit in Autumn 2020’s Atrium. “Four of us senior prefects were lined up, scrubbed clean, trousers pressed, waiting to be presented. We had practised our bows to perfection and knew the form of address was first ‘your Majesty’ and thereafter ‘Ma’am’ ”. One of those four prefects was John Beastall (1954-59). He gave the Latin peroration. John, after 60 years of service to the Pauline Community, died this summer and has an obituary on page 40.

Former High Master Stephen Baldock (1958-63) was my first form master at St Paul’s when I joined V Alpha in 1975. Stephen of course sat us alphabetically by surname. Andrew Melnyk (1975-80) would have been in the front row if the seating plan had been by academic ability. He is now Professor of Philosophy at the University of Missouri. He writes movingly about his Ukrainian heritage on pages 06-07.

Editing Atrium is a privilege. It has enabled me to reconnect with old friends like Andrew and make new ones. It would be invidious to pick out other individual contributors but that is not going to stop me.

Michael Simmons (1946-52) is approaching ninety and spent his working life as a solicitor. He could have been a professional writer. Robin Hirsch (1956-61) is a comic genius. When his articles, whether on the history of the coffee bean or dehydrating on CCF parade, drop into my inbox, I know I am in for half an hour of laughing out loud and that the magazine has a heartbeat.

I have also had the pleasure of working alongside Theo Hobson (1985-90), a professional journalist with The Spectator, on this edition of the magazine. I have

learnt so much from him. I am delighted that Theo has agreed to stay on as Deputy Editor for the Spring magazine. The search for our next editor continues.

The quality of the copy that is written by OPs is exceptional. I hardly have to do any editing and deadlines are not missed. The team at School especially Kate Wallace and Ginny Dawe-Woodings (until recently, School and Club Archivist) are wonderfully helpful and supportive of a magazine novice. My proof-readers (who have asked to remain anonymous) do an invaluable job, not least saving me from ridicule for my poor spelling, syntax and grammar.

My time as editor so far has happily and usefully coincided with the transformation of the Old Pauline Club and the Shaping our Future bursary campaign. These are helping to redefine the Pauline Community for the better. I am delighted that I have been asked to be the Club’s Deputy President taking over from Ed Vaizey (1981-85) as President next summer. He will be a hard act to follow. He and his predecessor, Brian Jones (1961-66) have been incredibly hard-working, effective and brave.

We are reminded in Folio – Boys’ Own (page 24) that in 1983, Jonathan Foreman (1979-83) as editor of Folio asked Bernard Levin to share his views on school magazines. The great columnist wrote that they “should aim to be as close to a ‘real’ magazine as possible, and to encourage good writing on a wide variety of subjects.” That was the challenge we set ourselves when I started out as editor. I hope that is what Atrium has become.

Jeremy Withers Green (1975-80) Correspondence to jeremy.withersgreen@gmail.com

Design: haime-butler.com

Print: Lavenham Press

Cover photo: St Paul’s School Archives – Her Majesty The Queen visits St Paul’s in 1959

Deciding on an image for Atrium’s cover takes up more editorial time than almost anything else. We quickly realised this time that a picture of Her Majesty The Queen when visiting the School in 1959 was the only route to take.

Michael Simmons (1946-52) read Classics and Law at Emmanuel College, Cambridge. He qualified as a solicitor and after two years as an officer in the RAF practised Law in the City and Central London for fifty years. Since retiring, he has pursued a new career as a writer. Michael is in touch with a sadly diminishing number of members of the Upper VIII of 1952.

Julian Manyon (1964-67) was for more than forty years a journalist specialising mainly in international affairs. Starting as a free-lance in Vietnam, he worked for the BBC in radio and television and then made a series of important current affairs programmes for Thames Television’s This Week and TV Eye. He was the only western journalist to film inside a Soviet nuclear missile base and was the reporter on the award-winning special, Death on the Rock. Julian went on to be a foreign correspondent for ITN in Moscow and the Middle East. He won numerous awards for his work including two BAFTAs and three Royal Television Society awards. He has written extensively for The Spectator. His second book Kidnapped by the Junta is included in Pauline Books on page 13.

Jon Blair (1967-69) was born in South Africa. He was drafted into the South African army in 1966 but chose instead to flee to England entering St Paul's in January 1967. He has worked across the creative world winning four of the premier awards in his field: an Oscar, an Emmy (twice), a Grammy and a Bafta. He was appointed CBE in 2015 for services to film. Jon has also been awarded an honorary doctorate by Stockton University in the USA for his contribution to human rights awareness through his film-making work.

Thurstan Bannister (1973-78) after studying PPE at Oxford University joined J.P. Morgan where he specialised in structuring and marketing derivatives. He has also worked at Sakonnet Technology, Atrevida Partners, Alphadyne Asset Management and is currently working in business development, investor communications, corporate planning and investment research at Whitney Peak Capital. Thurstan lives in New York.

Andrew Melnyk (1975-80) is the father of two boys and a grandfather of two girls. He has pursued an academic career since 1989. His first book, A Physicalist Manifesto, was published by Cambridge University Press in 2003, and he has nearly finished a second, The View from the Inside, which will appear with Oxford University Press. He enjoys hiking, music, and non-fiction.

Jonathan Foreman (1979-83) read History at Cambridge University, then Law at the University of Pennsylvania Law School. He has been a war correspondent, a film critic, and a leader writer, and has reported from Africa, the Middle East and South Asia. He is the author of two books, one on Foreign Aid and its challenges (Aiding and Abetting, Civitas 2015), and the other an anthology of American history (The Pocket Book of Patriotism, Sterling, 2005). He has written for many publications on both sides of the Atlantic and in Asia including The New Yorker, the Spectator, Vanity Fair, the Financial Times, The Sunday Times Magazine, the Daily and Sunday Telegraph, the Guardian, the Daily Mail, the Wall Street Journal, Newsweek, Tehelka and The Daily Beast. He is currently writing a book on Empires.

Theo Hobson (1985-90) studied English Literature at York, then Theology at Cambridge. He has written some books on religion, and many articles. He has worked as a teacher as well as a writer and journalist. He recently went to art college, so he is now a struggling artist as well as a struggling writer.

Simon Mulligan (1986-91) is a concert pianist, living with his wife and son in New York. While at school, he describes as sheer coincidence the fact that his afternoon piano lessons at London's Royal Academy of Music took place when he could have been on cross-country runs with his Pauline peers. His career to date has included collaborations worldwide with Yehudi Menuhin, Michael Kamen, Joshua Bell, Sting, Liza Minnelli, with performances at the Grammy Awards, for Her Majesty The Queen, for President Barack Obama, and over thirty compact disc recordings, most recently for the Steinway label.

Alex Frith (1991-1996) is a children’s non-fiction author and editor working on staff for Usborne Publishing. His many books include Politics for Beginners, which was shortlisted as Children’s Illustrated & Non-Fiction Book of the Year at the British Book Awards: See inside Inventions and 100 Things to Know About Space: both shortlisted for the Royal Society Young People’s Prize; and he has high hopes for his latest Usborne book, Big Questions about the Universe, which publishes in September 2022.

Lorie Church (1992-97) when he is away from the workplace, Lorie encourages people to put letters in little squares. He has had puzzles published in various titles internationally. As well as contributing to the Listener series, Mind Sports Olympiad and Times Daily, he sets Atrium’s crossword.

Dear Jeremy,

I read Paul Cartledge’s explanation in Atrium of Adam Peaty’s tattoos with interest and thought I would share an image of Sergeant Sayers who instructed the School Gymnastics Team in the early 20th century. He is always referred to as Sergeant Sayers and I still have not been able to find out his first name. The only reference to him, other than as the gymnastics instructor, is that during the First World War he was with the 10th Middlesex Regiment, at Sittingbourne, as a drill instructor.

On his arms he has tattoos of a woman standing in front of a fence, a man wearing what looks like a cowboy hat and neckerchief and some text that starts with “I LOVE…”

With very best wishes, Ginny Dawe-Woodings (Former OPC Archivist)

Monty's eyes and ears in North West Europe were liaison officers who travelled by jeep across the front and reported back to his caravan in the evening. The young Captain Howarth – later High Master of St Paul's (1962-73) – was one of these officers.

As a result of a family connection with Brian Jones (1961-66), I have given, in Tom Howarth’s memory, to the Kayton Library signed copies of Monty's “Eighth Army: El Alamein to the River Sangro” and “Twenty First Army Group: Normandy to the Baltic.”

These were presented at the end of the war in Berlin, to his catering chief Sgt CQMS Castle who may well have supervised the modest alcohol-free evening repasts at the caravan. The donation included Sgt Castle’s war medals and his copy of the programme for presentation of the Freedom of Chiswick to the Field Marshal. This ceremony took place on Saturday July 28th, 1945.

I was very fortunate to be taught by Tom Howarth in his time as Second Master at Winchester. These books, signed by Monty, were “presented in memory of Tom Howarth –gripping teacher of French History from the Jacobins to the return of De Gaulle in 1958: 169 years with 11 changes of regime and 5 invasions. Remembered for his cool wit and pastoral care.”

It was a pleasure to be able to meet the School Librarian, Hilary Cummings, and the Archivist, Ginny Dawe-Woodings, in the Montgomery Room at St Paul’s and see other Monty memorabilia in the School’s archives.

Nick Bosanquet, (Winchester College 1954-59)

Letters a Field Marshal and his Catering Sergeant Dear Jeremy,

1911 Gymnastics Team

Pauline tattoos

unbeatable record Dear Jeremy, I so enjoyed Tim Razzall’s description of Stuart Feldman’s bowling in the latest Atrium

I thought I would add some meat to the bone. Stuart first played for the Old Pauline Cricket Club in 1934 as a schoolboy. In 1935 he topped the School’s bowling averages and was reported as “the biggest thorn in the flesh of opposing batsmen, one wishes all school bowlers would study batsmen’s weaknesses in the same way.”

After 1948, he started playing again for the OPCC bagging 19 wickets at 13 runs a wicket including 6-34 against the School followed by 7-36 in the same fixture in 1949. In 1956 he took 136 wickets for OPCC at an average of 7.9 followed by 70 at 12 in 1957 and his remarkable performances carried through until 1968 when he hung up his boots with an amazing and probably unbeatable record of: 290 matches, 4,023 overs, 675 maidens, 12,292 runs, wickets 1,035, balls/wicket 23.3, average 11.9.

With very best wishes, Ray Burton (1952-58)

a gallant enemy

Dear Jeremy,

Apropos the piece in Atrium ‘Pauline Penny-Farthing’, I have found a mention in The Pauline No 234 of November 1917 of ‘A German Pauline’ which quoted from the Canadian Gazette

Pauline Notes: A German Pauline: “All Germans are not Huns. Note the story of a British Columbian sergeant which we publish this week. After recent Lens fighting there was an armistice between the enemy and ourselves upon part of the Canadian line for the burial of the dead, and the men of one Canadian battalion at least declare that the Germans ‘behaved like perfect gentlemen throughout’. The German officer in charge had, it seems been educated at St Paul's School, London – that accounts for much. We should like to know the name of the gallant enemy, but it is better for him to remain unknown. The story emphasises the criminality of those in high places who do their best to make such incidents impossible”.

I believe the officer is Charles Ernst von Koppelow (1887-92), the champion cyclist. After leaving St Paul's von Koppelow went to Germany but kept in touch with his alma mater as his Engagement Announcement appeared in the Pauline May 1906. It shows that he was by then a Lieutenant in Grand Duke of Mecklenburg 89th Grenadier Regiment.

von KOPPELOW – Meine Verlobung mit Fraulein Helene von Blucher, Tochter des Herrn Gch. Ministerialrats von Blucher und seiner Frau Gemahlin, geb. von Langen zeige ich hierdurch ergebenst an. Schwerin, den 9 Februar, 1906. von Koppelow, Oberleutnant im Grossherzgl. Meckelenburgiscgischen Grenadier Regiment Nr 89. Best regards, John Dunkin (1964-69)

Dear Jeremy,

his master’s voice

I read the profile of Joel Sandelson in Atrium with great interest.

I should explain that I’m currently a Governor of the School and I was the Master of Clare College, Cambridge between 2014 and 2021 where, by good chance, Joel was an undergraduate music student.

When I was inducted as the new Master in the Clare Chapel, Joel played the Max Bruch composition of Kol Nidrei on his cello. Some of your readers will be familiar with this dramatic and moving piece which marks the commencement of the Day of Atonement service in the Jewish religion. For me this was a most memorable event and performance.

I should add a fact that is not recorded in your profile: Joel achieved a starred first 3 years running when at Clare – a remarkable and very impressive achievement. He will go far.

Yours etc., Tony Grabiner

other people’s discrepancies Dear Jeremy,

In David Herman's (1973-75) fascinating article

Refugees at St Paul’s I was interested to see Sefton Delmer (1917-23) described as a “famous journalist”. Readers of Nicholas Rankin’s Churchill’s Wizards will know that Delmer played a substantial role in WW2 deception campaigns, being largely responsible for the “black radio” transmissions to Germany and for input into other ploys. Rankin suggests that the experience of continual deception left its mark on Delmer.

In a related field, Leo Marks (1934-37) writes in a footnote to Between Silk and Cyanide – his enthralling inside story of the Special Operations Executive – that “Old Paulines (of whom General Montgomery was one) could usually be relied upon to point out other people’s discrepancies”. Perhaps some things don't change...

Best wishes, Owen Toller (Mathematics Department 1977–88 and 2006-19)

Joel Sandelson

carry a large stick in Greece Dear Jeremy,

My interest was piqued by John Adair’s (1947-52) letter.

I am sure that he is correct that each of the members of the Upper History 8th have similar but differing memories of Philip Whitting (History Department 1929-63). I think that he was able to control our class by treating us more like university students than schoolboys.

We should not forget that he had extensive interests outside the school being a strong pillar of the local history association to which we were periodically invited and a numismatist with a wide reputation – his collection included some unique Byzantine gold coins which I believe he gave to Birmingham University.

As for the mythology, I had heard that when an incendiary bomb rolled into a shop, he picked it up and took it to some open ground where presumably it exploded harmlessly. Next, I had understood that he was a bomber navigator not a pilot and this enabled him to plot routes which took him over various historic sites which he had wanted to see from the air. So, John may well be right.

My own recollections include his advice given during his illustrated lectures on Byzantine art always to carry a large stick when walking in Greece to protect oneself against the fiercesome shepherd dogs and to sit on the ground when approached by such a dog; both pieces of advice I used and found worked when I was walking in the Peloponnese and Joanina/Metsovon areas.

Kind regards, Michael Offer (1956-61)

changing the guard Dear Jeremy,

I am prompted by Kenneth Baker’s reminiscences (Atrium Spring/Summer 2022) and the splendid photograph, to recall my own experience of the School Cadet Force.

When the School returned to Hammersmith in late 1945, the JTC as it was, then became very active, with access to facilities not available at Easthampstead. One important support we lacked was experienced drill personnel. This was soon remedied with the arrival of serving NCOs from the Brigade of Guards at Wellington Barracks. They were Welsh Guards.

We paraded on the tarmac behind the School building, beneath the Board Room window, which the High Master may well have opened in fine weather. Regrettably, while giving us full and comprehensive training the Welsh guardsman used a variety of the most obscene adjectives. Presumably someone in authority contacted the Barracks and after one more visit the Welsh Guards were replaced by the Scots Guards.

They came, together with a piper which was great, but unfortunately, they proved to be incomprehensible. Imagine a tall sergeant, his face about an inch from yours and he shouts all in mouthful “wassthamottaronthahaatbaarge”, in a rich Glaswegian accent. What he was actually saying was “What is the motto on your cap badge?” The cadets were unanimous in this case and again there was a change in instructors.

Third time lucky we were favoured with the Coldstream Guards. I can safely say that there was joy and appreciation all round. I believe we were eventually formally attached to the Coldstreamers for training purposes.

Stand at Ease and best wishes, Jeffery Shaw (1944-48)

St Paul’s School Shooting Club Dear Jeremy,

At the Earliest Vintage Lunch held in March there was a handout celebrating 150 years of alumni engagement with the School, and it contained a couple of dates which were significant to me as they relate to the only activity that I was any good at during my time at St Paul’s.

The first is the unveiling of the South African War Memorial in 1906 by Lord Roberts and the second was the formation of the School Shooting Club in 1907. Lord Roberts was so appalled by the standard of marksmanship in the British forces when compared to the South Africans during the South African War. He took it upon himself to promote the formation of miniature (.22) rifle clubs around the country as an attempt to improve marksmanship standards, and such clubs could be found in most municipalities, schools and large companies. I believe there may still be a London Transport shooting range in Baker Street Station.

The St Paul’s School Shooting Club was an adjunct of the CCF and I did well enough while shooting the Empire Test in the school range in the West Kensington building to be invited to join. I then represented the School in the Ashburton Shield at Bisley in 1956. For me, very enjoyable times. I carried on shooting after I left school and have since represented my local club, my county and my country in various shooting disciplines.

Sincerely Lindsay Jamieson (1953-56)

Andrew Melnyk (1975-80) writes from Columbia, Missouri

When the Russian army rolled into Ukraine on February 24th, 2022, I wasn’t only angry at Putin’s Russia, and fearful for the future; I was also full of admiration for the extraordinary courage and defiant spirit of the Ukrainians. Though President Zelensky looked to be just days away from death, he stayed put; women and hipsters were learning to shoot; the defenders of Snake Island were faced with destruction but didn’t flinch. So, I was full of admiration, as I say, but that wasn’t all: I also felt intensely proud.

One cannot be morally responsible for actions that one didn’t do, and to be proud is to be proud of something that one was morally responsible for doing. Pride in other people’s actions, in which one played no part, therefore seems irrational. Likewise, of course, for feeling ashamed of others’ sins. But pride and shame are all but inevitable given the right sort of connection to the actors. My father was Ukrainian, and grew up in eastern Poland, in a tiny village close to Przemysl, now a modest town on the border with Ukraine that was mentioned in early news reports of Ukrainian refugees fleeing to Poland. Toward the end of the Second World War, while still a teenager, he fled his homeland, together with an aunt and uncle, as the front line of war and Soviet communist rule relentlessly approached from the east. After the war, he lived in camps for ‘Displaced Persons’ in Bavaria and made money by clearing the rubble left by Allied bombing. These camps gave birth to elaborate educational institutions, and it was there that he completed his secondary education and began studying pharmacy. But the money ran out, and so in 1948 or 1949 he emigrated to England, probably under the European Voluntary Workers scheme. His two older brothers had similar stories. One emigrated to Sweden, and the other, after two years as a political prisoner in Sachsenhausen concentration camp, moved to Belgium and then the United States.

My father died in 1977 when I was fifteen. He looked foreign (to Britons of the time) and spoke English with a heavy accent, but he assimilated to the British way of life as much as he could, eventually taking UK citizenship. He made no effort to teach me Ukrainian, and never spoke to me of the

old country or his past; I assume he wished to forget it. But my mother was English, and I was brought up in southwest London, so inevitably I grew up feeling British, and have often, indeed, been regarded as something of a textbook Englishman. I have never learned Ukrainian. It came as a bit of a shock to discover that I felt Ukrainian.

I learned of my father’s death over the phone in a farmhouse while on a St Paul’s School Mountaineering Club trip in North Wales. Before I took the train home, the masters leading the trip showed me immense kindness. Patience, too, as I talked and talked and talked. Their care impressed me deeply, and my gratitude is undimmed 45 years later. (Alas, I can now remember only the name of Philip Rodgers). My father’s death also had obvious financial implications, but, thanks to the generosity of donors unknown to me, I was able to return to St Paul’s the next term to take my O-levels.

I learned of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in a hotel room in Chicago, while attending a meeting of the American Philosophical Association. I had organised some of the sessions, so I had duties to perform. But I found it hard to concentrate on them, and indeed to sleep. Putin was already rattling his nuclear sabre, there was Russia’s history of mass murder in Ukraine to consider, and the people in the photos I was seeing online looked like my relatives.

I was brought up in southwest London, so inevitably I grew up feeling British, and have often, indeed, been regarded as something of a textbook Englishman. I have never learned Ukrainian. It came as a bit of a shock to discover that I felt Ukrainian.

I am an academic philosopher by profession. As commonly happens with less wholesome obsessions, I discovered philosophy as a teenager, and St Paul’s played a key role. The first philosophy book I ever read—Karl Popper’s The Open Society and Its Enemies—I had borrowed from a bookshelf in the chaplain’s classroom. I’m sure the book contained much that I didn’t understand, but it changed my life all the same: I found out that philosophy was what my mind was for. I’m grateful (though, in retrospect, surprised) not only that the book was on that shelf but that a master didn’t hesitate to lend it to me—I was later to learn from bitter experience that students who borrow books from their teachers often don’t get around to returning them.

immigrant too, like my father before me. (I also speak English with a heavy—British—accent!) But I have had an easier time of it than my father did. No one thinks I look foreign, no one is fazed by the spelling of my name, and, even in late middle age, I am still complimented on my accent (which is perhaps why, as one friend put it, I continue to sound as if I got off the boat yesterday).

The story of my immigration is also very different from that of my father’s. He emigrated and then fell in love (with my mother). For me, it was the other way around. I fell in love (with my future wife when we were graduate students at Oxford) and then emigrated to the land of her birth. But while that explains why I live in Columbia rather than Britain; it doesn’t explain why I live in Columbia rather than somewhere in the US that is – how should I put it? – better known. The answer is that the academic job market is national, indeed international, and tight, and you go where you get a good offer: of my ten philosophical colleagues at the University of Missouri two are Canadian, two are Romanian, and one is Irish. But I have never tried seriously to move. My department has been a great one in which to work, and Columbia a great town in which to raise a family.

And then in the UVIII we read the first book of Plato’s Republic. Or at least we started to read it. I wanted to scrutinise every thought so minutely that I tried the patience of my excellent classmates, Tim Burke (1975-80) (who died tragically young) and Anthony Woolich (197580). Our teacher, the future High Master, Stephen Baldock, then a mere master without the honorific of capitalisation, diplomatically moved us into a higher gear by suggesting that I would be able to pursue the sort of discussion I was interested in at university. And so, I did, at Corpus Christi College, Oxford, where I read Classical Mods and Greats, followed by two graduate degrees in philosophy.

To attend February’s academic conference in Chicago I did not fly from Britain. I drove from Columbia, Missouri, home of the University of Missouri and archetypal American college town (population: 125,000), where I am in my 32nd year as a professor of philosophy. For I am an

In 2017 I lost my dear wife to pancreatic cancer, the second tragedy in a life otherwise blessed in so many ways. Because our sons are grown up, it occurred to me that I was at liberty to return to Britain. But I won’t. I still feel British, and Britain is a wonderful place to visit. But I have grown to love the youthful energy, brashness, and, for the most part, classlessness of America – not to mention its extraordinary natural beauty and under-appreciated cultural diversity.

But I speak only for myself, not for my sons. They are still near the beginnings of their adult lives, and international migration is now easier than ever. Who knows where they will end up? Their father, and his father before him, while not yet out of their twenties, were still a very long way

I am an academic philosopher by profession. As commonly happens with less wholesome obsessions, I discovered philosophy as a teenager, and St Paul’s played a key role.

The story of my immigration is also very different from that of my father’s. He emigrated and then fell in love (with my mother). For me, it was the other way around.

Briefings

“Fizz not Biz”

David Herman (1973-75) remembers Peter Thomson (History Department 1961-84, Surmaster 1976-84)

I first met Peter Thomson in 1973. I had just arrived at St Paul’s. I knew no one and found sanctuary in the History Library. There were three things he found ridiculous about me: 1) I was not a Medievalist. 2) I had never played rugby. 3) I knew no Latin. After he discovered that, every time he passed me in the corridor, Peter would come out with some Latin tag about health and fitness. I would smile inanely but typically I missed the joke. What I realised, years later, was that he knew why I was spending so much time in the History Library and made time to come and chat regularly.

These conversations were fascinating. Peter talked to me of the great historians. He described a Miltonic world of hierarchies and angels, archangels and sub-angels. Near the top were the great medieval historians of his day, each name accompanied by much rubbing of hands and intakes of breath with an increase of volume when he got to the name denoting tremendous approval: ‘the great [Walter] Ullmann’, ‘the eminent [Karl] Leyser’, ‘R [pause] W [great emphasis on the W] Southern.’

Then there were the curators from the great museums, either Old Paulines or fathers of brilliant sons at the school: JB Trapp at the Warburg, Ayers and Kaufmann at the V&A.

Then, only a little below the great historians and curators, came Old Paulines who now taught history at Oxbridge (with great emphasis on the title): Dr [now Professor] Abulafia, Dr Patrick Zutshi, and so on...

Finally, there were the great High Masters, especially TEB Howarth. Howarth had not only written books on 19th century French history, but he had made history, working at Monty’s side during the war, but – ultimate accolade – he could walk into any classroom in the school and teach the class: ‘Latin, Greek, History, of course, English Literature and French.’

But besides this Miltonic world was a more Dickensian world – equally cherished – of great characters. Peter always had time for larger-thanlife pupils. He once observed Lloyd Dorfman writing his Latin translation paper for Oxbridge entrance. ‘How did it go, Lloyd?’ he asked. ‘Well, Mr Thomson,’ Dorfman replied, ‘Unless Father buys me a college, I don’t think it’s going to happen.’ Gales of laughter. No one was more delighted than PFT by Sir Lloyd Dorfman’s success in later years.

Or Lord Alexander Rufus-Isaacs who applied to study History at Oriel. His mother, the Marchioness of Reading, was concerned he might not get in.

Perhaps if there was a problem, she should go to see the Admissions Tutor at the college? ‘Madam,’ Peter said, ‘the gates of Oriel will be closed for Christmas.’ ‘Mr. Thomson,’ the redoubtable Marchioness told him, ‘The gates of Oriel will open for me.’

The greatest character of all was still to come. In later years, at the Harrodian, Peter had dealings with a parent (and grandparent), ‘Sir [pause] (voice assumes very reverential tones) Mick’. Over numerous lunches he never said Mick Jagger. Always ‘Sir Mick’.

Peter talked to me of the great historians. He described a Miltonic world of hierarchies and angels, archangels and sub-angels.

Peter was passionate about art, from Byzantium and medieval architecture to Van Gogh. In later years, we would regularly go to exhibitions at The Royal Academy together. He also read deeply and widely. On his sickbed he read Michael Frayn and Simon Raven (‘clever but nasty’). Apparently, Hemingway got him reading at 14 (‘very much an active man for active boys’) but it was English writers who mattered most.

I knew he was a great teacher even though he never taught me. I knew because of his values: his passion for scholarship, his decency, generosity, loyalty. The night before my Cambridge Entrance exams, Peter phoned. There was the familiar voice. ‘Fizz not Biz,’ he boomed. That was all.

I knew he was a great teacher even though he never taught me. I knew because of his values: his passion for scholarship, his decency, generosity, loyalty.

A good teacher transmits skills and knowledge. A great teacher like Peter does two more things. First, he or she embodies a world of learning. They bring to life a sense that there are these great figures out there, a canon stretching back years, which boys can aspire to be part of, can contribute to. Great books, great scholarship, a tremendous world of learning.

Second, great teachers understand that a teacher, a department, a History Library, can offer a home for boys in need of one, a safe place from which to explore history, literature, culture. There was tremendous solidity about Peter, something grand that I sensed when I first met him almost fifty years ago. But there was also a sense that he knew something of damage and could speak to that with great generosity and compassion.

Two final images. Over the last months we started to exchange books. I sent him Tony Judt’s book of essays about history. He sent me Michael Frayn’s memoir of his father. Only after Peter died, did I realise something about this exchange. Both books include wonderful chapters about great teachers from their schooldays but Frayn’s book is also about what makes a good man.

On a trip to the RA, Peter told me how he had been to Merton to see one of his best former students, who was

now writing about Merton Chapel’s stained glass. Peter told me how brilliantly this student had spoken and he described this with such pride, with such great happiness, hands still, voice measured. His eyes shone. He and I both knew that the road to this learning had not always been easy for this pupil, now an outstanding scholar, and that Peter’s pride was not just about respect for this former pupil’s learning but for how he had overcome those problems and achieved so much. This humanity is what made Peter such a great teacher.

If there is one thing I could tell a group of Paulines now, it would be this: If you are lucky enough to meet such a teacher, don’t be stupid enough to lose touch. After the last school exam is over, the real learning begins, hopefully, for many years. That is the most important history lesson Peter taught me.  David Herman spoke at Peter Thomson’s memorial service on 11 June 2011

Pauline Vodka

After the last school exam is over, the real learning begins, hopefully, for many years. That is the most important history lesson Peter taught me.

Dima Deinega (2002-07) has launched a Ukrainian vodka brand, Dima’s with the hope of showcasing Ukraine and its vibrant culture as well as shining a spotlight on Ukrainian vodka production.

There is also some history to his interest in the Ukrainian spirit: his father owns the oldest pub in Ukraine – O’Briens, an Irish pub in Kyiv – and so, he says, vodka was never far away at home. Since the war in Ukraine began, the company has driven a concerted effort into fundraising as much as possible for Ukraine. This has been made possible through the sales of a range of bottled cocktails, £5 from every vodka bottle sale going to Ukraine, and fundraising events and auctions. The charities which Dima’s has supported include: First Aid Kits for Ukraine and Donate to support Ukraine as well as the #CookforUkraine initiative

Dima hopes to demonstrate to consumers the idea that vodka can be sippable, flavourful and incredibly smooth, as well as adding a flavour profile to cocktails. He wants to distance good quality vodka from the preconception of a bland, neutral white spirit. He suggests serving Dima’s vodka alongside pickles when drinking the spirit straight. Not only, he says, is this how vodka is always served in Ukraine, but it also provides a delicious acidic taste and texture.

Dima’s has gained international recognition, having won a gold award in the International Wine and Spirits Competition (IWSC), as well as Gold in the World Vodka Awards. Those attending the 150th Anniversary Dinner at The Tabernacle in June were able to sample the award-winning flavour of Dima’s

Pauline Philanthropy

Thomas Gresham, the Pauline and Mercer who keeps on giving

Founded in 2017 by four of our Upper Eighth pupils, the Thomas Gresham Award is a wholly pupil-led appeal, fundraising to provide a 100% bursary for the highest performing boy at 11+ who needs financial support.

speakers who deliver lectures on topics outside its usual range, and it also hosts seminars and conferences. There are over 140 lectures a year, all of which are free and open to the public.

In 2017/2018 the founding committee of Upper Eighth Paulines exceeded all expectations by raising enough funds to cover almost two years’ education for an incoming St Paul’s Juniors pupil and subsequent teams have continued their legacy.

Last year’s 2020-21 committee faced the challenges of fundraising in a virtual world. Still their sense of adventure and creativity led to a successful virtual quiz night, a readathon in the Junior School and running the on-site activities for Giving Day, finishing the year in style with the first Thomas Gresham Appeal Mufti Day. The committee raised approaching £38,000 which brings the donations to the Thomas Gresham Bursary Award to nearly £150,000. Two Bursary Award recipients are now attending School. 

The award is named after Sir Thomas Gresham (1531-37) who funded and founded the London Royal Exchange and was a financier to King Edward VI, Queen Mary I and Queen Elizabeth I. His father and uncle, both also Mercers were Lord Mayors of London. Thomas endowed Gresham College at which he stipulated that seven professors should read lectures, one each day of the week, in astronomy, geometry, physic, law, divinity, rhetoric and music. It was London’s first institution of higher learning opening in 1597. The College remained in Gresham's mansion on Bishopsgate until 1768. Since 1991, the College has operated at Barnard’s Inn Hall in Holborn. The College regularly welcomes visiting

Donations to the Thomas Gresham Bursary Award have almost reached £150,000.

Pauline Politics

From Steerpike in The Spectator on 21 July and republished with permission

The One Nation brigade were out in force last night and Tom Tugendhat (1986-91) was the talk of the town…. It was another Tory politician who stole the show at Tugendhat's event, delivering a witty, self-deprecating speech that made some (well-received) barbs at the Tonbridge MP's expense.

Lord Vaizey (1981-85), the former culture minister and diehard Cameroon, enjoyed ribbing his fellow Old Pauline at the Tories in Comms event, telling the assembled crowd:

“What Tom didn’t say is we went to the same school. We went to a school called St Paul’s and I’m now actually head of the St Paul’s alumni association and I’m on the governing body of the school. The great thing about Tom is that every time I ask Tom to come back to the school and do something for us, help us raise money for bursaries, Tom always says no. That’s really how our relationship works, and I was obviously amazed that Tom made it onto the ballot to be the leader of the Conservative party and Prime Minister but obviously, since we have this school connection, I immediately endorsed Rishi Sunak”.

Cue laughter all around. Still, Vaizey did have the good grace to poke fun at himself at the event, regaling the audience with the tale of his dismissal in 2016. As a loyal ally of David Cameron and signed-up member of the Notting Hill set, the Old Pauline was one of the first to be dismissed after Theresa May moved into No. 10:

“I was actually the longest serving minister in the Cameron government because Theresa May, for some reason, decided to fire George Osborne (1984-89) and others before she got round to firing me. And I was responsible for culture, I was responsible for film, video games, television and creative industries. I was also responsible for broadband rollout, mobile phone coverage, the rollout of 4G. And I don’t know if you have ever been fired by a Prime Minister – looking around the room, probably quite a few of you have. Tom is yet to be fired by a Prime Minister because he’s never had a government job. I remember it vividly because I was in my constituency, and I got a call on my mobile phone. I was driving at the time and in between stroking the dog, steering with my knees, holding the phone to my ear, they said this is 10 Downing Street, the Prime Minister is going to call you in 15 minutes. And I

knew what was coming – although the world of hope does triumph over experience and I thought “Maybe she’s going to make me Chancellor of the Exchequer”. As I drove off, I realised that I had lost my mobile phone signal, so it took the Prime Minister an additional 15 minutes to get through to me to eventually fire me and I reflected that thanks to me doing my job so badly in terms of rural mobile broadband coverage, I served an extra 15 minutes as the longest serving telecoms minister”. 

Tom Tugendhat

More Pauline Politics

Pauline Angels

The news that Geoffrey Samuel (1944-49) is now the only Conservative Councillor on Richmond upon Thames Council has prompted Serge Lourie (1959-64) to contact Atrium about three OPs who were part of the Liberal Democrat administration on the Council between 1983 and 2010.

David Cornwell (1954-58) was a councillor for Barnes and East Twickenham for all but two years between 1976 and 2002. He was the Mayor in 1986/87 and then chaired major committees: Social Services from 1987 to 1994; Education from 1994 to 1999; and then Scrutiny from 1999 to 2002. He also held a number of important external positions most notably chairing the board of Richmond Theatre.

Tim Razzall (1957-62), who was Captain of cricket and Captain of School, was a Mortlake Councillor from 1974 to 1998, Deputy Leader of Council and Chair of Policy and resources from 1983 until succeeded by Serge Lourie in 1997/8. He became a peer in 1997 and was very involved in national politics as the Treasurer of the Liberal Democrats.

Serge Lourie (1959-64) served as a councillor for Kew from 1982 to 2010 initially as a Social Democrat. From 1983 to 1986, he was Deputy Chair to Tim on the Policy and Resources Committee, and the Chair of Scrutiny. He then had a variety of roles before succeeding Tim in 1997/8 as Deputy Leader and becoming Leader of the Council (2001-02); Leader of the Opposition (2002-06); and then Council Leader again (2006-10). Before this he was a Labour member of Westminster City Council (1971-74) and the Greater London Council (1973-77), where he was Vice Chair of Finance. In that capacity, he signed off the purchase of the old school site in West Kensington when it was acquired by the GLC and Inner London Education Authority.

Serge has now retired but fills his time by organising walks for older people and running three or four times a week including a marathon every decade. 

Tom Adeyoola (1990-95) has set up Capital Angel Network. CAN is an angel investor network made-up of alumni from St Paul’s Girls’ School, St Paul’s School, Hammersmith Academy and other local state schools.

CAN will offer founders, alumni or not, access to a network of engaged investors, who are open to providing seed, early-stage or growth capital. These angels will in turn, pledge to donate up to 20% of related proceeds to support the founding mission of the schools that educated them creating bursaries and opportunities for children no matter their background.

The overriding goal of CAN is to build a virtuous flow of new capital between alumni, businesses and schools to fuel growth and expand access.

Any business, new or existing, will be welcome to pitch CAN members, so long as they can commit to clear diversity, ethics, inclusion, and sustainability criteria.

you would like to contact Tom regarding the CAN, please email him via AdeyoolaT@stpaulsschool.org.uk

Tom Adeyoola

 Serge Lourie

Pauline Books

Julian Manyon (1964-67) Kidnapped by the Junta

TV journalist Julian Manyon digs down into Argentina's 'Dirty War' and its effect on the Falklands conflict.

On May 12th, 1982, after the first bloody exchanges of the Falklands War, journalist Julian Manyon and his TV crew were kidnapped on the streets of Buenos Aires and put through a traumatic mock execution by the secret police. Less than eight hours later they were invited to the Presidential Palace to film a worldexclusive interview with an apologetic President Galtieri, the dictator and head of the Argentine Junta.

Spurred on by the recent release of declassified CIA documents about Argentina's 'Dirty War', Manyon discovered that his kidnapper was a key figure in the Junta's bloody struggle against left-wing opposition, with a terrifying record of torture and murder. Also in the secret documents were details of the wider picture – the turmoil inside the Junta as the war with Britain got under way, and how Argentina succeeded in acquiring vital US military equipment which made its war effort possible.

Published on the 40th anniversary of the Falklands conflict, this book is an extraordinary insight into the war behind the war. Manyon provides a harrowing depiction of the campaign of terror that the Junta waged on its own population, and a new perspective on an episode of history more often centred on Mrs Thatcher, the Belgrano and the battle of Goose Green.

Gideon Rachman (1976-80)

The Age of The Strongman: How the Cult of the Leader Threatens Democracy around the World

Gideon Rachman is the Chief Foreign Affairs columnist for the Financial Times.

Since the beginning of the millennium, when Vladimir Putin took power in Russia, authoritarian leaders have come to dominate global politics. Self-styled strongmen have risen to power in Moscow, Beijing, Delhi, Brasilia, Budapest, Ankara, Riyadh and Washington. Everywhere they go, from Putin, Trump and Bolsonaro to Erdogan, Xi and Modi, these leaders encourage a cult of personality. They are nationalists and social conservatives, with little tolerance for minorities, dissent or the interests of foreigners. At home, they claim to stand up for ordinary people against globalist elites; abroad, they posture as the embodiments of their nations. And they are not just operating in authoritarian political systems but have begun to emerge in the heartlands of liberal democracy.

The Age of The Strongmen has been critically acclaimed.

“Timely, laser-sharp and unsettling. In telling us about strongmen who dominate politics around the world, Gideon Rachman paints a picture that is at turns illuminating and terrifying.

A must read”.

Peter Frankopan, author of The New Silk Roads

“Solidly constructed, engaging and factually sound. The Age of The Strongman is a penetrating distillation of the essential ingredients of the strongman that effectively demonstrates a worrying commonality between wildly different personalities and circumstances”

Alex Younger in the Financial Times

Pauline

Alex Frith (1991-96) Two Heads

This graphic novel is about how the brain works. Most of the science in the book is based on decades of research by Alex’s parents, professors Uta and Chris Frith. Alex wrote the book based on various lectures and conversations with them. In Two Heads, their distinguished careers serve as a prism through which they share the compelling story of the birth of neuroscience and their paradigm-shifting discoveries across areas as wide-ranging as autism and schizophrenia research, and new frontiers of social cognition including diversity, prejudice, confidence, collaboration and empathy.

Neuroscientific research is now focused on the fact we are a social species, whose brains have evolved to work cooperatively. What happens when people gather in groups? How do people behave when they are in pairs – either pitted against each other or working together? Is it better to surround yourself with people who are similar to yourself, or different? And are two heads really better than one?

It was illustrated by Daniel Locke, an artist based in Brighton.

Two Heads was selected by the Guardian as April 2022’s Graphic Novel of the Month.

It is described as: “Charming and addictively accessible” by Steven Pinker and “Original, authoritative and beautiful” by Brian Cox.

Jonathan Sandler (1992-97)

The English GI

Jonathan Sandler has produced a graphic novel of his grandfather’s WWII adventure.

In September 1939, Britain declares war on Germany. Bernard Sandler, a 17-year-old schoolboy from Yorkshire, is on a school trip to the United States and consequently finds himself unable to return home, separated from his close-knit Jewish family in Britain.

Stranded in cosmopolitan New York for an unknown duration, he must grow up quickly. He discovers the pleasures and excitement of Broadway theatre and jazz while developing his own social circle at New York University. But just as he finds his independence, the United States declares war in December 1941, which changes his life once again. Bernard is drafted into the United States Army, joining the 26th Infantry “Yankee” Division. Eventually, he returns to Europe, serving on the front lines alongside General Patton’s Third Army during the brutal Lorraine Campaign in Northern France in the fall of 1944.

The English GI also follows the remarkable story of Bernard's family in England, and the fate of his wider family in Latvia.

Matthew Stadlen (1993-98)

How to See Birds: An Enthusiast's Guide

Matthew is a journalist, author, presenter and photographer.

When we see a bird, do we actually notice it? Many of us don't. But in Britain, there are more than a million members of the RSPB and, thanks to social media, there is also a growing number of bird photographers. From the giant raptors of our skies to the sweetest singing garden robin, from the streets of London to the Masai Mara, How to See Birds offers us the key to a thrilling world. Using his photographs as a guide, Matthew takes us on a very personal birdwatching journey and in the process, helps us to see birds –to really see birds. The book also includes a foreword by Martin Harper who is Global Conservation Director of the RSPB.

K R Redford and W M Adams

Strange Natures: Conservation in the Era of Synthetic Biology

Bill Adams is Emeritus Moran Chair of Conservation and Development at the University of Cambridge.

Conservation scientist Kent Redford and geographer Bill Adams turn to synthetic biology, ecological restoration, political ecology, and de-extinction studies and propose a thoroughly innovative vision for protecting nature.

Nature almost everywhere survives on human terms. The distinction between what is natural and what is human-made, which has informed conservation for centuries, has become blurred. When scientists can reshape genes more or less at will, what does it mean to conserve nature?

The tools of synthetic biology are changing the way we answer that question. Gene editing technology is already transforming the agriculture and biotechnology industries. What happens if synthetic biology is also used in conservation to control invasive species, fight wildlife disease, or even bring extinct species back from the dead?

“What is natural and what is artificial in the era of the Anthropocene? This is the core question addressed by Kent Redford and Bill Adams’ book. It is impressive how the book manages to be so rich in perspectives on such a complex and controversial phenomenon, yet so cautiously and open-mindedly written that it invites contemplation and reflection rather than hasty conclusions.” Adam Wickberg, Global Environmental Politics

Toby Green

(1987-92)

The Covid Consensus: The New Politics of Global Inequality

Why does Western pandemic policy have support across the political spectrum, when its social impacts conflict with ideology on both right and left?

During the pandemic, the Left has agreed that 'following the science' with hard lockdowns is the best way to preserve life; only irresponsible right-wing populists oppose them. But social science shows that while the rich have got richer, those suffering most under lockdown are the already disadvantaged: the poor, the young, and – most overlooked of all – the Global South. The UN is predicting tens of millions of deaths from hunger and warning that decades of development are being reversed. Equally, why have conservatives backed lockdowns and other major interventions, creating the big state that they usually abhor?

These contradictions within the great consensus of Western pandemic response are part of a broader crisis in Western thought. Toby Green peels back the policy paradoxes to reveal irreconcilable beliefs in our societies. These deep divisions are now bursting into the open, with devastating consequences for the global poor.

The Covid Consensus has received excellent reviews and follows on from the success of A Fistful of Shells, winner of the Nayef Al-Rodhan Prize for Global Cultural Understanding 2019 and shortlisted for the Cundill History Prize and the Pius Adesanmi Memorial Award. Simon Jenkins commented, “an excellent book at a critical time” and the London Review of Books wrote “a bracing polemic”.

Pauline

Alex Paseau (1988-93)

One True Logic

Alex Paseau is the Stuart Hampshire Fellow at Wadham College and Professor of Mathematical Philosophy at the University of Oxford. Author of more than 50 research articles and reviews, he has also edited the 5-volume anthology Philosophy of Mathematics and co-edited the collection Mathematical Knowledge The co-author is Owen Griffiths, Lecturer in Philosophy, UCL and University of Cambridge.

Logical monism is the claim that there is a single correct logic, the 'one true logic' of the title. The view has evident appeal, as it reflects assumptions made in ordinary reasoning as well as in mathematics, the sciences, and the law. In all these spheres, we tend to believe that there are determinate facts about the validity of arguments. Despite its evident appeal, however, logical monism must meet two challenges. The first is the challenge from logical pluralism, according to which there is more than one correct logic. The second challenge is to determine which form of logical monism is the correct one.

One True Logic is the first monograph to articulate explicitly a version of logical monism and defend it against the first challenge. It provides a critical overview of the monism vs pluralism debate and

argues for the former. It also responds to the second challenge by defending a particular monism, based on a highly infinitary logic. It breaks new ground on a number of fronts and unifies disparate discussions in the philosophical and logical literature. In particular, it generalises the TarskiSher criterion of logicality, provides a novel defence of this generalisation, offers a clear new argument for the logicality of infinitary logic and replies to recent pluralist arguments.

Sir Nigel Thompson (1952-55)

The Architect's Engineer: Memoir of a Life in Building Engineering and Restorative Development

Nigel Thompson walked to school around the bomb craters of the London Blitz – it made him want to build things, rather than knock them down. After studying structural engineering in Africa, he worked on hospitals and theatres in London, and later headed the team that designed the University of Qatar. He went on to design Embankment Place, a massive office complex built over London's Charing Cross railway station. Turning from building to rebuilding, he explored construction opportunities for British firms during the Gulf War, in Kuwait's still-burning oil fields. Following the 1999 bombing of Serbia and Kosovo, he led a reconstruction task force in Kosovo at the request of Tony Blair, for which he was knighted. Thompson's memoir details his long career in architectural design and construction, and in restorative development.

Nigel has been a governor at St Paul’s, is a past President of the Old Pauline Club and is a member of the Advisory Council.

Jonathan Haskel and Stian Westlake

Restarting the Future

The past two decades have witnessed sluggish economic growth, mounting inequality, dysfunctional competition, and a host of other ills that have left people wondering what has happened to the future they were promised. Restarting the Future reveals how these problems arise from a failure to develop the institutions demanded by an economy now reliant on intangible capital such as ideas, relationships, brands, and knowledge.

Jonathan Haskel and Stian Westlake argue that the great economic disappointment of the century is the result of an incomplete transition from an economy based on physical capital, and show how the vital institutions that underpin our economy remain geared to an outmoded way of doing business. The growth of intangible investment has slowed significantly in recent years, making the world poorer, less fair, and more vulnerable to existential threats. Haskel and Westlake present exciting new ideas to help us catch up with the intangible revolution, offering a road map for how to finance businesses, improve our cities, fund more science and research, reform monetary policy, and reshape intellectual property rules for the better.

Drawing on Haskel and Westlake’s experience at the forefront of finance and economic policy-making, Restarting the Future sets out a host of radical but practical solutions that can lead us into the future.

Graham Seel (History Department 2012-21)

Scholars and Soldiers

In the Summer Term of 2020 Graham Seel was the recipient of a sabbatical. This was granted to him by the Governors and High Master to provide opportunity for research into the 490 – actually, 511 – OPs who fell in the First World War. Following his retirement, Graham has reached a point where his research has progressed sufficiently for it to be shared. The material amounts to two volumes, each of which carries the main title ‘Scholars and Soldiers’. It is Graham’s intention to add in due course a third volume composed entirely of maps and present-day photographs of relevant parts of the Western Front.

The purpose of Volume 1 (‘Scholars and Soldiers Service and Commemoration’) is threefold: 1) to recognise the number of OPs who fought in the 1st World War and to comprehend their reasons for so doing; 2) to identify, quantify and reveal the stories of OPs who served in the war, 511 of whom fell; and 3) to provide a record of the activities and enterprises undertaken by the School to ensure that these OPs are not forgotten. Volume 2 (‘Scholars and Soldiers the Ypres Salient and the 93 ’) identifies OPs who fell in the Ypres Salient and uncovers their stories. This volume thus provides a detailed case study of the 1st World War in the Ypres Sector 1914-1918, described through the experiences of OPs.

Graham has not yet decided how best to make available this material. His ambition is to make known its existence, to ensure it is freely accessible and in due course that it assumes an electronic presence of some sort. The Alumni Newsletter will keep readers in touch on how this will be done in the run-up to Remembrance Sunday.

Pauline Appointments

Sir Mene Pangalos (1980-85) has been elected a Fellow of the Royal Society. Mene has made outstanding contributions to drug discovery and life science across multiple pharmaceutical companies; leading scientific and cultural R&D transformation, pioneering privatepublic partnerships, developing new scientific talent and guiding UK life science strategy. He led the partnership with Oxford University in developing the COVID-19 vaccine.

Trust, and Trustee of the UK Holocaust Memorial Foundation. He founded the Travelex Group, the world’s largest retailer of foreign exchange, in 1976 and sold the company in 2015. He was Chair of Prince’s Trust International from 2015 to 2021, and of the Prince’s Trust from 2015 to 2018.

Dr Shamil Chandaria (1979-83) has been awarded an OBE for services to Science and Technology, to Finance and to Philanthropy.

Orlando Fraser (1980-84) has been appointed chairman of the Charity Commission despite the House of Commons Culture Select Committee not endorsing his appointment. The text of Question 79 of his pre-appointment Select Committee hearing suggests why:

Dr Huq (Lab, Ealing Cen and Acton):

Orlando Fraser: No, I am very happy to say. I went to St Paul's School, which is an independent day school in west London, and I went on to Fitzwilliam College, Cambridge.

Sir Lloyd Dorfman (1965-70) has been appointed Commander of the Royal Victorian Order (CVO) for services to the Prince's Trust.

Final quickie from me: the version of the CV that we were supplied with did not say anything about whether you had been to school or university. We are all employers here – we look for that kind of thing. Just out of interest, and for the record, can you tell us where you went to school and university? It may be interesting, on the question of same old, same old.

Orlando Fraser: I do not know whether it will be interesting for the committee and I do not know whether it is a matter of private life. Chair, would you like that information?

Chair, Julian Knight (C, Solihull): I think it is probably on Wikipedia.

Sir Lloyd has also been appointed Chair of the Royal Opera House Board of Trustees. He has been Chairman of Doddle since 2014, and in addition is Chairman of Dorfman Media Holdings, Trustee of BAFTA and Trustee of the Royal Academy Trust, Deputy Chairman of the Community Security

Dr Huq: I have been looking; it is not on Wikipedia. Tell us! It is not a state secret.

Chair: If you wish to name your school and university, that is fine. If you don't want to, that is not a problem either.

Quentin Letts in The Times on April 1st, 2022 captures the hearing elegantly. “For a body entrusted with defending free speech, the Culture Committee is not wildly tolerant. Its MPs (and, from the look of his nodding yesterday, its clerk) obsess about identity politics and diversity targets. Candidates for quango seats must be woke. If you fail to be from some minority, the committee is displeased. This happened recently to Orlando Fraser QC, proposed new chairman of the Charity Commission. He performed superbly at a hearing, but the committee refused to endorse him because he was the wrong colour and background. Fraser was probably a victim of a petty spat between the committee’s publicity-prone chairman, Julian Knight (C, Solihull), and the culture secretary. John Nicolson (SNP, Ochil & South Perthshire), who seldom extracts his head from the sphincter of Twitter, by the way, is a white Ivy-Leaguer. Giles Watling (C, Clacton), who banged on about diversity, was wearing a Garrick tie. Kevin Brennan (Lab, Cardiff West), another grievance-jockey, is a former Oxford Union president.”

Fraser

Pauline Remembered

Nicholas Parsons CBE (1937-39), Memorial Service

Paul Ganjou (1960-65) attended a Memorial Service held on 7th April at St Paul’s Church, Covent Garden (The Actors’ Church) to honour Nicholas Parsons, who was one of the country’s most successful and best-loved entertainers in a unique career spanning seven decades. He shares some highlights of the service, the after party and his memories of Nicholas.

Fascinating eulogies and tributes were given by Giles Brandreth, Esther Rantzen, Sheila Hancock, Angela Rippon, Paul Merton, the Rev Roger Royle and Nicholas’ son, Justin – and St Paul’s and Colet Court were mentioned several times.

Many anecdotes were told about his 75-year career, including hosting two of the most successful and best loved shows of any era – Sale of The Century and more recently, Just a Minute Paul Merton said that Parsons was known everywhere because of it –everywhere, that is, apart from Broadcasting House. Near the end of his life, he was stopped in the foyer by a BBC security guard. “Are you here for Just a Minute?” he asked. Parsons nodded. “Well, the queue starts outside round the corner, mate” the guard told him. Merton said that his longevity was a marvel – “he was the only star still working who was mentioned in the Bible”, he said. “He did the cabaret at the Last Supper. It was a tough crowd.”

It was an extremely moving and uplifting service and at the end, there was a Just a Minute standing ovation in heartfelt recognition of the wonderful life of this remarkable man, who had helped so many people in the multitude of charities he supported, as well as in show business.

There was a party in the church gardens’ marquee afterwards with a ‘Celebratory’ dress code. I knew Nicholas quite well, not only as an OP, but also as a Companion Water Rat (the show-business charity and Nicholas was a Past King Rat). I therefore wore an OP blazer, knowing

that Nicholas was particularly fond of blazers and very proud of his long association with the School.

I interviewed Nicholas for an article for Atrium in 2019 and discovered that, although I was at St Paul’s 21 years after him, we shared memories of at least three masters – Bo Langham and boxing’s Bill Williams and Buster Reed. There was much mingling and reminiscing amongst the 200 odd guests which included many wellknown faces including Lee Mack, Stephen Fry, Tim Rice, Jess Conrad, and Martyn Lewis. To my surprise, there was also another guest wearing an OP blazer: Richard J Muir (1966-72) and we duly swapped notes. Richard had got to know Nicholas and his family quite well through the SPS Benefactors scheme – and although photography was not encouraged, we managed to sneak a surreptitious OPC snap.

A memorial plaque to Nicholas now graces the wall of the Actors’ Church, alongside many of other greats and national treasures, including Sir Noël Coward, Sir Charlie Chaplin, Dame Diana Rigg, Vivien Leigh, Sir Terence Rattigan, Boris Karloff, Ivor Novello, Stanley Holloway, Laurence Harvey and Thomas Arne (Rule Britannia). 

Pauline Gallantry

Brigadier the Rev Charles “John” Harris (1910-13) is among the Paulines who fought through both world wars. He took part in one of the last cavalry charges on horses at the Battle of Cambrai in November 1917. Cambrai is one of the few battles where both tanks and horses were seen in action on the same day.

Harris left School in 1913 joining the Anglo-Mexican oil company, Tampico. On the outbreak of war, he returned to England and enlisted in the Artists Rifles. After being commissioned, he joined the 2nd Lancers, seeing action in France and Palestine. In peace time he remained in the army serving in Poona where he excelled at polo and pig-sticking and where he shot a bear and a tiger. Further Indian postings between the wars were in Simla, Delhi and Quetta where he served under Montgomery (1902-06).

On the outbreak of the Second World War, he was on leave in Devon but immediately returned to India. In June 1941 he took command of the 2nd Lancers with orders to take the regiment to Egypt where he was appointed commander of the Desert Brigade. He was mentioned in despatches in defeat at Bir Hacheim, later in the war he joined General Slim’s 14th Army HQ in West Bengal but after contracting pneumonia and malaria he was evacuated to England on a cargo ship carrying onions.

He left the Army in 1946 and after studying at Ridley Hall was ordained, becoming a curate and a prison chaplain in Dorchester. In 1950 he took up the living of Burbage in Wiltshire. In the mid 1960s, he retired to Kent and despite having both hips replaced, Harris continued to take services and to ride. His final ambition was to be photographed on a horse in uniform on his 100th birthday. A horse had been acquired but he died six days short of the great day.

Nicholas

Lord Etherton (1965-68) – Friend of the People

Terence Etherton tells Theo Hobson about life as a legal pioneer, and laughing off a hostile headline

In

2016, just a few months after the Brexit vote, Lord Etherton was one of the three senior judges castigated by The Daily Mail as ‘Enemies of the People’. Their offence was to have found in favour of Gina Miller, who had challenged the legality of the government’s decision to activate Article 50 of the Lisbon Treaty, which meant immediate withdrawal from the EU. While presenting him as an unelected elitist blocking the will of the people, the paper drew attention to Lord Etherton’s homosexuality, as well as his youthful expertise in fencing. J.K. Rowling came to his defence: ‘If the worst they can say about you is that you’re an openly gay Olympic fencer top judge, you’ve basically won at life.’

Before speaking to Terence Etherton on a Zoom call, I wondered if that would make a good opening question: does he feel like he’s won at life? But once we have said hello, such an opening gambit feels inappropriately brash. It’s the sort of thing one might ask Donald Trump, not a modest, affable pillar of the British establishment.

So, I ask him how he came to be sent to St Paul’s, and whether previous generations of his family had been privately educated. ‘No, they had not. My great-grandparents on both sides came from the Pale of Settlement, in Russia. They were very religious and very poor Jews – they all came to the East End due to pogroms and persecution of one sort or another.

My paternal grandfather set up a tobacconist shop. My father left school at fifteen, then joined the Navy during

the Second World War, then he also set up a tobacconist business – near Euston station. I was born above the shop – which had an outside toilet, like most houses in those days. My father did quite well and we moved out to Essex. The story is that, out of the blue, he went and bought a public school almanac, and decided to send my older brother Derek and myself to a private prep school. My mother also valued education: after school she had won a scholarship to study history, but when she met my father, she gave up her studies. So, we were sent off to a school in Kent: Holmewood House.

I loved it, and joined the Scouts, and became head boy. Coming to St Paul’s was a difficult transition, because that prep school was a rather exceptional place, like a big family, with very friendly teachers. A big day school felt rather anonymous and cold.’ But it helped that he knew a few Paulines through the youth group of the synagogue that his family attended.

‘It was a Reformed synagogue – my family wasn’t very religious by now.’

He was put into the classics stream, and remembers some very good history teachers: Peter Thomson, and Hugh Mead, ‘whom I liked a lot’. He was there when the school moved from Hammersmith to Barnes and found it exciting to have so much space and so many new facilities. He particularly enjoyed the new fencing salle, having realised that this was his sport. ‘St Paul’s was one of the great fencing schools at that time – it had two fencing masters, as well as the salle. And I was good at it.’ He was so good at it that he was soon selected for the national under 20 team.

Though he enjoyed school, he was not entirely socially at ease. Looking back, he attributes this in part to his sexuality, which he was only dimly aware of. ‘I suppose I was struggling to be ‘normal’, to fit in with the group, but feeling I was somehow different. You just live with it at that stage and try to conform’. This only partly changed when he was at university:

understood that I was gay, I think, but didn’t come out at all.’

Photo by Roger Harris

He read medieval history for two years at Corpus Christi, Cambridge. ‘Then I thought I had better earn a living, so I changed to law. But I’m very glad I did history as well as law, because law becomes all-consuming, so it’s good to widen one’s interests while one still can.’ Fencing was still a major interest. In 1977 he joined the Olympic team, training for the Moscow Olympics of 1980 (he had by now changed from foil to sabre). But he never went to the Games, deciding to join the boycott of Russia following its invasion of Afghanistan. ’In fact, there were other factors too. There was also the fact that Russia was then banning Jews from travelling to Israel, so my political opposition was not just the standard Cold War thing. But my decision to withdraw was also about my career. By that time, I had been a junior barrister for five years and my clerk was getting impatient with all my foreign travel, because fencing is very international, and I wasn’t building up a big practice at the bar. So, I decided that it wasn’t really sustainable to do both.’

He became increasingly aware of the lack of diversity in the legal profession. ‘I was in ‘Chancery’, which specialised in estate planning, conveyancing, and tax, and in my ‘set’ there were nine of us, all white men. And I don’t think there was a single member of an ethnic minority in the whole Chancery bar.’ He became involved in trying to promote diversity, and by the late 1980s things began to change significantly.

But certain barriers to diversity remained, including in relation to homosexuality. In the 1970s, the Lord Chancellor Lord Hailsham had argued that homosexuals should not be appointed judges, as they were more likely to be blackmailed. ‘The absurdity of this was that they were only liable to be blackmailed because of the very prejudice that he was promoting.’ But this rule did not reflect widespread attitudes in the profession, he feels. By the 1980s he was open about his sexuality, and colleagues knew of his relationship with Andrew, who is now his husband. ‘But I didn’t make a big deal of it, I wasn’t the campaigning type.’ Human rights was not his branch of law, but he was involved behind the scenes in the gay rights

movement, and also in charities helping AIDS victims. Soon he was able to help such campaigns financially as well. Along with a colleague from his chambers he branched out into advocacy work, and built up a very substantial litigation practice, with an international reach.

He became a QC in 1990, and his practice continued to flourish, but he began to be more interested in public service. Fortunately, Lord Hailsham’s policy was quietly revoked in 1991 (rather surprisingly by Lord Mackay, stalwart of the ‘Wee Free’ church, known for its conservatism), so the possibility of the bench became real. In 2001 he became a High Court judge, the first to be openly gay; over the last decade he has been Lord Justice of Appeal, Chancellor of the High Court and then Master of the Rolls.

His first case as Master of the Rolls was the famous Brexit one that landed him and two colleagues on the front pages. ‘We had anticipated, and discussed, that the issue was so highly charged that, whatever the outcome, there was bound to be some sort of criticism. But I was so busy at that time, having just started this new role, that all the furore didn’t affect me very much. And the reference to my homosexuality didn’t bother me — there was no question of outing me as I had been fully out for many years. It just seemed rather comical that it was mentioned alongside my interest in a minority sport, as grounds for seeing me as a rather suspect character – it was hilarious!’ According to his colleague Lord Burnett, the incident made Lord Etherton into ‘something of a folk hero’. To mark their admiration, his staff presented him with a Lego figure of himself: a fully robed and wigged judge wielding a sword (it’s a bit more of a Star Wars lightsabre than a fencing sabre).

What about the wider issue of a populist political mood seeing the judiciary as an unaccountable elite? Is there a danger that such politics can make judges seem undemocratic? ‘Well, there is always the possibility of judges being criticised, on the grounds that they are not elected. But it’s clear enough that our constitutional role is to interpret and enforce legislation that Parliament has made, including in this case the European Communities Act.

In 1977 he joined the Olympic team, training for the Moscow Olympics of 1980 (he had by now changed from foil to sabre). But he never went to the Games, deciding to join the boycott of Russia following its invasion of Afghanistan.

It’s a never-ending complaint, if a certain community or the press dislikes a ruling, to say that judges aren’t elected, but it’s rather irrelevant, because we’re not meant to be.’

He has recently been appointed by the Government to head an independent review into the dismissal from the Armed Services of military personnel who were or were perceived to be homosexual between 1967 and 2000. With the slow precision one would expect, he explains the reason for the review: ‘In 1967 the Sexual Offences Act decriminalised same sex acts between consenting adults in private but did not extend this to the military. The policy applied whether or not there were any sexual acts; it was sufficient for dismissal that the person in question had an LGBT orientation. The policy came to an end after two cases were brought before the European Court of Human Rights by three men and a woman who had been dismissed for their sexual orientation, and notwithstanding their excellent service records. The Court in Strasbourg held that in each case there had been a breach of the right to a private life under Article 8 of the European Convention on Human Rights. The ban and dismissal have left many of those affected with a sense of great bitterness. In many cases there were highly intrusive investigations by the military police into the sexual orientation of service personnel under suspicion. Dreams of military careers and lives were shattered.’

Is the main point of the inquiry to ensure that those who fell foul of the ban are properly compensated? ‘In broad terms the review is required to provide an opportunity for those who suffered from the ban to tell precisely what happened to them and how the dismissal has affected their lives subsequently, and to provide recommendations to the Government on how this disaffected group of veterans can be encouraged to join the wider community of veterans, and what can be done to rectify so far as possible the harm and injustice caused by the policy.’

In recent years he has often argued that the justice system must be made more accessible to all. What are the main current threats to such accessibility?

‘There are quite a few. In terms of

When I became a high court judge I decided that I would never deviate from being myself – a successful openly gay man in a gay relationship. And I’ve followed that – I’ve sought to show people who are nervous about being themselves that it is possible.

criminal law, we’ve lost half of the junior criminal bar, because they can’t afford to work. There must be people able to represent others, either pro bono or through legal aid. Also, we have to move with the times and improve online services, which can speed things up and can also provide good clear advice, ideally helping people to resolve disputes before they come to court, where they cost so much time and money.’ On the first issue of the relatively low pay of criminal lawyers, I risk asking a naive question. Why can’t there be some redistribution of earnings, so that some of the millions made by corporate lawyers are diverted in the direction of their socially useful colleagues? ‘Well, something of that sort has actually been proposed a couple of times, especially in relation to large firms of solicitors – to put aside funds for pro bono work. But that has to be done by persuasion, not by decree.’

His preference for gentle persuasion over confrontation also relates to his sexuality. He might not have been ‘the campaigning type’ in his youth, but as a grandee, Lord Etherton has surely made up for this: he has been delivering a clear message for many years, with calm dignified restraint. ‘When I became a high court judge I decided that I would never deviate from being myself – a successful openly gay man in a gay relationship. And I’ve followed that – I’ve sought to show people who are nervous about being themselves that it is possible. If people are good at what they do, they will do well – they can’t expect special treatment because they are different, but they can expect to be treated the same.’ 

Folio – Boys’ Own

Theo Hobson looks back at the magazine that embodied the spirit of St Paul’s

Folio was the longest running publication put together entirely by Paulines – and, for most of its life, Paulinas. It ran from 1954 to 1991. A delve in the archives offers a glimpse of the dramatic social changes of these years.

For its first six years, it resembles a broadsheet newspaper of the day – lots of sober stories about school matters crammed together on large pages, with very few images. Gradually the outer world begins to intrude. In 1958 we are told that ‘On Wednesday mornings a calculated 48 per cent of all Pauline conversation somehow concerns [the radio comedy show] The Goons.’ But it only intrudes so far. The summer edition of 1959 has an article headed ’Tiddlywinks at St Paul’s’. ‘Pauline winking is run by two main bodies: the All-Plastic Tiddlywinks Club de St Paul’s and the Oblong Tiddlywink Club von St Paul.’ You can see why the sixties were needed.

The format loosened up considerably in the next year or two: by 1961 there were more images, more (rather tentative) irreverence, less sport. And more serious journalism. In 1966, under the editorship of Richard Zorza (1963-67), the broadsheet format was replaced and Folio the magazine was born. The changes were continued by Julian Manyon (1964-67) over the next couple of years. And there was a new spirit of earnest political engagement.

Political issues included race. In 1966 Julian Manyon wrote a thoughtful piece on racism. Many Britons look down on the recent immigrants, he says, so as a nation we have no claim to liberal superiority. ‘Let us remember that the Americans in Selma and the white Rhodesians are our cousins and we share their guilt – let us not share their sin.’

Two years later Manyon interviewed Richard Neville, editor of the radical hippie magazine Oz. ‘Politicians to me are the most insidious, vile human beings one could contemplate’, said Neville, before being asked about drugs. They ‘show you a part of yourself that you didn’t know existed’. It is unlikely that the school would allow drugs to be puffed, so to speak, these days.

In the same year, 1968, Jon Blair (1967-69) emerged as a socially conscious roving reporter, with echoes of Orwell. In an article on the Hammersmith Palais, then a popular dancehall, he argued that the gaudy hedonism was a necessary escape from difficult lives. He was surprised to see so many homosexuals and lesbians there: ‘one must certainly sympathise with their desire to achieve some degree of normality, be it only temporarily, and a night out at the Palais might well achieve this.’

Blair also reported on conditions at three local state schools. At Mortlake Boys School he found ‘an obvious lack of funds to buy, say a new carpet for the Headmaster’s office, or little items of maintenance that are so essential if a school is to have a decent appearance.’ At St. Hilda’s, a school for children with learning difficulties, he met a boy who had noticed St Paul’s’ ample playing fields and wondered if he could play football there. ‘How does one explain that he’ll probably never play football there, and that he will always be doomed to the asphalt of his state education?’

In the seventies, interviews with big names became more common. In 1972 Enoch Powell doubted that the British people really wanted to join the EEC: “It isn’t the price of

A few years later John Betjeman was informed by his interviewer that his work now appeared on the O-level syllabus: ‘Heavens! Poor things. I’m flattered and pleased – but sorry for all of you.’

butter that people are worried about, it is independence’. He was asked whether national sovereignty was a dangerous concept: ‘All living is dangerous. So, if national sovereignty were dangerous, that wouldn’t necessarily be against it.’ A few years later John Betjeman was informed by his interviewer that his work now appeared on the O-level syllabus: ‘Heavens! Poor things. I’m flattered and pleased – but sorry for all of you.’

By the mid-seventies, interviewees were as likely to be entertainers and TV personalities as serious thinkers. In 1975 Helen Mirren was featured, and soon after newsreader Anna Ford (she was probably easier to book, being the sister of the SPGS chaplain).

But a campaigning streak also remained, and state education was still a major interest. In 1977 Thurstan Bannister (1973-78) visited Holland Park Comprehensive. It was refreshing to see a school that was ‘a real reflection of what the community is like. Should intelligent middle-class parents overcome their fears and prejudices about “all those rough boys at the comprehensive” and have the courage to mitigate the faults that admittedly exist in Holland Park, it may become ‘de rigeur’ for the middle class to be state educated.’

In 1978 Matthew Burton (1975-80) wrote a piece of investigative journalism that stayed daringly local. ‘Surely we’ve all, in our idler moments at St Paul’s, wondered what went on in that building which so strongly resembles a Scandinavian sauna chalet.’ He refers, of course, to the Swedish school just beyond the railings of the furthest

playing field. Though he and his fellow reporter Thurstan Bannister lacked a ‘real appointment’, they ‘were given a very friendly welcome.’ They discovered a co-educational paradise, free of exam anxiety. These students should be invited to share our resources, attend our events, Burton concludes. The article was unimaginatively titled ‘Do Blondes Have More Fun? Scandinavian Ones Do!’

Inevitably, Jonathan Miller (1947-53) was regularly interviewed. The satire show that he co-founded, Beyond the Fringe, was a major stylistic influence on the magazine, with its affectionate ribbing of traditionalism. The influence is evident in an article of 1979 about the inter-club competition, the rugby leagues. ‘Folio reporters attended a game between two sides imaginatively named F and H. It was difficult to decide whether the teams or the crowd were more peculiar.’

Inevitably, Jonathan Miller (1947-53) was regularly interviewed. The satire show that he co-founded, Beyond the Fringe, was a major stylistic influence on the magazine, with its affectionate ribbing of traditionalism

After some further witty reportage, the author concludes that ‘it is one of the school rituals unexplained but accepted, it is part of the Public School mythology and thus almost certainly a good thing.’ Our cub wit is Gideon Rachman (1976-80), now of the FT. 

By 1985 it was mostly a showcase for poems and art and began to peter out.

In 1980 Griff Rhys Jones, the 26-year-old star of Not the Nine O’clock News, was asked whether he thought women were less humorous than men. ‘Well, certainly not the reverse. It’s a difficult question to answer. I think that women, in general, have a different sense of humour to men. An enigmatic reply!’

In 1982 John Simpson (1957-62) reminisced, a bit sardonically, about Folio in his own day. ‘It was a ramshackle type of newspaper rather like a cut-down version of the Daily Mirror, filled with jokes and embarrassing poems by people, but at 2 1/2p nobody complained.’ As he then read the news at nine o’clock, he was asked what he thought of the aforementioned comedy show, Not the Nine O’clock News. ‘I just wish it weren’t on at nine o’clock, as I can’t imagine anybody with discretion or taste watching us when Not the Nine O’clock News is on.’ Then the interviewer, Philippe Clift (1978-83), suddenly aired a gripe: ‘What was the CU like when you were at St Paul’s, like I mean did you have to be a member of it before being Captain of the School, which might be a present-day criticism?’ Simpson: ‘Really, it sounds like St Paul’s is becoming more like the Soviet Union all the time.’

The habits of ‘the average Pauline’ have always been mysterious, but in 1982 the magazine claimed to have discovered, through a survey, various facts about him, including that he goes to bed at 10:53, after doing homework for 2 hrs 6 minutes and watching television for 1 hr 11 minutes; also, that he spends £1.19 per week on records, 78p on clothes and 40p on cigarettes.

In 1983 certain luminaries were asked for their thoughts on school magazines. Bernard Levin guessed that a large proportion of junior journalists go on to become writers of some sort, ‘suggesting that the habit of writing is something we are born with, like haemophilia or a squint.’ He added that a school magazine should not be too school-focused but ‘should aim to be as close to a ‘real’ magazine as possible, and to encourage good writing on a wide variety of subjects.’

In the mid 1980s parochial trendspotting was on the rise. Plentiful photo-collages displayed impressive haircuts, and in-jokes and general silliness abounded. The main impression is that the Folio committee had been having a lot of cliquey fun. By 1985 it was mostly a showcase for poems and art and began to peter out. Other publications have arisen since. For a few years SPA was an important outlet for arty types, and Black and White has been a lively companion to the The Pauline. But to OPs of a certain age, Folio will always be the perfect mix of earnestness and show-off fun.

Cub Hack Heaven

Atrium brought four former editors of Folio together for a chat: Julian Manyon, former foreign correspondent for ITV, Jon Blair, filmmaker, Thurstan Bannister, who abandoned journalism for financial services, and Jonathan Foreman, journalist and editor.

Julian Manyon: My memories of Folio are coloured by the fact that my schooldays coincided with turbulent times. We felt like a new generation, in the shadow of the Cold War, with the Vietnam War going on, and that had an effect on the way that I looked at these things. There was a spirit of anticipation, and excitement, and that was reflected in the journalism of the time – various publications had changed quite radically. I’m grateful to Folio that I had a way of participating in that, in a small way, and getting into writing.

Jon Blair: Yes, when I arrived in 1967 the school felt incredibly staid and conventional to me. But I was a bit of an outsider – I had fled South Africa the year before because I had been drafted. But yes, things were changing. Many of the pupils were responding to the wider culture and becoming quite radical – there was a questioning of public school tradition that was soon expressed in Lindsay Anderson’s film if….. Even though the CCF had recently ended, there was still plenty to kick against. But the attitudes of the teaching body were still from the previous decade. So, Folio felt like a crucial outlet for creativity.

JM: Around 1966 I worked with the previous editor Richard Zorza to change the format of the magazine, which had previously been very traditional and dull:

I was Art Editor, so in charge of the graphic design. I was very much influenced by meeting Richard Neville, the Australian who brought Oz magazine to Britain. That to me was the model of what a modern magazine should look like, with its integration of writing and artwork, and it was also a model of journalistic freedom. Although we weren’t allowed total freedom, I don’t recall feeling that the hand of the school interfered too much.

JM: I can’t agree. I feel we were tolerated to a degree, but the heavy hand would come down if we passed that degree. As I recall, two members of staff acted as censors, at the instruction of the High Master. When one of my articles was censored, I was furious and had a falling-out with the High Master over it. It was printed, but with a lot of white space where sentences had been cut out, which reminded me of the practice in Rhodesia at the time. So, in protest I resigned as editor and the whole thing marked me out as a troublemaker for my remaining time at the school.

Thurstan Bannister: I remember one of the articles that I proposed being quashed. In fact, I proposed it to Mr Hele, the High Master, because it needed the school’s backing. I wanted to do an evaluation of the performance of the different departments in the school, asking which teachers got their pupils the 

top O-level and A-level grades. But just to go back to my overall feelings about the magazine, I saw it as a complete revelation, that pupils were given such freedom to write about whatever they wanted, and it was a chance to meet progressive people at the school. There was still a progressive edge to it in the mid 70s – but maybe less of the socially conscious reporting that Jon went in for.

JM: Yes, I was directly imitating George Orwell –for one article I spent a couple of nights at the homeless centre in Hammersmith Broadway, meeting down and outs. It struck me that very few people at St Paul’s were aware of their privilege, including the staff, so it felt like a worthwhile agenda. But I was also interested in culture, especially music, which was hugely important to lots of us at that time. But I already had a sense that journalism was what I wanted to do in life – I didn’t yet know it would be in the form of television, but I already had a sense that journalism was a way in which one could change the world, and it has stayed with me for fifty years or so.

Jonathan Foreman: By my time, the early 1980s, the socially conscious element had faded a bit, I’m afraid. My first impression of the magazine was that it was an excitingly grown-up thing, because of course it was made by the 8th formers. And soon I realised it was a great way to meet Paulinas.

JM: Yes, that was a benefit, especially for a boarder. It was better than hanging round the Commonwealth Institute, trying to meet girls. I made a few good Paulina friends, with whom I stayed in touch.

JF: And there weren’t many other opportunities to meet Paulinas, just the orchestra or drama. But in my day drama was very elitist, almost no one got the chance to act. I remember how much more glamorous and cosmopolitan the Paulinas were – the sociological difference between the schools was really striking. So, my early memories, before I was editor, are of being just dazzled by some of the girls. I had a huge crush on a Folio editor called Polly Whitelegge. It was worth going to the editorial meetings just to be in the same room.

TB: I remember production meetings taking place at someone’s home. It was my first experience of working into the early hours – we had to take the final copy to the printers the next day, which was a place in Notting Hill Gate – it was such a relief when it was finally delivered. And I clearly remember the day of publication – around the last day of term. You rushed round school trying to sell it for 10p or whatever it was and trying to make sure you covered the cost of production so that the magazine didn’t collapse under your watch. I also remember going round the local shops trying to sell half-page adverts.

JF: In terms of producing the magazine, there was a boys editor and a girls editor, so there was sometimes a bit of a battle about who was really in charge. In fact, my co-editor was a wonderful person, Michal Friedlander, a professor now, but she got very annoyed in meetings, we drove her mad – and someone did a drawing of us all round the table and she had a thundercloud over her head. I should add that it was another of the Paulinas, Laura Birnhak, who ended up doing most of the hard work of

I’d urge today’s Paulines to get involved – in writing, editing, raising money, selling – all aspects of producing a magazine are valuable

production – it helped to have one really calm and competent person on the committee.

TB: It’s interesting that gender politics never really seemed problematic back then, it was just a source of gentle humour.

JF: Yes, in terms of content, I don’t recall any tense sexual politics like you might get today, any ideological disputes about what can and can’t be printed. There wasn’t that sort of tension between boys and girls, just a sort of detached, friendly curiosity about each other’s lives.

JM: I don’t recall many people submitting articles and us having to reject them – except for creative writing. That was the main thing that people actually submitted voluntarily.

JF: I found it quite hard to get people to write for it. The idea of getting someone to report from a homeless shelter was pretty inconceivable in my day. I had a sense that people didn’t have much time, due to exam pressure I suppose. And there was no official help, to encourage people to contribute. But I suppose opinion pieces were quicker to write, so we ran lots of those, and lots of jokey pieces, and artwork. But yes, there was a lot of light stuff about fashion and pop music – being trendy was terribly important. Lots of people read it for the gossip column called Grapevine.

JM: Art was also central in my day when we changed to the magazine format. We worked closely with the art department, in designing it, and the art masters helped us with incorporating photography and screen prints. And it felt exciting, because at that time in the wider world magazines that used artwork were culturally powerful, rather like the internet and social media today.

TB: I was certainly influenced by the news magazines of the day, which were available in the reading area just outside the library. I’d read New Society, The New Statesman, and get ideas. I liked feeling that I was railing against the establishment, and the traditional aspects of the school – classics and the rugby, but also enjoying the wonderful atmosphere of freedom, the clever debating, long lunch breaks – it was a sort of contradiction. And in terms of what Jonathan was saying about mixing the serious and the fun, I had a sense that it was the gossip and the jokes that made it marketable, and I had to smuggle in my earnest editorials in the spaces between.

JF: We were very influenced by Private Eye – there was lots of would-be satire in there. We also ran some serious stuff on culture and politics. I’m just flicking through an old copy here, and there’s an attack on the new Barbican Centre by Ben Lewis,

who went on to be an art critic. And also, a piece on foxhunting by Samantha Weinberg, who became a journalist. And a piece about Northern Ireland, and another on the Green Party in Germany. So, it wasn’t all jokes about haircuts and pop-music! But art was a big thing – we did a lot of photo-collages, stories with thought-bubbles, mostly about boys meeting girls. And we had the best artists in both schools offering to do covers for us, so there were some really great covers.

JM: I look back on it as a great opportunity to express oneself, but also to feel involved in the momentous issues of the day. And I think it’s an important experience, part of being at a school like St Paul’s, so I hope that current Paulines have the opportunity. Maybe this discussion can prompt a revival.

JF: For one article we got well-known people to write about school magazines. One of the contributors, Alan Coren, said that all magazines are school magazines, and there’s a lot of truth to that. I’ve gone on to edit a couple of magazines, and the basic issues don’t change much.

TB: I got a lot out of the experience. In fact, I think that it’s the things that you do voluntarily, outside of the curriculum, that can matter most in your education, because there’s a social and practical side to it. So, I’d urge today’s Paulines to get involved – in writing, editing, raising money, selling – all aspects of producing a magazine are valuable. And because software for making electronic magazines is now very intuitive and low cost, so a new version of Folio could be created more easily, without the time spent previously on production and fund-raising.

JF: It was a great educational experience, a chance to be creative and find out what interests you. Everything else was about A-levels or getting into Oxbridge, so it really stood out. You were really free to try stuff, it didn’t matter if it wasn’t all that good – it was just your friends judging you. It was really liberating.

Writing Books that Explain Things

Alex Frith (1991-1996) is a children’s non-fiction author and editor working on staff for Usborne Publishing.

Anyone who studied Classics will be familiar with the idea of sons who strive to earn a better reputation than their parents. Success stories include Achilles becoming more famous than his father Peleus, or Alexander conquering more than his father Phillip could ever imagine. As far as I’m concerned, outdoing my parents simply isn’t an option. I’ve turned to a saying that everyone in the modern age is familiar with: if you can’t beat them, join them.

It took some 5 years of work, but I managed to complete a joint project with both of my parents, a graphic novel – for grown-ups, mind! – called Two Heads (see Pauline Books on page 14). I wrote the script, but the story it tells is about the achievements of Uta and Chris Frith, two leading neuroscientists (my mother is something of a leading expert in autism and dyslexia; my father in schizophrenia and the question of consciousness). Which is to say, all the interesting bits of the book come from their life and work – although I can flatter myself that it’s me who has made the book fun to read and, more crucially, accessible to a general audience. No prior knowledge of brains required!

To an extent, this kind of writing is an extension of the very skills everyone learns at school – it’s like a really big homework project. You’re given a brief, some reading material, and then sent off to write it up before it gets marked. Only in this case, it was being marked by my parents rather than a teacher. Part of the point of homework is to prove to your teacher that you’ve understood whatever topic it is that you’ve just been learning about. So it is with books that explain

things. I, as writer, have to be SURE that I’ve understood the topic so that I can, in turn, explain it clearly and simply for readers. When my expertsin-the-field parents read over each new iteration of the script, to give their comments and suggestions, I was very much looking for that friendly tick in the margin…

As for contents of Two Heads, it is a little about how brains work, and a lot about how people interact with each other. Why does anyone need to know this? This is going to sound grandiose, but I honestly think understanding even a little about both makes life easier and has the potential to make the world a better place.

Here’s the thing – we literally live inside our brains. We don’t know WHY the way our brains work means that we have minds, and personalities, and likes and loves and all the emotions – but we DO know that we simply cannot exist without them. To know how our brains work is, literally, to understand ourselves better, which in turn makes living life a bit easier. Well, I find it comforting, anyway. The trouble is, even the finest minds in the field don’t claim to truly know how the brain works. We do know a few things, though, and I find them to be surprising and delightful, and hope readers of the book will agree! Even people who already have a basic understanding of neuroscience should get a kick out of seeing visual representations of how neurons do what they do.

But the meat of the book is about social interaction. The fact is, if there is one thing brains are designed to do, it is to interact with other brains. Any of you who have spent prolonged periods on your own, without talking to anyone else, will feel just how true

this is. Yes, it is also true that our brains are like a control and information-relay centre for our bodies, but they’re so much more. Brains are crude telepathy devices that attempt to decipher what other people are thinking and feeling, as well as communication devices that attempt to project our own thoughts and feelings to other people. Only we have to use the blunt tools of language, alongside the more sophisticated tools of empathy, body language and just copying each other a lot.

It is my view, after burying myself in the research and theories presented in the book, that the more we understand what our brains are doing, the better chance we have at learning to get along with one another. Especially when it comes to two key findings. 1) On the whole, people work better in pairs, or teams, than they do working alone. 2) Those pairs and teams get even better results the more varied the people on that team. Varied in

EVERY sense – yes, this includes race and gender and sexuality, the hot topics of today – but we humans also thrive on pooling our variation of how we approach problem-solving, or the things we enjoy, and even, to an extent, variation in how clever we are (or aren’t).

‘Teamwork is good’ is exactly the sort of phrase that people throw around as common-sense knowledge. Although it’s also the sort of thing that plenty of people, secretly, do not believe, but merely tolerate as a social idea. This book unpicks some of the scientific research that has gone into attempts to verify – or indeed falsify – this idea. Because real science doesn’t provide simple answers, it pokes around at ideas to try to get to truth slowly and carefully. And in this case, the research is very much ongoing, but the results so far are, I think, optimistic for our future as a human race. And yes, the results DO

support the hypothesis that teamwork IS good!

One question that often comes up when talking about the book is, why is it a graphic novel? Partly, in all honesty, it’s because we like comics and think they make the subject more digestible. But there’s something deeper at play, here, too, to do with being better at explaining things. With a normal, no-pictures-type book, a writer would work with an editor and perhaps expert consultants, job done. But for a comic, a writer has to work with an artist as well (there are writer-artists out there, and it’s not a coincidence that a person who can do both often achieves spectacular results). And that means, I’d better be so sure I know what I’m talking about, that I can translate the ideas into pictures as well as words. More than that, I have to be sure that the picture ideas make enough sense to the artist the s/he (in this case, a he) can draw them with the correct nuance to get the idea across. In other words, lots of levels of sense-checking before the book goes live (you know, the sort of checking teachers always tell you to do before you hand in that essay, that no one ever leaves time to actually do…)

I’ve been a comics reader all my life (Tintin, Asterix, the Beano and 2000AD being the most formative influences).

If I’ve learned anything, it’s that the artist is king. If you don’t let the artist dictate the flow of a story, it’s going to be either boring or difficult to read. I can’t underestimate how crucial Dan Locke’s contributions to this book were, mostly down to things such as ‘I can’t get that across in just one panel, give me 2!’, or ‘this idea would work really well as a whole page, not a measly panel’. All this adds up to make the book much bigger, and longer to create – but worth it in the end.

To create this book about how collaboration is (nearly) always the best way to do things, we like to think we practised what we were preaching. There were the three writers and the artist, of course, but also several editors, and as with most books helpful family members who offered vital criticisms on what was funny, what was not, what made sense, and what did not. Is the science behind the idea of collaboration sound? As an acolyte of the scientific method, I can only say: read about the research for yourself and make up your own mind.

ET CETERA

St Paul’s has always proved to be fertile ground for writers. Vivid memories of schooldays have spilled out across the literary spectrum from novels, autobiographies, memoirs and anthologies. Here are some examples from Paulines who were at School in the first half of the 20th Century.

The Dulford Match

His time at School is thinly disguised in Compton Mackenzie’s (18941900) third novel Sinister Street St Paul’s is St James’. High Master Walker is Dr Brownjohn. Mr Elam is the eccentric Mr Neech.

Sir Edward Montague Compton Mackenzie lived a very long life of 90 years. He needed to; he needed the time to write (or rather have published) 113 titles including a Scottish historical odyssey of almost a million words and an autobiography that runs to ten volumes.

During the First World War Mackenzie served with British Intelligence as a spy in the Mediterranean, later and inevitably publishing four books about his experiences. He loved it “as a boy enjoys playing pirates”. His most famous book is probably Whisky Galore, published in 1947 and turned into a classic film. It fictionalises real events that had taken place in 1941 when a cargo vessel bound for the United States with a load including 28,000 cases of scotch whisky had run aground on Eriskay: an island visible from Mackenzie’s then Barra home.

Sinister Street caused a stir. Henry James thought it was the most remarkable book written by a young author in his lifetime. The novelist Ford Madox Ford enigmatically described Sinister Street as ‘possibly a work of real genius’ while Eton’s headmaster wrote to The Times outraged by its allusions to teenage sexual urges.

“Cutty Jackson, the School back, had fielded it miraculously. He was going to punt. “Kick!” yelled the despairing spectators. And Jackson, right under the disappointed groans of the Dulford forwards whose muscles cracked with the effort to fetch him down, kicked the ball high, high into the silvery November air.”

St Paul’s is a very fine school

Arthur Calder-Marshall (1920-27) contributed a chapter on St Paul’s to Graham Greene’s 1934 collection of writers’ school reminiscences

The Old School.

Calder-Marshall wrote novels, film scripts and biographies. His range was wide from a biography of Father Ignatius (Joseph Leycester Lyne (1847-52)) to saucy seaside postcards. More Frank than Buchman, his chapter in The Old School is mostly about the Christian Union. It does not always describe a happy time, but CalderMarshall ended the chapter with “St Paul’s is a very fine school”.

Below is an extract from his first Christian Union/Pi-squash meeting.

At half-time he called for a double brandy Brother O’Mine was published in 1921. It was the first of more than thirty ‘school’ novels by Hylton Cleaver (1905-08). It established a theme that can also be seen in the likes of The Harley First XV and Caught in the Slips of a belief in the need for integrity and honour in all things. Bullies always lose out and practical jokes are only played on masters who deserve them. In a letter to The Pauline in 1920 Cleaver wrote that despite being “marred by chronic asthma, acute short-sightedness, ugliness and a deplorable stammer”, his time at School was “extraordinarily happy”.

His 1961 obituary in The Times suggests he lived to his own code, “he played his last game of rugby football at the approximate age of fifty; at half-time he called for a double brandy to augment the meagre slice of lemon that sufficed for his teammates, and it was taken out to him under escort on a tray”.

“Then an overgrown fellow came in called Erb. Except for a dog collar he was dressed like an ordinary man…. Then Erb read a bit I knew out of the Bible and said it meant that we must play hard. He said he thought Christ would have played hard for His school”.

La Tour’s first Preces

In 1961, Ernest Raymond’s (1901-04) Mr Olim was published. After St Paul’s, Raymond read Theology at Durham University and in 1914 was ordained. He served as a chaplain at Gallipoli, in the Sinai, France, Mesopotamia, Persia and Russia. He resigned Holy Orders in 1923 when he had the first of nearly fifty novels published. George Orwell praised Raymond as a “naturalist novelist”.

Mr Olim is the story of Davey La Tour’s (Raymond’s) time at St Erkenwald’s (St Paul’s) being taught by Mr Olim (Elam) when Dr Hodder (Walker) was High Master.

“Dr Hodder, over seventy on that morning, was probably the last of those nineteenth-century headmasters who held it their business to be formidable to the point of terror…. probably the most famous headmaster in England.

Over our crowded heads he boomed. “Oremus.” Never, I am still persuaded, was there a voice so deep, so reverberating, so shaking. “Oremus” might mean “Let us pray”, but on his thundering voice it meant, “Pray.” We prayed.”

The end of the “Prickly Pear”

Oliver Sacks (1946-51) in Uncle Tungsten; Memories of a Chemical Boyhood writes of his large sciencesteeped family, his friendships with Eric Korn (1946-52) and Jonathan Miller (1947-53) and the inspirational teaching of Sid Pask (Biology Department 1928-66).

With Miller and Korn, he had established “a smudgy, purple-inked mimeographed journal, the Prickly Pear ”. The High Master at the time, RL James (1946-53) closed it down. “Sacks, you’re dissolved.”

“But why, sir?” I asked. “What are your reasons?”

“I don’t have to give them to you, Sacks. I don’t have to have reasons. You can go now, Sacks. You don’t exist.”

St Paul’s was considered academically the better school

In 1947, Erik Jensen (1947-50) came to St Paul’s as a Foundation Scholar. While at School for the scholarship examinations he witnessed a match where one fencer in a brilliant manoeuvre disarmed his opponent then bowed to present him the recovered weapon with an elegant gesture – the very model of chivalry. Erik of course took up fencing. He also stroked the 4th Eight, was president of the Milton Society, starred as Mrs Malaprop in The Rivals, won art and reading prizes while being an academic star.

At his father’s insistence Erik went first as an undergraduate to the University of Copenhagen and, via a Harvard scholarship, he matriculated at Worcester College, Oxford having been underwritten by High Master RL James. There followed a varied and successful diplomatic career described along with his St Paul’s days in ALIEN ALOFT: unravelling identity in the pursuit of peace.

“Leakey (Headmaster of Dulwich Prep) withdrew my name from the Westminster exam; St Paul’s was considered academically the better school, and predominantly for day boys, which my parents preferred…. St Paul’s differed from the other great British public schools by not being principally a boarding school; in everything else it conformed”.

I've never seen anyone use algebra since I left school

Simon Bishop (1962-65) celebrated the life and writings of Eric Newby (1933-36) in the Autumn 2020

Atrium writing, “it is an unusual man who wins an MC with the Special Boat Service and has a lifelong subscription to Vogue.”

In A Traveller’s Life Newby remembers most the risks attached to wearing the school uniform in the street, describing the striped trousers and stiff collar as “ludicrous”. He entertains, often describing life as if telling a story at a louche dinner party. The tale of a scout patrol is typical; “On one occasion, when there was a danger of our losing one of the outdoor games known as ‘wide games’…. a member of my patrol whose family owned a large limousine in which he used to arrive at wherever was the meeting place, summoned the chauffeur, who was parked round the corner, and six scouts whirred away in it to certain victory.”

Newby was taken out of School aged 15, when his father anticipated he would fail the school certificate. “I was quite good at other things, but I was never any good at mathematics,” Eric explained later. “‘Let x be’ and all that. Let x be what? I’ve never seen anyone use algebra since I left school.”

After two years at an advertising agency, Eric ran away to sea as described in The Last Grain Race and then moved on to love and war, the Hindu Kush and so much more.

Simon Mulligan (1986-1991) began his musical career while still at St Paul’s, playing piano in a jazz band. He then became a concert pianist, in demand around the world but especially in the US. He moved to New York in 2003 and has lived there ever since.

MUSIC

On a Zoom call he tells Atrium that the last few years have brought some big changes to his life.

Sadly, he lost his mother just before the pandemic, and his father during it. ‘I was back and forth between New York and Kent the whole time, in eerily empty airports. In a way it was good that all my performances were cancelled, it meant that I could devote myself to seeing them.’ And he used lockdown as an opportunity to livestream nightly salons – every night for 400 nights in a row – ‘I hope it cheered people up a bit, at a time when lots of people were becoming gloomy and cantankerous – I tried to offer some musical balm. Also, it gave me a chance to catalogue all my sheet music that I’ve acquired over the years.’ He also got engaged to his long-term partner Jackie and bought a house with her – ‘it’s been a pretty eventful period.’

Like all cities, New York was badly hit by the pandemic, with some people wondering if it would ever fully recover its old vitality.

But it certainly has, Simon assures us: ‘It’s lovely to see it all blossoming again.’ So, we asked for his top tips.

Sadly a few jazz cubs closed during the pandemic. My old haunt Cornelia St Café has gone, which feels like the end of an era. It was set up by Robin Hirsch (1956-61), so it felt like a real home from home. But the doom and gloom shouldn’t be overstated. There are still loads of bars with live music. I’ve just formed a new jazz trio, and we’ve been playing in a very cool bar on the Lower East Side called Nu Blu – it’s a fantastic space to play. And Village Vanguard is still going strong, it’s the heart of the whole jazz scene. And Birdland, once the home of Charlie Parker, is really thriving, they’ve just built a second stage, which is more like a theatre – they do three shows a night. And Blue Note in the West Village is still a great place – I saw the guitarist Al Di Meola there the other day. The music goes on! In fact, there’s a new sense of people really appreciating live music – a bit like the revival of vinyl.

EATING

In some ways, the restaurant scene is livelier than ever after COVID – lots of restaurants put seating out on the street and it’s stayed there. In fact, it’s a mixed blessing – you might find yourself dining right next to the traffic.

One of my regular performance venues over the years has been Steinway Hall, home of the famous pianos. It has never fully reopened since lockdown, but I’ve continued to work for them, doing some recordings (look out for my new Percy Grainger album). So, I know a few nice places to eat round there, on 6th Avenue. I’d recommend Un Deux Trois, on 123, West 44th street. It’s a classic French brasserie with a lovely family atmosphere, don’t miss the onion soup.

I recently discovered a nice fish restaurant called Lure, on Mercer Street in SoHo. They do a fantastic cocktail that was new to me, called The Last Word, made from a hundred-year-old recipe. Recently I took my son there, for his fifteenth birthday, and sitting at the next table was Alex Rodriguez, the baseball star, who is a sight to see in real life. Well, my son is sports mad, so I said, oh yes, I arranged that. It’s the sort of thing that happens a lot in New York, those chance sightings –and SoHo especially.

MUSEUMS

The Met is great but it’s quite an undertaking, you feel you should spend all day there. I prefer smaller museums and galleries where you feel you’ve seen the whole thing on one visit, and my favourite is the Morgan Library on Madison Avenue. It was the home of the banker J.P. Morgan – he travelled the world buying up first editions and manuscripts, including many amazing musical manuscripts. I love those old rooms with huge high ceilings, and bookshelves lining the walls. There’s a great concert hall there – part of the extension built by Renzo Piano – and I give recitals there once in a while.

The Frick Collection is also the right sort of size for me. It’s another treasure-trove home of some old squillionaire. You can get to know the paintings, feel a bit at home there, and also feel you’re getting a glimpse of the old New York.

WALKING

I always walk around Manhattan it’s the best way to get around – I love noticing new things, seeing how it’s changing. Recently I saw that they were demolishing the old Hotel Pennsylvania, which I know from the old Glenn Miller song Pennsylvania 6-5000 – it was a huge jazz venue in the 20s and 30s. I found out that they were auctioning off some of the fixtures, and we managed to get a chandelier for our new house! We had to haggle them down a bit!

The High-Line is a great park if you can call it a park. It’s the old overground train line, converted into a walkway with lots of gardens and some art works. You get good views of the lower Westside, and over to New Jersey. Central Park’s OK, but I prefer the little parks and squares, tucked away, that you come upon by mistake. In fact, there’s one called Mulligan Park, named after some Irish policeman – that’s obviously my favourite! And the bigger ones like Herald Square are oases of calm amid the hubbub.

If you’ve got kids, the Central Park Zoo is brilliant – there’s a petting zoo that my son used to love. There’s also a new aquarium in Brooklyn. And Times Square is still a spectacle that young folk seem to like. And if you’re over in New Jersey, the Pinball Museum is great fun.

New York loves its festivals and parades. Hallowe’en is huge, especially in Greenwich Village, and also the family neighbourhoods of Brooklyn – everyone dresses up, the streets are full of crowds.

Macy’s Parade at Thanksgiving is a big event with floats and huge inflatables – but if you’re not so keen on huge crowds I have a good tip – you can go along the day before and see them preparing it all testing out the balloons – it’s like being behind the scenes. You also get that sense just by walking around at night – you see things getting delivered, and the horses and carts of Central Park going back to their stables on 12th Avenue. Also, strange one-off things. For example, I’m a Lego fan so I was lucky to see them installing the life-size X-Wing Starfighter in Times Square one night. There’s always something unusual going on. 

150th Anniversary Dinner

On Thursday 23 June, the 150th Anniversary Dinner was held at The Tabernacle, Notting Hill. The evening gave OPs of all ages the opportunity to socialise with old friends and new, celebrate 150 years of Pauline alumni engagement and raise funds for the OPC 150th Appeal.

The evening began with a drinks reception, at which guests enjoyed martinis made using Dima’s Ukrainian vodka (produced by Dima Deinega (2002-07)), whilst being entertained by jazz standards performed by The Greg Davis Trio

Over the evening, diners heard from the High Master and the OPC President, with further contributions from Jonathan Kydd (1967-72), MC, and Lizzie Holmes, soprano.

The 150th Appeal was the central focus of the evening and video testimonies were shown from bursary recipients, Tom Adeyoola (1990-95), Noah Zhou (2014-19) and Kiki Ajayi (2016-21), who shared their experience of the power of bursaries to change lives. The Appeal will run throughout Ed Vaizey’s presidency – until June 2023 – and will raise money for the school’s bursary fund. £80,000 was raised from the evening, and the OPC is incredibly grateful for the generosity of those who contributed to that total.

Old Pauline Club Vice Presidents

Five OPs have become Vice Presidents.

Tom Adeyoola (1990-95) is a School Governor. He is a technology entrepreneur, advisor and investor with 20 years’ experience in new media, disruptive technology and business strategy focused on positive society and climate related projects.

Neil Fitch (1955-60) has been the Hon Secretary of the Old Pauline Golf Society for the last 20 years. Without him the Society would not have survived and become the thriving body it is now. In earlier years he was involved with Old Pauline rugby and cricket.

Sir Simon Fraser (1971-75) is a former School Governor. He is a retired diplomat who served as the Permanent Under-Secretary of the Foreign and Commonwealth Office from August 2010 to July 2015, having served as Permanent Secretary of the Department for Business, Innovation and Skills from May 2009 to August 2010. He is currently Deputy Chairman of Chatham House and serves as Adviser to the Europe Programme. He is also Managing Partner of Flint Global.

Geoffrey Mathews (1972-77) is a Governor at St Paul’s Girls’ School and was a member of the OPC 150th Anniversary Committee. Geoffrey has worked in not-for-profit management for nearly thirty years, as Commercial Director for the National Gallery and The Prince of Wales’s Charities and as a Creative Director in the National Theatre and the Foreign Office Communications Department. He is currently CEO of the Chelsea Arts Club. In his early career he was a strategic consultant and an army officer. He was a Classics scholar at Trinity College, Cambridge.

Nog Norgren (1981-86) was chair of the OPC Governance Working Party in 2021. He was an elected member of the OPC Main Committee (from 2017 to 2021), is a member of the new Executive Committee as the 50s Decade representative. He trained and worked as a solicitor at Freshfields before moving on to in-house roles at Merrill Lynch and then a specialist finance company, ETV Capital. In 2011 he set up Norgren Legal. He has three OP sons.

Old Pauline Lodge

David Cons (1955-57) reports that the Old Pauline Lodge met for its second meeting of the year in the Montgomery Room at the School on the 23 March.

This year’s Master, Rabbi Zvi Solomons (1981-85) took the chair for his final time as Master and installed his successor Nigel Codron (1969-73). Zvi was appointed Lodge Secretary taking over from Nigel Young (1964-68) who completed twelve years as Secretary.

At the meeting a new member, Paul Baksh (1982-85) was admitted and initiated. The meeting was very well attended with several visitors from other school lodges. After the meeting we enjoyed dinner in the Milton Room. There are 32 Public School lodges meeting in London and every year one of them hosts a Public School Lodges Festival at their School to which members of the other Schools are invited with partners. Last year, Cheltenham College hosted the festival and in June this year Ardingly School in Sussex will be host.

The OP Lodge has four meetings a year at Barnes with the kind permission of the School and is exclusively for OPs and members of staff. The Lodge was founded in 1919 to encourage friendship between Old Paulines of different vintages and over 100 years later is still admirably fulfilling this remit, as well as raising funds for the benefit of the School and Paulines.

If any OP is interested to have more information or a meeting he should contact our secretary Zvi Solomons: secretary@oldpaulinelodge.org.uk

The Pauline Memory Project

At the Earliest Vintage Lunch held on 31 March, Ginny Dawe-Woodings then the OPC Archivist launched The Pauline Memory Project.

Approaching 100 OPs attended the EVL all of whom spent part of their time at School during the 1950s and 1960s. While the war years at Crowthorne are well documented, there is a shortage of memories from the final two decades at the Hammersmith site.

The Pauline Memory Project seeks to capture and record the personal, student, and ephemeral history of life at St Paul’s School. While the archives of both the School and the Old Pauline Club reflect both the professional and organisational memory of the institution, there is a paucity of personal, ephemeral, and ‘un-official’ memory.

This project will populate these gaps with memories sourced from the alumni community as a way of adding to the history of the School.

Once the 1950s and 1960s are covered the intention is to move on to the 1970s and so on. The Pauline Memory Project, once it has started, will be an ongoing project collecting the memories of Old Paulines. If you would like to take part, please send your name, dates of attendance and contact details to: Archivist@stpaulsschool.org.uk

Old Pauline Club

President

The Rt Hon the Lord Vaizey of Didcot

Past Presidents

C D L Hogbin, C J W Madge, F W Neate, Sir Alexander Graham GBE DCL, R C Cunis, Professor the Rt Hon the Lord McColl of Dulwich, The Rt Hon the Lord Baker of Dorking CH, J M Dennis, J H M East, Sir Nigel Thompson KCMG CBE, R J Smith, B M Jones

Vice Presidents

Professor D S H Abulafia, T M Adeyoola, Rt Revd R W B Atkinson OBE, Professor M D Bailey, P R A Baker, R S Baldock, S C H Bishop, J R Blair CBE, Sir David Brewer CMG, CVO, N St J Brooks, R D Burton, W M A Carroll, Professor P A Cartledge, M A Colato, R K Compton, T J D Cunis, A C Day, S J Dennis MBE, Sir Lloyd Dorfman CVO, CBE, C R Dring, C G Duckworth, A R Duncan, J A H Ellis, R A Engel, D H P Etherton, The Rt Hon the Lord Etherton of Marylebone PC, Sir Brian Fall GCVO KCMG, N J Fitch, Sir Simon Fraser CMG, KCMG, GCMG, B R Girvan, The Rt Hon the Lord Godson of Thorney Island, T J R Goode, D J GordonSmith, Lt Gen Sir Peter Graham KCB CBE, The Rt Hon the Lord Greenhalgh of Fulham, Professor F D M Haldane, S R Harding, R J G Holman, J A Howard, S A Hyman, S D Kerrigan, P J King, T G Knight, J W S Lyons, I C MacDougall, G C Matthews, Professor C P Mayer CBE, R G McIntosh, A R M McLean CLH, I C McNicol, J D Morgan, A K Nigam, N H Norgren, The Rt Hon George Osborne, Sir Mene Pangalos FRS, T B Peters, D M Porteus, R M Rayner, The Rt Hon the Lord Razzall of Mortlake CBE, The Rt Hon the Lord Renwick of Clifton KCMG, A M Rind CVO, B M Roberts, J M Robertson, J E Rolfe, M K Seigel, J Sherjan, J C F Simpson CBE, D R Snow MBE, S Strauss, A G Summers, R Summers, J L Thorn, R Ticciati OBE, Sir Mark Walport FRS, Professor the Lord Winston of Hammersmith, J Withers Green

Executive Committee

Ed Vaizey (President & Chairman of the Committee), Jeremy Withers Green (Deputy President), Sam Turner (Secretary), Nick Brooks (Treasurer), James Grant (40s Decade), Sam Hyman (Co-Opted, Surveyor), Brian Jones (Co-Opted, Strategy), Elizabeth Monro-Davies (Parent), Nog Norgren (50s Decade), Ali Palmer (Governor), Rishi Patel-Warr (20s Decade), Jehan Sherjan (Thames Ditton), Ellie Sleeman (Development), Simon Strauss (Overseas), Nick Troen (Staff and AROPS), Jack Turner (Sports), Neil Wates (30s Decade),

Nominations Committee

Ed Vaizey (Chairman), John Dennis, Brian Jones, Peter King

Strategy Implementation Committee

Brian Jones (Chairman), Nick Brooks, Michael Colato, Simon Hardy

Sports Committee

Jack Turner (Chairman), Rob Rayner, Jehan Sherjan, Nick Troen

Advisory Council

Chairman John East

David Abulafia, Richard Atkinson, Peter Baker, Simon Bishop, Jon Blair, Paul Cartledge, Michael Colato, Ross Compton, Richard Cunis, Tim Cunis, Alan Day, John Dennis, Charles Duckworth, John Ellis, Robert Engel, Brian Fall, Simon Fraser, Dean Godson, Mike Graham, Stephen Greenhalgh, Richard Holman, Peter King, Charles Madge, Alan McLean, Jon Morgan, Francis Neate, Robert Rayner, Tim Razzall, James Rolfe, Mike Seigel, Rob Smith, Nigel Thompson

Archivist

Kelly Strickland

Accountants

Kreston Reeves LLP

Trustee

OPC Trustee Company Limited

OLD PAULINE GOLFING SOCIETY

Neil Fitch (1955-60) reports that after two years of some cancellations, it is good to be back to a normal year of OP Golf.

We have so far this year had wins against The School, KCS OBs & Old Amplefordians, halved against Old Uppinghamians and lost to Old Lawrentians. Mike Rowley won the Kayton Vase at our 2-night stay at the Wiltshire.

In the Halford Hewitt, Hugh Roberts (1969-74) and his team of Alessandro (2010-12) and Tito Bastianello (2009-11), Robin Young (1975-79), Robbie Parker (2004-09), Max Rose (2004-09), Charlie Dewhurst (2003-08), Charlie Prior (1995-2000), Ian Bailey (1974-78) and James Seddon (1977-82), had a good 1st round win against Forest by 4-1. In the 2nd round they came up against a very strong Charterhouse team and lost 1/2 –41/2

In the Grafton Morrish qualifier at Royal Wimbledon, our team of Max Rose, Charlie Prior, Robbie Lyon (2007-12), James Seddon, Ian Bailey and Hugh Roberts, came 8th out of 16 and did not qualify for the finals in October.

In the Putting Competition at Royal Wimbledon, Chris Vallender (1960-64) and his team of Tito Bastianello, James Seddon and Charlie Prior came 5th, unable to repeat winning the Competition as they did last year.

In the Alba Trophy at Woking, our team of Charlie Prior and Robbie Parker came 12th out of 26.

In the Cyril Gray (over 50s) our team of Nick Cardoza (1983-88), Robin Young, David Clark, Charles Mathias (1974-79), Ian Bailey and James Seddon, lost in the 1st round to Blundells 2-1. Blundells went on to win the competition. In the 1st round of the plate, we lost 2-1 to Wellingborough. However, in the Seniors (over 70s) held on the Saturday, Jeremy Williams (1966-70) and Chris Vallender won.

In our Spring Meeting at Betchworth Park in May, 15 members played. David Charman (1962-67) and John Woodcock (1963-68) both had 36 points in the morning, with David winning the Just Cup on countback. John won the Goldman salver for the best score by a player off 15 and over handicap and Alastair Grant (1993-98) had the best gross score to win the Haswell Bowl. The afternoon play was won by Robert Silverstone (1964-68) and Dick Vollmer (1953-57). In the Summer Meeting at Hayling in July, 17 members played. In the morning play, 5 players had the same points score of 37. On a countback, Chris Vallender had the best score to win the Mercers Cup. Ian Bailey won the Sayers Cup with a gross 76. In the afternoon greensomes, David Pincott (1971-75) and David Charman won the Summer Meeting tankards. Our Autumn Meeting and David Pincott’s Captain’s Day will be held at High Post in September and our Winter Meeting at West Hill in November. Our AGM/Annual Dinner will be at Royal Mid Surrey in early December. Golfers wishing to join the Society should contact Neil Fitch, email: n.fitch@ntlworld.com

OLD PAULINE CRICKET CLUB

After several seasons of sustained growth, including promotions for both the 1st XI and 2nd XI, during the offseason the Old Pauline Cricket Club decided to re-instate a 3rd XI.

Having stopped running a 3rd XI back in 2012, Henry Dodd (2001-06) nobly took on the leadership role for the new side. One of the season’s aims has been to grow the OPCC player base and have more Old Paulines involved in the club with 47 OPs already having represented the club with 4 games still to play. This includes 22 OPs under the age of 25.

Both the 1st and 2nd XI have again competed in the Surrey Division 4 1st XI and 2nd XI leagues while the 3rd XI has entered the Division 6 West league. All three teams have greatly enjoyed the brilliant playing and social facilities at Colets this summer and the standard of cricket played across all three sides has been exceptional, with several standout victories. The 1st XI beat table-topping Horsley and Send CC, whose side included an active Zimbabwean test player and a recently retired county cricketer. A brilliant 75 from Richard Hay (2004-09) set up a total of 216 and Upneet Arora’s 5-33 stalled Horsley’s reply and set up a famous victory. Newcomer Johnnie Benson has impressed with the ball throughout the season and his match-winning 6-37 against Churt CC brought home a valuable 24 points for the 1st XI.

In the 2nd XI early season wins were followed by a slightly disappointing mid-season, coinciding with the change from overs to timed cricket, but wins against table topping local rival Thames Ditton CC and Addiscombe CC in recent weeks have lifted them back up the table. Stand out performances include an unbeaten 110* for Ben Turner (2012-17) and 100* for Tom Speller (2006-2011) in consecutive games. Yas Rana (2009-14) leads the bowling statistics for the league with 17 scalps at an impressive average of just 16.

For the 3rd XI, the side has generally been a mixture of newly recruited youth and formerly retired OP stalwarts. Club chairman, Tom Peters (1989–94) has rolled back the years to once again pile on the runs but is being challenged for top scorer by Oscar Jefferson (2010-15) who has reeled off two scores of over 50 this season including an impressive 70 off 62 balls in a win against Esher CC. With the ball, skipper Henry Dodd leads the wicket takers with 18 including a 5-fer on the opening day of the season against Old Kingstonians.

If you would like to become involved with the Old Pauline Cricket Club, please reach out to Chris Berkett: berkettc@ gmail.com. The season runs from April to September with social events and winter training throughout the off season.

OLD PAULINE ASSOCIATION FOOTBALL CLUB

The OPAFC is excited to continue building on the success of recent years as it enters its 30th anniversary season. We would welcome recent leavers and graduates to become involved and look forward to working more closely with the School to support the lifelong SPS journey.

The 1st XI is coming into the new season with momentum and a squad with recent additions, having missed out on promotion by one place, but with an all-important trophy in the cabinet. This season promotion is the optimistic aim. Stay tuned for an exciting season, the squad is on the up and looking forward to the possibility of a harder challenge in seasons to come!

After the success of the COVID football season the 2nd XI found itself on the receiving end of double promotion, moving up to the giddy heights of 3 South. After an initial acclimatisation period as the squad was rejigged, the team began the slow climb up the table, finally finishing 4th. Due to restructuring, it finds itself in 2 South for the 2022/23 Season. With the squad bolstered over the summer period – and whisper it quietly – but there is hope that a title challenge can be mounted coupled with a cup run. Any trophy will result in a repeat of the 2020/21 end of season bus tour – a day for the ages.

In a successful first season back for the 3rd XI, the team has gone from strength to strength. With a significant recruitment and support from the teams above, the 3rd XI quickly moved beyond its initial ambition of simply fielding 11 players each week and has become a fully-fledged 20-man squad. Having not played together before the team more than held its own in the league, finishing in a respectable mid-table position and competing in two cup competitions. The aims for next season are to increase the number of Old Paulines playing each week and to move up the table towards promotion.

The OPAFC Vets entered two Champions League format cup competitions this season. And indeed, the Champions League comparison held true. The Vets – elegant footballers to a man, if perhaps a yard short of the pace of their youth – played total football as they progressed rapidly through the rounds, reaching as far as the semi-final in the Sunday Cup. Next season they look to progress even further.

PAULINE CONTINUUM CYCLING

Pauline Continuum Cycling began last September with a successful launch event at school with huge backing from Hugh Roberts (1969-74), Sweetspot and The Tour of Britain.

Since then, we have had some social rides to Windsor, Richmond Park and Box Hill featuring OPs, staff and parents. From September we are planning to do more regular (ability grouped) rides from school utilising Richmond Park, online group "Zwift" rides in the Winter around a few larger events for charity.

The first of these takes place on Sunday 11th September in support of Mary's Meals. Mary’s Meals serves nutritious school meals to children living in some of the world’s poorest countries. The promise of a good meal attracts these hungry children into the classroom, giving them the energy to learn and hope for a better future. 6 PCC members will travel to the Isle of Wight and ride the Tour of Britain final stage course on closed roads with former professional cyclist, Dan Martin, before watching the end of the professional race. We still have a small number of places so, if you want to ride, get in touch. We will soon be releasing a small batch of cycling jerseys, price TBC.

To become involved, follow Pauline Continuum Cycling on Strava and Instagram or email Luke Warriner: ldw@stpaulsschool.org.uk

OLD PAULINE FOOTBALL CLUB

Overseen by Club Captain Rob Rayner (1999-04), a successful season on and off the field saw promotion for our 1st XV, a cup final for the Vets ‘B XV’, and a general increase in playing numbers across the club that led to the fulfilment of regular 2nd XV fixtures.

With the 1st XV playing in ‘Surrey 4’, we faced regular foes in Streatham and Croydon, Harlequin Amateurs and Old Hamptonians – finishing second in the league and gaining promotion. Only three games were lost all season with a particular highlight being a convincing win against Harlequins.

Consistency in selection was a major factor. A strong player base has emerged, setting the club up well for the 2022/23 season. Underpinned by the arrival of the likes of Tom and James Elway, Theo Moreland and James Evans, we can again look forward to challenging for a promotion place in our new league. With strength in depth (and hopefully a few selection headaches), the playing side of the club is in rude health, boding well for the future. The hope now is that we can continue to increase the number of players available each week by welcoming more current and future Old Paulines into the fold.

Off the pitch, the social side of the club has also bounced back strongly from the uncertainties brought about by ‘lockdown’ with the club able to honour our commitment to raise £5,000 for the Atlas Foundation despite the cancellation of our tour to South Africa. Underpinning the true values of the club, there is a fantastic bond between players with events such as the club ‘Nativity’, various ‘themed’ nights out taking place across the season, including the 1st Team’s promotion dinner.

This was no more evident than at the club’s 150th Anniversary Dinner in March. Hosted at ‘The Home of Rugby’ to celebrate 150 years since becoming one of the founding members of the RFU, Old Pauline players past and present reunited to regale in former glories –stories of last-ditch tackles and long-standing injuries going late into the night. Attended by RFU President Jeff Blackett and Surrey Rugby representatives, the rich heritage of the club was on display throughout. A huge thanks to the organisation committee led by Rob Rayner, to make this such a memorable occasion, particularly with added complexity of COVID.

In Memoriam

John S Beastall (1954-59)

John Bienenstock CM (1950-54)

Robert C Blalack (1965-66)

Peter G Boswell (1941-45)

Anthony R Boswood (1961-65)

Richard G W Codd (1955-61)

Christopher P Curwen (1955-60)

Robert C Davie (1945-51)

Alec M (Mike) Davis (Rugby Coach, 1969-74)

Roger L Earl (1954-57)

Malcolm D Hillier (1949-55)

William N J (Billy) Howard (Headmaster of Colet Court, 1973-92)

David H P Jackson (1950-54)

Sunil (Skip) Kapadia (1992-97)

Brenda King (School House Matron, 1990-2002)

Sydney A Levinson (1967-72)

Frank G (Gordon) Maunder (1948-54)

John M MacDougall (1945-50)

Robin J L (Jeremy) McCowen (1951-56)

Christopher V Middleton (1967-71)

Jonathan A Miller (1949-54)

Peter L Oettinger OBE (1935-38)

Richard E Palk (1955-60)

Martin L Rantzen (1949-55)

Nicholas A M Shenton (1957-63)

Robert J Strawson (1958-62)

Francis P (Peter) Wiggins (Colet Court, 1945-47)

Nicholas P Windsor (1989-94)

Lawrence Young (1944-50)

Charles Abrams (1965-69)

Charles Abrams was cited in Hansard as having ‘performed a significant act of public service’, through his dedication to perfecting the Financial Services and Markets Act.

A year younger than his contemporaries, Charles’s time at both Colet Court and St Paul’s was marked by a quiet confidence, which shone in his passion for Ancient History and Latin. The friendships he forged enriched his whole life. His exquisite intelligence was rewarded with a place to read history for law at Trinity College, Cambridge, where he became a Scholar. At Cambridge, he was consistently inspired by the brilliant minds around him. Academia was a significant focus of Charles’s life, with an emphasis placed on detail and perfection.

Charles won a position at the solicitors Linklaters & Paines in New York, before joining SJ Berwin. He became a partner in 1988, founding and leading its financial services practice. Charles’s mind became renowned, and he co-wrote the definitive guide to the pivotal legislation. In the aftermath of The Big Bang, he worked to prioritise the consideration of intent and ensured that enough checks were placed in the Code of Market Conduct. His impact inspired the EU’s Market Abuse Directive. Charles advised the Conservative Party, gaining recognition for ‘his remarkable grasp of the Act’, which ‘played a major part in shaping the [Conservative Party’s] approach’ to the legislation.

Marrying Georgia in 1987, he imbued his children, Alexandra and Boris, with his inherent values. He shaped their upbringing with a mix of consistent love and education, ensuring that they placed equal importance on morality and the correct use of a comma.

He inspired his contemporaries with his dedication to winning both his personal battles and professional, and achieved vast influence whilst combatting Multiple Sclerosis. He wrote significant letters and books, including the Guide to Financial Services Regulation. Always with a wry smile and dry wit, he never ceased to amaze and lead change.

Alexandra Abrams, Daughter

John S Beastall (1954-59)

John ‘Tub’ Beastall, who died in June, was a decorated Civil Servant who was best known in the Pauline community as one of the leaders of the Pauline Meetings. He ran the Ealing Meeting for some 40 years and the affection in which he was held by generations of Paulines was evident in the large numbers who attended his funeral.

Tub joined the Christian Union while a pupil at St Paul’s and served as an ‘officer’ from the early 1960s to his retirement in 2004. He was ever present at House Parties, Sunday meetings and all the Meetings’ activities. Tub’s life was underpinned by his personal faith and he involved himself in the life of all the churches he attended.

He joined St Paul’s in 1954 on a scholarship from Colet Court and enjoyed a distinguished school career. He was hooker in the 1st XV, a prefect and captain of G Club and addressed the Queen in Latin as part of the school’s 450th anniversary celebrations.

He won an Exhibition to Balliol College, Oxford, where he continued his classics studies and his rugby. From university, he went straight into the Treasury. He was PPS to Chancellor Jim Callaghan and worked on a range of policy issues. He was awarded a CB in the Queen’s Birthday Honours List in 1995 in recognition of his outstanding career of public service.

He took early retirement in the late 1990s and became the school’s first Development Director, starting the campaign of fund raising for bursaries.

He was Chair of Governors of the Green School for Girls in Isleworth and a director of Feltham Community Chaplaincy Trust.

He continued his rugby career after university, captaining the Old Pauline 1st XV. When he gave up playing he refereed at Thames Ditton for many years.

His commitment to the St Paul’s community was recognised in his becoming a Vice President of both the Old Pauline Club and the OPFC and he was delighted to attend the rugby club’s 150th anniversary dinner at Twickenham Stadium in March.

John Howard (1971-75)

Anthony (Tony) E W Dux (1966-71)

Born on the 18th December 1952, Anthony started at Colet Court as a scholar in 1960 and was part of the cohort of pupils that moved with the school from Hammersmith to its current location. He started at St Paul’s in 1966, leaving in 1971 to study medicine at the Royal Free, following in his mother’s footsteps.

He qualified as a medical doctor in 1977and went on to specialise initially in paediatrics before focusing his specialisation on radiology. His first Consultant position in Radiology was at Peterborough before he eventually moved to Leicester, where he was able to combine his interest in paediatric medicine with radiology. His passion for medicine never left him and, even after his retirement from the NHS at 60, he continued working notwithstanding his failing health.

Sadly, his final years were blighted by illness and yet he remained interested in current affairs, music, the arts and rugby union – particularly Leicester Tigers. His passion for good food and wine was legendary.

Tony was someone of huge intellect. He was blessed with a phenomenal memory which never deserted him. He was a hugely popular figure both at work and in his local community.

He was married to his wife Sally for over 40 years and they had two children, Emma and Marcus. He also leaves behind three grandchildren and two sisters. He will be greatly missed by us all. Liz Dux, Sister

Alexander R R Eason (1943-47)

Alexander (Alec) Eason was born in Poona, India in 1929 and came to England at the age of two. During WWII he was evacuated to his grandparents’ home in Auchterarder, and later attended St Paul’s School in Crowthorne during the war. Alec truly valued his education and his housemaster, Mr Cook, was a huge influence in his life. He completed his national service before proceeding to St Andrews to study medicine. He excelled at sport, playing rugby for Scottish Exiles, St Paul’s 1st XV and captained the St Andrews 1st XV and Scotland B Team.

After graduation, Alec held house positions at the Southern General Hospital and the Royal Maternity Hospital in Glasgow, where he became expert in exchange-transfusions of new-borns. He also joined the Territorial Army as a Medical Officer. In 1960, he married Catherine Wilson, a nurse, with whom he enjoyed over sixty years of marriage. They spent two years in the Yorkshire Dales, where Alec worked as a GP, before he established himself in general-practice in Kirkintilloch for the remainder of his career.

Alec was an exceptional doctor; each day before his morning clinic he conducted rounds, supervising the care of the chronic young who became long-term and elderly patients; he showed great care and empathy in his practice, conducted housecalls at all hours, and also supported his patients in dealing with the local authorities. His greatest joy was delivering babies at home, and then taking medical care of these children as they grew. Many young doctors trained with Alec and his knowledge, wide experience and common sense made a huge impact on them.

Alec loved gardening and restoring their holiday home on the Isle of Arran. In his retirement he took painting classes at the Glasgow School of Art. Alec was an extremely generous, highly principled doctor who provided the highest quality of care to generations of Kirkintilloch citizens and surrounding areas. A much-loved family man, he is survived by Cath, his children Fiona, Craig, and Alistair and seven grandchildren. Eason and McDougall family contributions

Malcolm’s life was one of creativity and joy which he instilled in everything he accomplished so effortlessly.

Born in Somerset, he spent his early life in Richmond, Surrey. Aged 11, he began acting in the long-running BBC radio serial, ‘Jennings at School’, in which he played Jennings. In his teenage years, he acted in numerous Shakespeare productions.

At St Paul’s, he eschewed the then popular boxing curriculum to train as a pianist and entered the Guildhall School of Music to achieve distinction and concert pianist standard. A talented lyricist, he wrote (with the Hollywood film composer, John Scott) librettos for opera, pop songs, advertising slogans and television programmes, such as the much-lauded Jacques Cousteau series.

At that time, he entered advertising as head of television for the prestigious firm, Benson’s; he commissioned films from such later famed directors as Ridley Scott, Hugh Hudson and Ken Russell.

He then changed direction and established a garden design and florist business. He created gardens in London, the countryside (in Dorset he built the largest maze in Britain: 2½ miles of box hedging), the Caribbean and south of France. He started writing books, first on dried flowers (it sold a million copies and has never been out of print) and eventually sold over four million books worldwide, which were translated into over ten languages.

Latterly, he wrote cookery books and lectured in America and the UK as well as entertaining weekly at his Chelsea homes (first Turner’s house then Whistler’s , Cheyne Walk), where he established a world-famous garden. He also bought a mountain in the Caribbean where he gardened, made furniture, wrote poetry and photographed the flora and fauna, leading to successful exhibitions in London and New York. He was an accomplished ceramicist and devised his own glazes.

He passed away peacefully aged 85 at his riverside home in Kew and is survived by his partner of thirty years, Rodney Engen.

Rodney Engen

Malcolm Dudley Hillier (1949-55)

William (Billy) N J Howard

Headmaster, Colet Court 1973-1992

Billy Howard, one of Colet Court's longest serving Headmasters, has died aged 89. Mr Howard took up his post in April 1973, just a few years after the school moved to its current home in Barnes. The new site was still something of a "work in progress", modern buildings, but no science labs for Coletines and pupils still being bussed to Osterley for their sports activities as the grounds were not yet finished. By the time of his retirement in 1992 there was a new science building and sports were played on site.

Educated at Winchester and New College Oxford, Mr Howard went straight into teaching and was already a headmaster of a typical rural prep school by the age of 28. Taking on such an outstanding and much bigger, urban school was a very different proposition but one that he and his wife, Liz, felt ready for.

Colet Court was already a centre of excellence, not only academically but also in the wider areas of music, drama and sport. What Mr Howard brought to the school was an energetic, somewhat less stuffy, hands-on approach. Quickly getting to know the boys, the staff and the much more pro-active and ambitious cohort of parents was key. He was omnipresent, dropping in on lessons unannounced to observe teaching, eating lunch in the canteen with the boys, teaching scripture to the younger forms and, with Liz by his side, standing on the touchlines of matches and always available to greet parents at concerts, plays and other school events.

He served on the committee of IAPS and took his wealth of experience into retirement as an inspector and Governor of several schools, some run by excolleagues. Retiring to the New Forest allowed more time to pursue his other interests, primarily sailing and gardening. He continued to take an immense interest in the lives and progress of all of his former pupils and staff.

Anna Gualtieri, Daughter and Old Paulina

David H P Jackson (1950-54)

Dad was born in Norfolk in 1937. After the war, the family moved to London. He was awarded a scholarship to St Paul's School and was confirmed in the crypt at St Paul's Cathedral. At St Paul's, he learnt to play the violin, developed his love of classical music, and joined the school’s Boy Scout Troop. After school, Dad completed his National Service in the Army and then studied Electrical Engineering at London University. He was involved extensively in designing radar installations.

In 1964, he and Mum, Lynda Mogford, met while out riding. In due course they married and, in 1968, moved to South Africa, where Dad first worked for Fuchs Electronics and then at the Chamber of Mines of South Africa.

My brother, Lester, and I were born and raised in South Africa and, since Dad had been a Boy Scout and Mum a Girl Guide, we joined the Cubs and later the Scouts. This was to become the overriding passion and family activity throughout our youth. Dad was in his element, drawing on his own experiences to help us with our advancements.

As we grew up, he taught us about attention to detail and the importance of proper communication and treating people politely, with dignity and respect.

In 1997, Dad retired as an Assistant Director of the Chamber of Mines. He and Mum moved to Hilton, KwaZulu-Natal to enjoy the climate and the countryside. He enjoyed nature and the outdoors, and loved animals. Dad was an avid photographer from the age of 15; his passion was evident by the scattering of classic cameras all around the house. He also loved reading, with a particular fondness for historical, factual and technical books.

Dad will be remembered as a loving, caring and compassionate person who always wanted the best for his family. We thank him for what he has done for our families and we celebrate a life well lived.

Paul Jackson

Brenda King Matron, School House 1990-2002

Brenda was appointed Matron of School House by Ben Taylor in 1990, her two previous appointments having been at The Royal School, Haslemere and Kings Bruton, Somerset.

When Jane and I took over the House in 1992, Brenda was a tower of strength and her experience invaluable in helping us to settle in. She knew and understood the boys, and could always advise on “the right thing” to do. Her wisdom, good humour and experience were invariably helpful on so many matters.

She had the respect of the boys and all the House staff. She handled, sometimes challenging, situations with a firm grasp, a perceptive twinkle and always with total honesty and integrity.

She regularly went above and beyond the call of duty. Douglas Cairns, our first House Tutor, recalls that Brenda, unhappy with aspects of the external laundry service, washed and ironed some 50 pillow cases a week for the boys.

Jet, her lovely black Labrador, was her constant companion and an important member of the House.

Brenda loved cooking and enjoyed visiting exclusive cookery shops all over London to buy ingredients for our splendid termly House staff dinners. She set a high bar and the dinner parties became increasingly sophisticated.

All of the staff and boys owe Brenda a tremendous amount for the immeasurable and unstinting help that she gave us all.

She retired to Somerset in 2002 at the age of 70 but, sadly, developed dementia and lived out her final years in a care home.

Gordon Miller

John M MacDougall (1945-50)

John was born in Harrow, to Donald MacDougall, a banker and former officer of the Seaforth Highlanders and Dr Christine MacRae MacDougall. John and his sister Zeller (who attended St Paul’s Girls’ School) were evacuated to their grandparents in Scotland in 1940 and attended a local primary school there. My father remembered getting sent home early one day as the mine destroyer HMS Port Napier had caught fire, eventually exploding in the nearby loch. The remains can still be seen at low tide to this day.

Returning to London, a life-long passion of sport developed at St Paul’s. John loved rugby, rowing, boxing and cricket. A prize-winning oar from Henley is still in the family possession. After St Paul’s, a stint of National Service was required before starting a course in medicine. This was not to be his profession, though, and eventually John trained as an accountant. He was a member of the London Scottish Rugby Club – player and enthusiastic supporter – and also attended various Caledonian Societies in London. It was here that he met his future wife, Anne.

In the early 1980s he returned to his grandfather’s house in Scotland to live, bringing his wife and children, and set up his own business. He was an active member of the community and was treasurer for many local clubs and the local Free Church. He was instrumental in raising funds for the Kinlochshiel Shinty Club, enabling the purchase and development of a new pitch. This culminated in 2021 with the club winning the Camanachd and MacTavish cups.

Although ill health hampered him latterly, he was still a keen follower of sport on television and loved to hear how his grandchildren were getting on in their chosen careers. He passed away December 2021 with family by his side, just short of his 90th birthday.

He was married to Anne for 60 years and is survived by her, his sons Donald and Sandy, daughter Eleanor and five grandchildren.

Eleanor Gallacher

Frank G (Gordon) Maunder (1948-54)

Gordon Maunder was born in Hong Kong in 1935. From the ages of six to ten, he was imprisoned in Camp Stanley together with his mother and two younger brothers.

Following their release, he went to St Paul’s School as a boarder and became Captain of School. He played rugby (1st XV Captain, 1951) and rowed to a high standard; he sustained a passion for both sports throughout his life.

After school, he served two years’ National Service in the British Army, training at Mons Officer Cadet School then serving in Hong Kong.

He then read history at Christ’s College, Cambridge. Here, he slept in John Milton’s room and discovered a passion for poetry. He went straight into the Christ’s 1st VIII and was Captain of Boats in 1958/59, the year the college won the Michell Cup.

He subsequently worked for Shell in Japan, where he learned to climb and ski, and learned fluent Japanese in a year. He joined the British Olympic coaching team as an interpreter at the Tokyo Olympics in 1964, and took part in the athletes’ parade.

Gordon then studied at London Business School and started a successful career as a consultant in London, eventually opening an office in Milan for Urwick, Orr and Partners. When they were bought out by Price Waterhouse, Gordon was made a Partner; his office eventually became the Mediterranean HQ for PW.

He travelled extensively and enjoyed skiing and climbing in the Lake District, Scotland and Austria, then Zermatt, where he met Suzanne who was to become his wife in 1970.

Gordon moved to Switzerland,started a family and built a house in the southern Alps. Following retirement, he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. Despite his condition, he enjoyed running and cross country skiing into a surprisingly old age and was in his garden every day.

He is survived by his wife of 52 years, Suzanne, daughter Frances, son Andrew, and granddaughter Eleni.

Gordon’s family and friends

Christopher Middleton (1967-71)

Chris Middleton will be fondly remembered by his contemporaries.

Chris grew up in Ealing. His elder brother Nigel was also a Pauline. Chris won a scholarship to St Paul’s, started in the Remove, and entered the Classics VIIIth Form. He was an active sportsman, a successful opening bowler, believed to have been the youngest ever member of the First XI. He also enjoyed music and drama, and successfully took the lead role in a school production of Zigger Zagger Chris was known among his contemporaries for his lively sense of humour, and his gift for witty insight and observation.

Chris won an Exhibition to Trinity College, Cambridge. Then he made his career as a freelance journalist, writing for many publications, in particular he spent over 25 years writing for the Daily Telegraph. His work included the “Modern Manners” column of social commentary (some published in his book “Behave”). Other regular subjects were travel and property. Chris was named Property Writer of the Year in the 2005 Press Awards.

Chris also co-wrote and co-performed comedy at the Edinburgh Festival, and helped to create a BBC children’s television series, Space Vets. His writing was done in his office in the garden shed at home in Wimbledon.

Chris married Sarah, an actress, and they have three children, Julia, Eleanor, and Charles, who speak appreciatively of Chris’ fatherly devotion.

One lifelong passion from boyhood was Brentford Football Club. Another was music, especially the guitar. Another was travel: Chris made several adventurous overland journeys with friends in the 70s and 80s.

Very sadly, Chris was diagnosed with fronto-temporal dementia in 2017, and this increasingly affected his last few years. He died on 20th April 2022.

Chris will be remembered as a friendly, lively, and inspiring presence for those around him, as someone who lived life to the full, and strove to enable others to do the same.

Chris’s family and friends

Peter J F Richardson (1948-50)

Peter was born on 5th January 1935.

Peter started his education at the Mall in Twickenham, where he excelled at sport and became Head Boy. At 13 he joined St Paul’s and was there from 1948 to 1950.

Subsequently, Peter attended the London College of Printing and a visiting Director of Arnoldo Mondadori, a high end printing and publishing company, interviewed him offering him a job at their factory in Verona. This opportunity gave Peter a love of Italy, becoming fluent in the language and adapting happily to the lifestyle. He became immersed in the language and gestures, being often mistaken for an Italian.

In 1966 Peter was asked to open the London office of Mondadori in Bond Street. He was instrumental in getting many worthwhile clients: National Magazines, Reader’s Digest, the Mail on Sunday, etc. Peter met his wife, Carole, then, who had just returned from Florence and taken on the job of bilingual Secretary/PA; they worked together for 18 months before getting married!

Peter was head hunted a year later for Managing Director of Chapel River Press in Andover, where he worked before being offered the job of running Euroffset, an Association of printers from European and Scandinavian countries.

This entailed holding meetings in those countries, in rotation, to share the latest printing technology.

It was enjoyable and Peter remained good friends with several members.

Subsequently, Peter was head hunted for a managerial position at British Printing Corporation. He acted as a trouble shooter at each factory from Glasgow to Diss.

Having lived on the Thames from an early age, sailing was his life-long interest. Peter’s greatest pleasure was to go out in his boat with us all on board, including the dog! He doted on his granddaughter and taught her nautical knots at a very young age. He is sorely missed by his close family, wider family and friends.

Peter’s family

The Kraushar Brothers

Robert J Strawson (1958-62)

Robert attended St Paul’s School, where his father – JH Strawson – was Head of Science.

After Trinity College, Oxford where he was one of the first graduates in metallurgy and material science, Robert travelled to Uganda and completed a post-graduate Diploma of Education under the British Government Teachers for East Africa scheme, at Makerere University College of East Africa. He then taught at the University Demonstration School, followed by St Leo’s College in Fort Portal, and finally, he lectured at the National Teachers’ College in Kampala.

In late 1972, by now a husband and father and tired of living under Idi Amin’s diktats, he returned with his family to the UK. He taught at Malvern College for 8 years, followed by Cranleigh School for 4 years. He was then made an offer to teach physics at Peterhouse, Zimbabwe, a multi-racial independent school. After almost 5 years at Peterhouse, he returned to teach at Abingdon School. At Abingdon, he was Head of a happy and harmonious Physics Department, masterminded the use of audio-visual equipment and organised the theatre stage crew, was a member of the academic committee and took an active part in many other aspects of school life.

Following retirement, he was a busy member of several University of the Third Age interest groups and of Abingdon Silversmiths. He was a valued member of the Institute of Physics Education Board, a reviewer for Physics Education magazine and a Teacher’s Network coordinator. He was also a keen and well-travelled motor homer and an enthusiastic gardener.

Tributes received for Robert emphasise his wide intellectual interests, encyclopaedic knowledge and high standards: he was ‘a scholar and a gentleman’ and a true scientist. He had sound common sense, shrewd character judgement and was an unstinting hard worker. His constant quest for knowledge on all subjects and his ability to retain and use that knowledge was remarkable and was of benefit to the generations of young men he taught. Robert contributed in so many ways to the communities in which he lived, as a caring neighbour and an enthusiastic, hard-working teacher. His sudden and unexpected death was a shock to all and he will be much missed.

Robert’s family, friends and colleagues

Peter (1947-53) and Chris (1953-58) tell their story

Part 1: Journey to St Paul’s

The Russian invasion of Ukraine is a poignant time to recall our unusual journey towards becoming Pauline brothers.

This came about as a result of the unique triple act of escaping from the clutches of Hitler, Stalin and Mussolini.

In 1920 our father had fought against the Russians in the battle dubbed The Miracle of the Vistula, when the Polish army surprisingly defeated the Bolsheviks and stopped their attempted conquest of Europe via Berlin. He was wounded by an (illegal) Russian dumdum and died of his wounds 27 years later – if only there had been penicillin then! That he survived at all was thanks to his doctor father. Our grandfather qualified in Kiev at a time when both Poland and Ukraine had been absorbed into Russia. When Russia went to war against Japan in 1904, he was conscripted as a Colonel in the Imperial Russian Army to run their military field hospital in Vladivostok, where he learned to treat battlefield wounds and so later saved his son’s life.

In September 1939 our parents, our mother pregnant with Chris, escorted part of the Bank of Poland gold reserves being sent to London as far as the Romanian border. They intended to return to Warsaw, where they had left Peter with our grandmother, but the Soviet invasion made that impossible. They travelled on via Bucharest to Milan, where Chris was born. Remarkably they managed to get Peter to Milan.

The Italian consul in Warsaw helped by giving a 17-year-old girl a permit to travel to Milan on condition that she took a 5-year-old boy, so he travelled for 3 days with an unknown young girl, to find our parents in Milan together with a newly born brother. When Italy entered the war, we went into hiding in the remote Tuscan countryside until 1944. Our cover was compromised when one night our next-door neighbour appeared, drunk and brandishing a German rifle, claiming he had just killed a German soldier; usually that meant 200 nearest families would be executed. So, we set off to walk to Florence, 50 kms away, but were stopped by a German army unit. An officer checked our father’s fake Italian ID for ages but seemed satisfied – otherwise we would have been shot. We were in Florence when it was liberated by the Eighth Army, including the 2nd Polish Corps formed from some of the prisoners released from Siberia when Hitler attacked Russia. We joined the Polish army, our father as an intelligence officer, our mother as welfare officer and Peter and Chris as mascots.

When the war ended, but with Poland under the control of USSR as a result of the Yalta agreement, Britain did not know what to do with this large army, which had fought under British operational command but was a foreign force and, though on the winning side, had lost its homeland. Attempts were made to disperse its members back to Poland or to any other country which would take them, but with minimal success. Eventually the Government passed the Polish Resettlement Act, under which the Polish forces joined a new British Army unit named the Polish Resettlement

Corps, from which they could be demobbed and allowed into England. We arrived in September 1946. Our first home was a Nissen Hut in an ex-Army camp on Salisbury Plain, one of 256 such camps used to house the nearly 200,000 arrivals. The last of these camps closed in 1969, but our parents rapidly decided that their future lay in England and moved out within a few months.

Part 2: Peter

On moving to London, I spoke little English, so the answer was to send me to boarding school.

My English improved, but my father died soon after and my mother decided that I needed to change schools. She happened to be passing Barons Court station one day where she saw a sign for St Paul`s School, found that it had a good reputation, so she phoned in July 1947 asking that I start in October. She was not put off by any problem, so a fortnight later I was in the school meeting the Surmaster, Alan Cook (1929-64 and Surmaster 1952-64), who gave me tests in 4-5 subjects. I failed each one except Latin, but he was so impressed by my mother and our story that I was surprisingly admitted in October.

I badly needed a bursary as we had no money, my English was still not good and I was clearly below par in most subjects. So, I had coaching for many months with Mr Flewett (Classics Department 1921-53) and he must have been a miracle worker, as I somehow obtained a bursary and managed to go into Remove and then Lower VIII followed by Upper VIII where I gained a State Scholarship and then a Major Scholarship to Cambridge. Extrovert Pat Cotter (1917-23 and Classics Department 1928-65) and introvert Walter Cruickshank (Classics Department 1947-73) ensured that all 32 of us won open scholarships or exhibitions to Oxbridge. I will never forget Friday afternoons when we had to convert Chaucer or Shakespeare into Latin or Greek verse. I gravitated into classics to my family`s surprise who suggested something practical, e.g., economics. When I mentioned this at school, I was immediately summoned to the High Master and told that only two subjects are worth studying – classics and pure mathematics! So, classics it was.

I was not good at sport, though I persevered with rugger, played full

back for the 3rd XV and for F Club when we surprisingly won the club competition. Cricket was a mystery and boxing was horrid – hard to understand why such a wonderful school wanted to be the best boxing school in the UK. I preferred bridge and chess, became Chess Captain and played in many tournaments.

Alan Cook's decision was an important factor in my life and the bursary scheme was such a help. That is why I applaud and support the current scheme.

Part 3: Chris

I started at the local primary school knowing two words of English, Yes and No.

The teacher, in a class of over 40, made it her task to teach me English, and between her and fellow pupils I soon spoke fluently and, surprisingly, more grammatically than my new friends.

Our mother made our education her priority and, remarkably, got Peter into St Paul’s. It was then relatively easy for me to follow, with scholarships, first to Colet Court in 1949 and then St Paul’s.

My first year at St Paul’s was as a classicist in Remove, where I took my O levels in 1954. My mother was keen that I should do something more practical than Classics, in this respect not following Peter. Alan Cook and Jacky Moakes (1921-26 and Maths Department 1931-67) promised her that if I passed Additional Maths at O level, I could convert to Science in the top LMS8 set for the following year. Surprisingly, I scraped through Additional Maths. They honoured their promise and I went on to A and S levels in Maths, Physics and Chemistry, a State Scholarship and an Exhibition to Christ’s College, Cambridge, where I read Mechanical Sciences. With a year to spare before Cambridge, I was allowed to sit in on A level lessons in French and German, a good way of rounding off my time at St Paul’s.

While at St Paul’s I played rugby, boxed and rowed for school teams, cricket for F Club, and was a Prefect and Under Officer in the CCF.

Without doubt St Paul’s provided a vital foundation for the rest of my life. Living away from London made it difficult to keep in touch, but in recent years I have enjoyed playing golf for the OP Golf Society.

Peter and Chris

TOECAPS LIKE MIRRORS: THE CCF

Michael Simmons (1946-52) shares his memories of ironing, polishing, exercises and camp

There were relatively small RAF and Naval sections in the Combined Cadet Force at St Paul’s but, as I was not in them, I am not equipped to talk about them. Most of us drifted into the Army section. Joining the Scouts with a return to the bare knees only recently left behind at our prep schools had little appeal except for the enthusiasts.

The idea of spending Monday afternoons in the Gym with Mr Williams was anathema except for crazy conscientious objectors and genuine odd balls, although it was always tempting to watch the totally inadequate attempts at gymnastics of Jonathan Miller (1947-53) and Jeffrey Winner (1946-51).

Thus, every Monday at St Paul’s in the late 1940s and early 1950s seemed dedicated to military matters. Swarms of khaki clad boys descended on the School each Monday morning in term time. There was no question of arriving in civilian clothes and changing into uniform later, although on reflection it might have been a good idea. I often wonder if the

masters, most of whom had only recently abandoned their uniforms on returning from the War, adopted a different approach in teaching fledgling soldiers. If it had been only a Monday activity for us, it would not have been so bad but so much of Sunday was spent getting ready for the great day: the tip of the iceberg.

There was something singularly intransigent about the rough material of our government issue, khaki battle dress. Our mothers’ irons were borrowed to try to put some decent creases in the trousers. One trick was to turn the trousers inside out, smear the reverse creases with soap, put them back to normal and iron vigorously. The skill of putting creases in the battle dress blouse escaped me but some managed it. Our brass buckles and the bits on the front of the belt had to be polished with Brasso and a rag or Duraglit out of a tin. It was a delicate but messy business. The belt and anklets or gaiters now needed to be smeared with khaki blanco: a noxious powder mixed with water. Getting the combination right

was an art. The truly keen among us now polished the straps on the anklets with brown shoe polish and, if they were entitled to wear them, added white chalk to pick out stripes and lanyards.

I have left to last the topic of boots: an all absorbing one. When first issued, they were depressingly dull and saturated in some sort of polish to keep them supple in storage. To get a shine on the toecaps and preferably heels as well, some over enthusiastic cadets managed to set fire to their boots and turn them into burnt offerings. Burning one’s boats can be acceptable but burning one’s boots is merely uneconomic. The popular way to get a shine was to set fire to a tin of black boot polish and with a red-hot spoon slowly beat the intransigent leather into a smooth finish with the liquid polish. It could take hours and the end results were a shining toe cap and an aching wrist. I devised an alternative method, equally time consuming, of holding the boots under the cold tap and beating them with the handle of an old toothbrush and then polishing them with a rag. The end result needed to be preserved until inspection on Monday afternoon: not an easy task for those of us travelling on the Piccadilly Line in the rush hour. On too many occasions one of my carefully constructed masterpieces would be ruined by some clumsy fellow traveller. Repairing the damage took time and that was in short supply. To summarise, most of Sunday was given over to the task of preparing for Monday. What was educational about all this? You may well ask.

Our drilling was a ritual rather like square dancing. We were led by Lieutenant Colonel LF Robinson DSO, MC who taught geography and, as he should, cut a very military figure. The three companies, A to C, were captained respectively by Buster Reed, Charles Hendtlass and Walter Cruickshank in their individualistic and much parodied ways. Other masters appeared as officers in supporting roles. The acme of achievement for any Pauline was to become an Under Officer. I was

Field Marshal Montgomery inspects the CCF

considered lacking in leadership qualities and because of my seniority a special rank was created for me: Regimental Quarter Master Sergeant. This meant that I regularly took tea in my own designated mug with Regimental Sergeant Majors Walker and Ashurst: the two former regular non-commissioned officers whom the War Office supplied to keep us on the straight and narrow. Both were eternally extending their belts as they enjoyed the good life. We studied for Certificate A. Success in that exam entitled us to wear a four-pointed red star on our left sleeves. We were issued with loose leaf manuals which had to be kept up to date with regular supplements. I was not encouraged to find some headed “not to be opened except in the trenches.” What war would we be fighting?

We learned map reading which was useful in later life until the development of the GPS, field craft and much time was spent learning to assemble and disassemble the Bren Gun. The champions among us could do it blindfolded. In the week, we went to the rifle range in the Territorial Army Headquarters on Hammersmith Road and shot .22 calibre ammunition to be awarded our second and first class shot qualifications: yet another badge on the sleeve. I might as well have joined the Scouts! The recoilless firing on the indoor range lulled me into a false sense of security. When I graduated to .303 firing on the outdoor range, I was not prepared for the bruised shoulder arising from the brutal recoil. By contrast, when firing the Bren Gun in short bursts, the wretched thing had a tendency to run away from one. Why were we endlessly drilling? The annual inspection was always coming round, when Field Marshal Viscount Montgomery of Alamein OP (“Monty”) or some other military big wig would come and give us a cursory once over. “Three cheers for the inspecting officer!” Long term, we were all liable in later life for National Service. I ended up in a Royal Air Force Officer Cadet Training Unit on the Isle of Man where the standard of drill that I had to achieve was

nowhere near as rigorous as in the SPS CCF. Once a term, we also went on Field Days on one or other of the commons or parks in South West London. We boarded our chartered coaches with a sense of anticipation. “A Company” was waging war on “B Company.” Our officers behaved like irresponsible schoolboys and threw thunder flashes dangerously in our general direction. Having been told continually how deadly the blank ammunition we were firing could be, we responsibly made sure that no damage was done. After a long morning of battle, it was good to pause and enjoy the packed lunch with which we had been provided. Our army marched on its stomach.

It was announced that Monty was being made a Freeman of the Borough of Hammersmith and the School CCF was to provide the Guard of Honour. There was great competition for places and I was lucky enough to be selected. You can imagine the hours of preparation. I even experimented with circles of lead piping around the inside of my trouser bottoms to keep my creases straight. It was fine until I had to stamp my foot while drilling when the lead piping jumped up and bruised my calf muscle. We drew our rifles from the Armoury and marched to the Town Hall. It was a bitterly cold day and we had left our great coats at School. We did the business and Monty inspected us. We were then supposed to go to our reserved seats to watch the freedom ceremony. But there were no seats for us. We straggled disconsolately back to School to find the Armoury locked up with our great coats inside. We dumped our rifles –the IRA could have stolen them for all we cared – and wandered off home shivering in disgust.

The annual camp was a week-long extravaganza where we put into practice what we had learned in the year. On one occasion, Monty arrived to inspect us. He approached me.

“How’s the food?” He barked.

“Very good, Sir,” I cravenly replied.

In truth, it was terrible. We were usually housed in barracks in army camps in the Home Counties but I vividly recall one camp under canvas

near Colchester. As the senior NCO in my tent, I exercised my right to put my bedding in the deepest undulation for the most comfort, as I thought. The camp site must once have been a ploughed field and the floor of our tent was a series of peaks and troughs. It poured with rain on the first night and I woke to find myself and my bedding almost afloat in a newly created stream. Nevertheless, these camps were good for morale and, to the horror of my parents, I was contemplating a career in the Army. Seven days with the Irish Guards in Chelsea Barracks put an abrupt end to that ambition. They treated us like raw recruits and it was totally exhausting. The battalion was entirely run by the NCOs. The officers would appear at about 11 am in dark suits, bowler hats and with carefully rolled umbrellas, standing around for about an hour watching our efforts before going off to lunch at their clubs. They rarely reappeared again. I wondered what their function was in war.

In the view of some of us, it was all an enormous waste of time, as was National Service, but I do not subscribe to that view. Certainly, trying to get the encrusted blanco from under my fingernails or explaining to my angry mother why there were smears of boot polish all over the kitchen floor were not my idea of fun. I cannot possibly compute how many potentially profitable hours were wasted in mindless activities, but I have a strong suspicion that I would have wasted them anyway. My stentorian voice, developed on the parade ground at St Paul’s, still stops the drivers of fast disappearing taxis to their great surprise. Mine was a cohort which was mostly fortunate enough to avoid involvement in war though Egypt, Korea, Cyprus, Malaya and others were happening all around us. We played at soldiers. It was a lot safer than being involved in the real thing.

Jon Blair (1967-69) shares his Leaver’s Report fifty years on

It is a very strange experience to be confronted with the not exactly flattering impression you gave your teachers as an 18-year-old more than fifty years ago. I didn’t expect to be moved and then angered when I asked the archivist to send me my Leaver’s Report, written in my final weeks at the School by some of those who taught me and claimed to know me.

It has been a salutary experience as I read of a boy whom I vaguely recognised but felt I did not know.

But then I also have my very first school report from Parkview Nursery School in Johannesburg, written shortly before my 4th birthday. Miss Roth wrote then that I was “obedient, not aggressive and easily reduced to tears” and significantly that “he has overcome his fear of the slide.”

Miss Roth, I fear, knew me better than my subsequent Pauline masters. Just under 15 years later, in the summer of 1969, they were rather more ambivalent about my contribution to school life, let alone observant of the many insecurities that underpinned the adolescent I was. My only consolation is my certainty that at least some of the less pleasant things of which they wrote were proved over time to be way off beam – or at least I think they were. I have to admit, however, that nothing was quite as unrevealing of my future destiny as what was written in the Leaver’s Report of one Jonathan Miller (194753) of whom a teacher wrote “I like him but I am glad he is leaving”, while Buster Reed (1926-30 and i/c boxing

1947-72), whose main contribution to school life (at least in my day) seemed to be in punishing boys who arrived late to school, and of whom almost none of my own peers had anything good to say, could only write “He has done nothing at all for his Club.” I am sure Sir Jonathan regretted that lack of contribution to Pauline life to the end of his days!

A theme throughout my reports was that I was academically able, but that I consistently showed an unwillingness to put in the hard work required to satisfy Pauline standards. My history teacher says that while my essays “are always interesting, they are often shallow” and that my reading “has been unsystematic.” That’s not my recollection at all, and to this day I remember the extraordinary volume of reading that was required for all three of my chosen A Levels: History, English and Politics with Economics, for all of which I ultimately got pretty reasonable results, certainly good enough to get me into an elite university where I never had to read as much again.

Then there was my housemaster, Philip McGuinness (Modern Languages Department 1951-87), who correctly observed that I “obtained an early reputation as a radical revolutionary within the school, not because of what he did but for the extreme opinions he expressed”. That I was a political refugee from apartheid South Africa and he a pretty conservative Englishman teaching at an elite public school whose opinions had been forged in pre war England, doesn’t get a look-in. Cruelly, and I don’t use the word lightly, he wrote of me for

posterity that “emotionally he is unstable and takes the slightest blows of fate harshly in really a very pathetic way”. And then to top it off, although I was “very courteous and possessed natural charm,” I was “going to suffer a great deal in life I’m afraid.” How this all squared with his conclusion that “I like him very much and have admiration and respect for him” is an inconsistency that is simply baffling, though I will admit that I too liked him, and, though we clashed occasionally, I thought both he and his wife were fundamentally kind people, albeit from another planet to that which I inhabited.

The Report alluded to a significant event in my final year at St Paul’s, but unsurprisingly never went into detail, though the oblique comments about my emotional instability and the like were the closest it came to it. As I went into the Upper Eighth in the late summer of 1968, there were student riots against the status quo in France, Germany and elsewhere, huge demonstrations in the US against the Vietnam war, the assassination of Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy, the Prague Spring and the shift of cultural tectonic plates worldwide. All of which remained unremarked upon in the closeted world of St Paul’s, while on a rather more prosaic and local level I took over the editorship of Folio, the magazine written, produced and sold by the pupils of both the Boys’ and Girls’ schools, but subject to censorship by two teachers, and ultimately the High Master himself.

For the centrefold of the December 1968 edition, the end of the first term

School House prefects

Anthony Hardy

Patrick Rogers (1964-69), Philip McGuinness, Jon Blair, and Mark Lowery

in the new school in Barnes, I had written an article for which I had visited the three state schools closest to Lonsdale Road and interviewed their head teachers. I concluded that each of these schools, given their extremely poor physical premises and facilities, could significantly benefit from a charitable act of allowing them during downtime to use some of the lavish facilities now available to us privileged few when they would otherwise be unused. My “modest proposal” (shamelessly borrowed from Jonathan Swift,) didn’t involve eating children, but nonetheless incurred the wrath of Tom Howarth, the High Master (1962-73), who insisted every bit of the “proposal” be removed from the article. The proposal of course is now not only not controversial, but is regarded as an essential part of the School’s contribution to the local community, if for no other reason than to help justify its charitable status.

At the time, though, it was nothing of the sort, and the blunt instrument of overt censorship was Howarth’s response. I was furious and resigned the editorship taking the rest of the editorial board with me. This storm in a school teacup was picked up by several London newspapers, drawing unwanted publicity to St Paul’s.

So, is there a lesson to be drawn from this 1,000-word exercise in self-indulgence? Yes, which is why I have written it: to past, present and future Paulines, don’t ever forget that we (and our masters) are all products of our times. Just as my excellent teachers of medieval history consistently reminded me that all perception, and indeed history itself as written down, is filtered through personal prejudice, historic context and the position in society of the author, these Leaver’s Reports are far more indicative of the prejudices of our teachers than of who we were or what we would make of our lives.

If you fancy a bit of navel gazing, I urge you, dear Atrium reader, to request your Leaver’s Report. Who knows: some of it may even tell of a boy you vaguely recognise. 

Nice and quiet (or

by istenem

seem to fit.

other entry).

4 answers

be treated thematically

then fill in

of Clyde funnyman

for bishop

trades

denied sip, crumbles in a pile (5)

Disney character is now called a dwarf (5)

in Africa alien gets pain in stomach

table bias endless setback in Japan, Crumbs! (4)

Drool from tailless Pomeranian (4)

What’s left before a member to go over old ground (7)

was brave with heart of Chopin (4)

Copycat pear recipe (4)

Fulham finally put away penalty that is Cottage game etc. (4,3)

rattlesnake under R (4)

Sharp heel: bastard leaving IOUs (4)

Senior service in the shit for obscene display (5)

that got away did write off Odysseus’

‘faze’ for audience (5)

disastrous spin-out corsair

with Barabbas’ saviour

The magic flute works (5)

Pauline found in North-East, over my dead body (4)

End of apocalypse returns to sight (4)

Fascinated by eavesdropping what Snoop did (4)

ready for Edinburgh’s first joke (5)

Target for bowlers Australian’s the best, Englishman slashed repeatedly but never got caught (4, 3, 6)

Add poison, endless script felt tip identifying murderer (6, 7)

Secret police postage fraud (7)

Parents may keep nippers here to muck about and shut up (4-3)

Prettify advertising goblin (5)

Vespa escapes carrying Scottish bets (5)

Bollocksed animals leaving pubco just one piece of cutlery

Mars bar the fifth works (5)

Inexperience and Slipperiness at heart of a fairy (4)

Fight back getting hit repeatedly by knuckles

buddy is such a