Old Olavian

Editor’s Notes

So, another year has passed, another year full of various activities and experiences. In January I returned from a six-week holiday in Australia, a very mixed experience: my regular readers will know that I have a passion for cricket, and have had ever since I discovered the game when I was at StOGS in the mid-twentieth century. I watched four of the five Test matches - in Adelaide, Perth, Melbourne and Sydney - as most readers will know Australia had much the better of the series, so supporting England was not the easiest way of spending my time. Happily there were plenty of good compensatory moments during my time there - amongst these was meeting up in Adelaide with an old cricketing friend in Chris Swadkin, one of the best cricketers to emerge from St Olave’s during the past seventy years or so.

In June when Derbyshire’s match with Kent finished early at Canterbury, where I had been scoring the game for Derbyshire, I was able to visit the school for the first time in many years. As a result I was for the first time able to meet Jane Wells, who does so much work for the Old Olavians. She told me that I did not look anything like what she had expected, although she did not reveal how she thought I should look. On the other hand I was able to tell Jane that was she much more glamorous than I had expected.

Jane was very generous in giving of her time: she took me on a conducted tour of part of the school, and drew my attention in particular to the archives, documents and memorabilia of the Old Olavians’ Society. Some of these were on display in glass-fronted display cases, so present pupils would be able to absorb some of the school’s history and perhaps recognise their own place in that history. We are very lucky to have someone of Jane’s calibre and enthusiasm looking after our interests.

The more observant of our readers will have noticed that the contributions of OOs who left school during the 1940s have dwindled during the last two editions. We have heard recently that Roger Hards who, for so many years, collated all the contributions from members from this decade so thoroughly is having trouble with memory-loss, and this explains why it is that what had become his own section of this magazine has virtually disappeared. Roger has acted as OO archivist for many years; he has also helped with the proof-reading of this section of the magazine, so it is right that we should acknowledge the considerable contribution which he has made to the OOs.

I am very grateful to the three Olavians who have responded to my plea to send their own memories of the “Good Old Days” - contributions from Professor Roger Brown, Robin Dadson (again!) and Dick Haylett all make excellent reading and I am sure that older members, in particular, will enjoy looking back at those mostly happy days of their youth. I am sure that these contributors will have enjoyed putting down their memories on paper (or is it ‘screen’ nowadays?), so I hope there will be others whose consciences will make them follow suit.

My own cricket season was very mixed: some readers will remember the tragic start for Derbyshire when their wicket-keeper was involved in a car crash in which the driver, his father, was killed. This resulted in the first match being postponed: thereafter, the team struggled to come to terms with events and their performances on the field fell far short of what they would have expected of themselves. Gradually the season picked up, so that they finished strongly by winning five of their last six championship matches. So the season ended in an air of optimism for the coming seasons, but at almost the same I heard of the death of my closest friend among county scoring colleagues, Alan West from Lancashire.

As I have said 2014 was, therefore, a very mixed season: I had even played in a couple of matches myself, but certain events come along to remind us all that there is more to life than cricket, or any other of our more trivial pursuits. If any of the students at school have taken the trouble to read this far in these notes, I would urge them to make the very most of all the opportunities which come their way; and be proud to be an Olavian.

As always, I must acknowledge the enormous debt we owe to Jane Wells for the most efficient manner in which she collates and forwards all the contributions which are sent to her.

John Brown Editor, Old Olavian

Chairman’s Report

At the end of last year’s report, it was late September 2013 and I had just enjoyed the reunion at the RAF club. My next duty in the Society’s year was attendance at the School Remembrance Service, which took place in the Great Hall on Monday 11th November. It is good to see Old Olavians attending, especially from The Old Olavians Lodge who are always represented at this service by Graham Milne (195663). I will be attending again in a few weeks’ time and would encourage those local enough to attend, to try to come along in 2015. The date is announced quite early in the winter term, and it will be in the newsletters and in our Events Calendar on our website.

As chairman I am very fortunate. I am often invited as a guest to concerts and other events. So it was that I took my place at the School Christmas Concert. This was the beginning of what will be two years, where often I will not just be there as an Old Olavian. I was also there as a proud father and the concert with its mix of choral, classical, jazz and carols was a thoroughly enjoyable evening.

The AGM was held again in March, and the minutes are below. Trev Read resigned from his post on the committee and I would like thank him again for the support he has given to me and the Society since I was elected to my current role. We were lucky to have two Old Olavians willing to stand as committee members, and in order to boost the strength of the committee it was agreed that posts would be found for both. I am pleased to say that Rajiv Purwar (1970-77) and Graham Milne (1956-63) were proposed, seconded and voted onto the committee. More Old Olavians are very welcome to attend, and to have a say in what goes on. The date will be published in the new year on our website.

The 40s Lunch this year took place at the RAF Club Wednesday 30th April, the day before the School Commemoration Service. Jane Wells arranged it, and those in attendance had a lovely time reminiscing. I know that Jane is investigating the possibility of holding a future lunch in the new hotel that has taken the Tooley Street premises. The owners are planning to open in 2015, and we will perhaps have an opportunity to visit and see the rooms that had to remain little changed due to being listed – the Great Hall and the Governors’ room. Watch this space – or our newsletters and website for more information.

In recent years, Old Olavians have been meeting up on the morning of the annual Commemoration Service to relive memories of days spent in the Tooley Street school buildings, and to act as guides to lower school pupils. This year, the old school premises were again not accessible, and probably will never again be recognisable as St Olave’s, once inside, with the exception of the Great Hall and the Governors’ room. Whilst a few did meet for lunch beforehand, expertly organised by Jane, it was just before, and after, the service that we were able to catch up with each other. Old Olavians attending the service are reserved seats, and invited to tea afterwards, as long as you let Jane know you are attending.

Unfortunately I missed the Headmaster’s garden party again, and still have not had the opportunity to see the magnificent roses. The only year I was able to put in an appearance, it rained and the venue was changed to the foyer. Maybe this year?

Whilst I have been fortunate to attend concerts and productions through the year, most have been as a Dad. That said, Old Olavians are welcome at all School concerts and productions, and Jane will be very happy to arrange tickets. The Olavian Lecture series has been very successful, and the speakers, often renowned in their field. So please read the newsletters, both ours and the Headmaster’s, and visit our website and the School’s to keep up to date with what is on offer.

And here we are back where we started, well a year on. September Friday 26th and the Old Olavians reunion at the RAF Club in Piccadilly. The RAF Club looked after us very well, with a menu of Smoked Salmon, Roast Rib-Eye of Beef with Yorkshire Pudding, roast potatoes and a selection of vegetables, and Chocolate Gâteau, Coffee and Petits Fours to follow. We again had Old Olavians attending who spanned nine decades of the School. However, there is always room for more diners. It was very good to see Eric Bickerdike-Hibbs there again. He joined the School in 1937, when the headmaster was Henry George Abel. Five of the senior prefects who had left in the summer came along as Old Olavians. They were students under the current headmaster, Aydin Önaç, who is only the fourth headmaster since Henry Abel.

Mr Önaç, our President, spoke about the School, their achievements and the future, before proposing the toast to the Old Olavians. Replying this year to the Headmaster’s toast was Noel Tredinnick (1960-67). He can be properly described as a maestro. He is a composer, organist, orchestrator, and conductor and, as a professor at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama, he still teaches conducting, orchestration and music awareness. He tried to teach us how to conduct, he had us laughing and he had us singing. He reminded us of the extraordinary musical talent that has come out of the School, even introducing us to a man in the room, Roy Moore (1961-66), who among many other things composed the theme tune to Allo’ Allo’ with David Croft. There are others’ recollections of the evening in the pages that follow, so I will let them describe what they remember. I must just say it was the best rendition of ‘Olaf to Right the Wrong’ I have ever experienced, to finish the formalities.

It is likely that we will return to the RAF Club in Piccadilly for the 2015 reunion on Friday 25th September. Pencil it into your diaries now. Please keep an eye out for confirmation of the date and venue, which will be posted in the newsletter, and on our website. The guest speaker will be Sir Antony Wands (1968-75).

This year also saw the publication of “Till all our fight be fought”, written by Peter Leonard (1970-77) and funded by the Old Olavians Society. The book remembers the 192 Olavians who lost their lives in the Great War, and whose names are recorded on the memorial in the Great Hall. The release was timed to coincide with the 100 year anniversary of the outbreak of war, and the School will benefit from a share of the profits realised. I hope that you have already purchased your copy. I am sure Jane will still be able to source a copy for you if you have not.

And so that brings us to the beginning of a new year.

The Old Olavians Society, and ultimately the School, are grateful to those who remember this great institution in their own wills. No matter the amount, the funds can always be put to very good use.

Last year the Society and the Benevolent Fund donated £20,000 to the School, including specific donations and excess funds. The uses to which these funds are put enable the School to continue to support the pupils in ways that many state schools are just not capable of doing. One only has to read The Olavian to see the breadth of student activities and the talent nurtured by this great school.

The Old Olavians group on LinkedIn is over three hundred strong now. Please don’t forget that you can add a link to your LinkedIn profile, your Twitter account and your Facebook page, should you wish to, on your personal details page on the Society’s website - www.oldolavians.net. That is also where you should direct any Old Olavian that you know is not receiving our newsletters.

And, as ever, I still like to know what else you would like from the Old Olavians Society, preferably with a suggestion of how it can be achieved. Write or email via our administrator at the School, Jane Wells (details below). Looking forward to serving, and hearing from, you.

Chris Harris (1970-77)

Can be contacted via OOs Administrator jwells@saintolaves.net

Annual General Meeting

OLD OLAVIANS’ SOCIETY ANNUAL GENERAL MEETING – 17th March 2014

1. Minutes of Last Meeting

Agreed

2. Matters Arising

2.1. Investment costs

The invested funds were to be moved to Lansdowne & Hargreaves during the year,; however completion of the formalities became too complicated. Another agent may have to be found in the coming months.

3. Chairman’s Report

3.1.

Membership

Old Olavians on our Database – 7377, of which 2437 have provided their email addresses, an increase of 200 on last year. 402, including 23 sponsorship members, have paid full membership of £20, entitling them to the Olavian and a discounted price for the Reunion Dinner/Lunch. A further 378 members have paid something, bringing total subscriptions excluding sponsorship receipts to £11,585.

3.2. Society Administration

This continues to be managed entirely by the school’s OO Administrator (Jane Wells).

Keith Goldsack (1962-69) is looking at our website for us, with a view to making it more worth visiting.

Audit, Magazine & Reunion – managed by the committee pro tem.

3.3. Magazine

Thanks were expressed again to the OO’s section editor, John Brown, who would welcome any memories of school life, staff, etc.

And a special thanks went to Robin Dadson whose second instalment of life at STOGs in 1950s and 60s was promoted to the main part of the 2013 Olavian (Vol.116).

4. Finance Report

Copies of the audited accounts were provided to the meeting

4.1. Accounts

4.2. Notes – General Fund

Income – Subs and sponsorship were up £72, and investment income was down by £500. The leap in income was due to a bequest of £5,000 passed on to the school, and the transfer of the benevolent fund donation (see below), which was also routed through the society.

Within the balance sheet £16,449 is maintained in a separate account, held on behalf of the Old Olavians Rugby Football Club. These funds are specifically held to support the club, should it be brought out of its hibernated state.

The Reunion lunch was subsidised to the extent of £550. As the objectives of the Society are the bringing together of Old Olavians for the furtherance of personal friendships, the chairman proposed that it was acceptable use of the Society’s funds. It was slightly more than the proposed £7 discount per subscription member attending.

4.3. Donation to School

The headmaster had written with his thanks, and reported the good uses that last year’s donation had been put to, including purchasing new Tablet Computers, support for Wakeham Choristers and the Chapel weekend, and Fives, Rugby and Chess coaching.

After some considerable debate about why we maintained such large sums in the accounts it was recommended and agreed that the donation to the school would be increased to £15,000 inclusive of the sponsorship funds. Whilst we do not wish to constrain the uses found for the money it was the meeting’s wishes that it was put to “good use” and not simply swallowed up to meet the running costs of the school.

One suggested use was the provision of a balcony on the pavilion, as it seems odd that the sports pavilion does not provide a viewing platform. The chairman promised to raise this with the headmaster.

4.4. Hidden assets

We have in stock 30+ pairs of cufflinks and 90 OOs ties.

4.5. Notes – Benevolent Fund

In the previous year the trustees donated £5,000 to the Headmaster, who confirmed that it was used to support students whose financial circumstances would otherwise have made it impossible for them to participate in enrichment activities. There were no other requests for funds acceded to during the year. However, with the benevolent fund objects in mind:

“TO ASSIST NECESSITOUS OLAVIANS, WHICH TERM SHALL INCLUDE BOTH CURRENT AND PAST PUPILS AND STAFF OF SAINT OLAVE’S AND SAINT SAVIOUR’S GRAMMAR SCHOOL, BY PECUNIARY GRANTS OR IN SUCH OTHER MANNER AS MAY BE DEEMED APPROPRIATE.”, it was proposed and agreed that another £5,000 would be given to the Headmaster. This is to be used in cases of hardship, and the Society will expect a letter from the headmaster confirming that its use met with the fund’s objectives.

5. Functions Report

5.1. Reunion

The reunion was a dinner held at the RAF Club in Piccadilly on Friday 20th September. It was attended by almost over 70, with attendees spanning nine different decades. Les Padfield was the guest speaker, whose recollections of his time teaching at the school had us wanting more. This year it is anticipated that we will return to the RAF Club. A date has been provisionally booked Friday 27th September 2014 and a guest speaker has yet to be secured.

The dinner in 2015 will also likely be at the RAF

Club (date and venue to be confirmed), and the guest speaker has already been engaged. It will be Sir Antony Wands KGCM MA PhD FRSA MSI (UK) (1968-75), and it will mark the 40th anniversary of his departure from the school.

The possibility of returning to the school for a lunch was raised, with 2017 being mooted. This could coincide with a celebration to mark an anniversary or anniversaries of masters joining and or leaving the school. Some are remembered with affection by many of the Old Olavians who attend these reunions. Graham Milne has offered to look into the feasibility of arranging this event.

6. Club Reports

6.1.

Cricket Club

Ian Giles confirmed that the interaction with the school cricket team the previous year had generated some interest in turning out for OOs and that the exercise was repeated with a presentation to the school teams by himself and Chris Swadkin.

For tour they had a couple of new players. The tour was, as ever, a success, and it was hoped that everyone had seen the tour report in the 2013 Olavian.

The club would welcome a £500 donation to assist with tour costs. The donation was approved.

6.2. Rugby Club

The club continues to exist in its “hibernated” state.

7. Election Of Officers

7.1. Trevor Read tendered his resignation, which was accepted. The chairman expressed his thanks to Trev for all his support since being elected to the Chair.

7.2. A new member was sought, and both Rajiv Purwar and Graham Milne put themselves forward. Both were proposed and seconded. It was decided that a new ex-officio position would be created, and both were duly elected to their new posts. The remaining committee members were re-elected to office:

8. Other Business

8.1. Promoting Old Olavians Society

It is clearer than ever that the school wish to tap into the membership both for money and support for students. The latter is already happening more, with recent leavers returning to school to address the students with advice on the choices of courses available, with practice interviews for those applying to Oxbridge, and with careers advice. If we are to support the school with more funds, then the paying membership has to increase faster. After much discussion, it was agreed that all leavers would be offered free membership for a minimum of three years, or until they finished university. Upon completion of their courses the Society would contact them and seek to convert them to subscription members.

8.2. Reducing Costs

The cost of the Olavian can be a drag on the amount we can make available to the school. Could this be provided electronically? Would members prefer an electronic version? Should we consider providing just the Old Olavians section electronically? The Chairman will discuss with the school to see whether an electronic version has been considered. The chairman was able to confirm that the school publishes “Summatim” each term, which is six glossy pages on events etc. Jane Wells was looking to get this published electronically so that it could be shared with the members of the society. The Chairman will follow up on this.

8.3. Tooley Street school life

The Tooley Street film is available on YouTube. It is now unlikely that we will be purchasing the rights and selling it to members. Anyone that wants to see what school life was like in 1962 can find it by searching YouTube for “St Olave’s on Horselydown (1962)”.

8.4. Till all our fight be fought – The Olavian ‘Fallen’ and the Great War 1914-1918

One of our members, Peter Leonard (1970-77) previously wrote a book about the Olavians who lost their lives in WW1. The society are funding the rewrite, a new edition, which with the advances in media will, for a small outlay of £500, see a more professional book published. For each book sold, whether through the society or the publisher, the society will receive a small royalty. Any funds created in excess of the initial outlay will increase the funds we have available for the school. It will be published to coincide with the 100 year anniversary of the outbreak of war.

The meeting was adjourned at 8.55pm, and those present all retired to the Maxwell PH to reminisce.

Chris Harris (1970-77)

Annual Dinner

To save himself the task of writing a report on the dinner, our chairman persuaded three Olavians from different eras, Rajiv Purwar (1970-77), Jeremy Gould (1994-2001), Skanda Rajusundaram (2008-14) and one memeber of staff - Dr Richard Wheeler (1961-1965) - to send in their personal views of what seems to have been another memorable occasion. These reports follow here: was able to give it by that stage of the proceedings!

Rajiv writes: A Personal Reflection: It was with some initial trepidation that I attended this event for the first time (having purchased a tie in readiness at the behest of erstwhile chairman, George Snelgrove, some fifteen years ago!). But I needn’t have worried because it was a thoroughly enjoyable affair, during which I was able to renew my acquaintance with Richard White from my school class, whom I had not seen since leaving school, as well as sundry other members of my school year (1970-77). Our grand total of eight was exceeded only by one other younger (and very much younger-looking!) year group, amongst some of whom I embarrassed myself later on in the bar by accusing them of being current pupils!

Mr Treddinick, on the other hand, is clearly a born entertainer whose witty wide-ranging speech was matched by his impassioned, but nonetheless hilarious, style of delivery that, by accident or design, was worthy of the best stand-up comedy! I especially appreciated the way he shuffled his papers (pleading time constraint) in order to produce, like rabbits-from-a-hat, the choicest bits from a seemingly boundless supply of anecdotes and information that had me in stitches at times! He peppered the whole with seemingly spontaneous vocal renditions to illustrate some of the musical aspects, and all I could say at the end of it was “Bravo” (and come back next year!).

My own particular highlight, apart from the honour of sitting with Des Coulson (the previous headmaster but one -now very much the dignified elder statesman of the school to whom many of us owe so much, although I still can’t bring myself to use his Christian name to his face!) came when Mr Treddinick also chose the erstwhile school hymn “Gather Us In” to sing in addition to the predictable “Olaf To Right The Wrong”. As he informed the younger element, the former was the hymn that was always sung on the last day of term, to the apparent disapproval of the school chaplain, who would boycott it if my memory serves me correctly. It was always sung with great gusto, which must have eventually degenerated into such disorder that the aforementioned ex-headmaster told me that he eventually had to ban it some years after I left! This struck such a chord with me because I chose it for my late father’s funeral on account of its appeals to religious tolerance and exhortations to inclusivity - and this message seems even more relevant today.

Hope to see (more of) you next year!

Our year group also included Chris Harris, the current “great helmsman”, who compèred the proceedings with expertise and brevity in equal measure. This last quality was particularly appreciated as it gave more space for the main speakers to “perform”. Aydin Önaç the current Headmaster (and previously a concert-standard pianist, we were later told!) and Noël Treddinick, an eminent musician and Professor of Music at the prestigious Guildhall School of Music & Drama, duly obliged with substantial speeches that were highly thought-provoking and even more highlyentertaining, respectively.

Mr Önaç set out some of the (many and varied) achievements of the school, moving swiftly on to his vision for the future of education in general, and culminating in an erudite ecologically-orientated (not to say distinctly “New Age”!) blueprint for nothing less than the healthy future of the entire planet. This deserved slightly more intense concentration than, fortunately or unfortunately, I

Rajiv Purwar (1970-77)

Jeremy writes: Attending the Old Olavians’ Dinner at the RAF Club is always a treat. Quite apart from the gastronomic and alcoholic delights on offer, it is always good to see faces old and new, and to be reminded of the common bond that unites, and on these occasions, reunites us.

This year’s dinner was no exception - and yet it provided exceptional value in its combination of gifted orators (The Headmaster and Noël Tredinnick), mix of pleasant company, and of course gusto’d singing of “Olaf To Right The Wrong” (alas for the younger alumni, not accompanied by a spontaneous version of “Jerusalem” that has been known to sound also).

As well as friends from my time at St Olave’s (Orpington), my table was joined by a cohort from St Olave’s (Tooley Street), making that trip down Memory Lane even more diverse and spirited. of St Olave’s, of Bermondsey, of the Old Olavians Cricket XI for whom I played (without distinction I fear) but with great enjoyment, whilst I was at the school occasionally and subsequently until I moved to Hertfordshire in 1965.

Thanks to all who made the evening a great success - such a success, in fact, that under the stewardship of some OOs younger than myself, I did not make it home until 5am. My report card would surely read “must do better”.

Jeremy Gould, 1994-2001

And Skanda writes: Having officially left the school only four months ago, it was a pleasure a see a number of familiar and not so familiar faces at the ever-elegant RAF club. As members of the previous senior prefect team, it was refreshing to attend an event which was not only our first formal event ‘off duty,’ but also our last before we all depart to university. Having had such a wonderful time, however, I can safely say it won’t be our last Old Olavians’ dinner (the salmon was, in my humble opinion, exquisite).

The highlight of our evening was singing the school song for only the second time and having the honour of hearing several generations of Olavians, past and present, singing if not in harmony, most definitely in unison.

Skanda Rajasundaram (2008-2014)

What a splendid evening it was for someone like myself who was renewing an acquaintance with St Olave’s and Olavians after an astonishing gap of nearly 50 years. Where have all the years gone? I ask myself. I should explain to more recent Olavians that I taught history at the school in Tooley Street from 1961 -1965. It was my first post in teaching. I had only recently graduated from University and I was scarcely older than the Sixth Form. As a history teacher, I was enthusiastic but raw and inexperienced. Indeed, Olavians of that generation at the school in Tooley Street may well remember that. Nearly fifty years on I remember faces and many names and have happy memories

I have renewed my acquaintance with St Olave’s thanks to the kindness of the Headmaster in inviting me to lunch at the ‘new’ site in Orpington which I had never visited, as I left a little before the move. Last summer, I met up with George Snelgrove and John Lawrence who were captains of my swimming team at school. I have also kept in contact with Dr Andrew Crozier who went on to lecture at my old alma mater, Queen Mary College in East London. At the dinner I found myself sitting at the same table as Ian Giles, Keith Hamp, John Williams, John Gilfrin and Roy Moore, who remembered my history teaching (I hope at least never boring!). Amazingly our distinguished guest speaker for the evening Professor Noel Tredinnick was in my class (II Remove ) as a boy when I was his form teacher. As others will report, he gave a splendid and entertaining address, including leading the gathering in renderings of that old Tooley Street hymn at Dr Carrington’s Assemblies: ‘Gather us in thou love that fillest all’ and of course ‘Olaf to raise the song’, which brought back memories that I much enjoyed.

It was a pleasure for me to renew acquaintances with Olavians and I shall try to keep in touch and to attend the dinner again next year. Perhaps we might have an even bigger gathering of Olavians from the Tooley Street days in the early sixties. It would be marvelous for me to hear what you have all done with your lives. You were such a receptive group of all ages to teach.

Dr Richard Wheeler (Staff 1961-65)

ST OLAVE’S IN THE FIFTIES

I was at StOGS from 1958 to 1966, leaving as School Captain. I wonder if I may add a few glosses to Robin Dadson’s admirable account of the school between 1954 and 1959, which was very recognisable to me but I imagine quite unimaginable for current Olavians. I have some very clear memories of the school at this time.

The first, which Robin brings out very well, was the school’s physical setting. London was a pretty drab place in the fifties (it wasn’t long since the War had ended and there were many bomb-sites). The walk down Tooley Street from London Bridge between dingy industrial buildings could be really depressing, especially if (a) it was raining (so no playground footy), and (b) the day’s timetable included treble physics. It was even worse if after Assembly you had to appear before Dr Carrington to recite a poem due to a previous misdemeanour: failure here could mean a very severe penalty indeed. Incidentally, am I the only OO who feels that the London Dungeon (which has since moved from London Bridge) might more appropriately have been located at the Tower Bridge end of Tooley Street?

Second, the staff. Robin mentions a number of masters who were still there in the early sixties. Some had quite colourful backgrounds. Signor Baldelli, who taught Russian and Spanish, had fought in the Spanish Civil War and was the author of the Pelican book on anarchism. Reg Renshaw, who took over the school play from Benny Hill, had some incredible stories about a fellow Aussie by the name of Errol Flynn. John Ackerman Jones would begin every English lesson with a recital of a poem by Dylan Thomas and spent quite a lot of time showing us pictures of the great man’s grave. He was said to be working on a biography of Thomas, and subsequently reviewed plays in the Evening Standard under the name of John Ackerman. Geoff Chapman, who was head of geography, was well known for his bon mots; what he didn’t know was that these were lovingly recorded by his form (4R) and handed down from year to year as the Book of Chapmannerisms (I wonder what happened to it: was it lost in the move to Orpington?). Incidentally, although Robin doesn’t mention it, I have a very clear recollection that Miss Gilbert Robinson, who had indeed been hired to improve our diction, did herself have a speech impediment in the form of a slight stutter. I wonder how many of these teachers would be found in state schools today. Most of them had Oxbridge degrees but only a handful had a teaching qualification and, whilst some were inspirational, others were very poor teachers.

One omission from Robin’s account is the enormous range of student-led clubs and societies. The doyen of these was the Debating Society, and the post of Secretary of the Society was more prestigious than being School Captain. Masters would often support these, giving a lot of time to them. Thus Boggy Newmarch, who was also the longestserving master, was the Chair of the Debating Society and presided over its meetings with a knowing twinkle. Meetings would be announced by the Head in Assembly. I had started a Jazz Society, with Dr Carrington’s permission. One of our early meetings was to feature a talk on Jelly Roll Morton. The whole sixth form collapsed in a heap when Dr Carrington announced a talk on ‘J R Morton’. Fortunately I was not asked to account for this reaction.

My final reflection is that, ironically for a grammar school, StOGS in my day was not a particularly academic place, and certainly much less academically successful than it is now. A lot of effort went into things like the school play, which in Renshaw’s time involved almost the whole of the upper school, to the despair of masters trying to prepare us for the Easter mocks. As Robin says, there were recitals by groups like the Marylebone String Quartet and the London Singers. There seemed to be various other ‘distractions’ such as the periodic visits by the Public Schools Appointment Bureau. I remember very clearly going to tell Dr Carrington about my Exhibition at Cambridge. His response was ‘Hummph (Dr Carrington’s initial exclamation is impossible to render), Brown, boys at St Olave’s aren’t supposed to get scholarships to Cambridge’. That at least seems to have changed.

Roger Brown (Professor - 1958-66)

After STOGs in the Fifties

Having exhausted my memories of my days as a student at St.Olave’s in Tooley Street it has occurred to me that starting out to work in the mid-twentieth century would be to enter a totally different world to that of 2014 and a glimpse of those days might be of interest to anyone under approximately 45 years of age although I realize more senior Old Olavians could find my experiences somewhat familiar.

The one drawback of leaving St. Olave’s to earn my keep in the big wide world of commerce was that, rather than enjoy a Christmas break until the end of the first week in January, on the first day of the year 1960 I reported to the offices of Messrs Furness Withy & Company Ltd, Shipowners, at 56 Leadenhall Street EC4 to take up a position as a junior shipping clerk. Several years were to pass before New Year’s Day became a bank holiday in England. I was fortunate enough to have been offered employment with more than one shipping company, but I accepted that of Furness Withy as they had indicated a salary standing at the princely sum of £285 per annum which was £20 higher than their nearest rival. In this present day and age that small difference in a year’s salary might seem quite paltry, but in those days anyone earning £1,000 per annum was considered to be very well off indeed. I still retain one of my earliest pay slips which shows I took home just under £20 per month when I first started out in employment but I was still better off than several people of a similar age that I knew at the time.

I believe the former Furness House still stands in Leadenhall Street, but that it has been greatly modified internally. When I worked there the main hall was a very large imposing area which featured marble pillars and had lines of continuous long bench-style desks on both sides of the ground floor rather than the individual ones we see these days. Down the centre of this hall was a wide aisle and the ceiling was some two or three storeys above this main working area although there was a narrow balcony with desks on three sides at first floor level. In modern times I really cannot imagine so much prime working space in the City of London being wasted in this fashion but the building dated from a vastly different era. At the start of the 1960s few buildings in the city were more than six storeys or so high, and the development of London Wall during that decade led to much publicity being given to the ‘skyscrapers’ being erected. I really do not remember the actual dimensions of the several blocks that were constructed, but they soon became dwarfed by subsequent projects and I am not sure if any now remain.

I was appointed to the Inward Freight Department of the North Pacific Service in which six vessels of just under 10,000 tons operated on a regular schedule to the Pacific Coast of the USA and Canada via the Panama Canal throughout the year. There was also a seasonal Great Lakes Service which voyaged to the North American Great Lakes via the St Lawrence Seaway when the latter was not closed by ice. The attitude within the City was still very formal in the early 1960s with individuals being addressed by their surnames preceded by the appropriate title of Mr, Miss or Mrs and the use of Christian names was avoided. Naturally I soon got to know a few new recruits that were of a similar age to myself and formalities were dispensed with as we referred to each other as Robin, Heath, Beryl, Marion and the like but more senior staff would continue to call us by our surnames and we reciprocated in a like manner. Departmental managers and assistant managers were ‘Sir’ and there were no female managerial staff at all that I can remember, although there were recognized senior secretaries who were obviously a grade above departmental typists. Equality of the sexes was still some way off ! In those days many male workers in the city sported a pinstripe suit and would never have dreamed of leaving home without wearing a bowler hat and carrying a very neatly folded umbrella. In strolling through the streets of the city you were confronted by whole platoons of Mr Mainwarings as so magnificently played by Arthur Lowe in ‘Dad’s Army’. On one occasion a member of my departmental managerial staff was required to go on a business trip to the USA and he was most careful to include his ‘city gent uniform’ within his luggage. Evidently he attracted much attention in many areas of the States, apparently being regarded as a quaint, if somewhat eccentric, Englishman. My early duties occasionally required me to visit the offices of importers and exporters that supported Furness Withy and it was suggested by management that I should purchase a hat, preferably a bowler, to wear when making such calls. It was pointed out that, if I chose not to wear the thing, at least I would be seen to be carrying it when paying a visit. Frankly I failed to see the point of such an exercise and declined the suggestion.

The term ‘he’s something in the City’ was quite common at the time and anyone employed within the square mile could be considered as having achieved something really worthwhile by some other people. Believe it or not there were characters who set off from home clad in the recognized attire of a ‘city gent’ only to change into their working clothes on arrival at their place of employment. One such chap I came across was actually employed as what we would now call a security officer. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but he would arrive every morning in a pinstripe suit, bowler hat, umbrella and all before donning his official uniform. In the evening he would change back again before returning home to ‘impress’ his neighbours.

Those males choosing not to adopt this ‘city gent’ style were expected to wear a suit of a suitable sombre colour whilst female members of staff were required to dress in a modest fashion although I cannot recall a lady wearing trousers to work during that time as they had yet to come into fashion. Most ladies chose to wear skirts and blouses although reasonably designed dresses were also on display especially in the summer months. No low-cut necklines were seen and hemlines were set at around knee-level or lower in spite of Mary Quant. As tights of any sort, opaque or otherwise, were not yet available this was possibly just as well. Male staff were not permitted to remove their jackets whilst at their desks unless the summer temperatures became particularly oppressive in which case special dispensation could be granted. The bottoms of trouser-legs were required to measure a minimum of 16 inches although ‘fashion’ went far narrower than this level. So much for

‘The Swinging Sixties’! As one who lived through them I can say they never really happened as some people would have those that were not around at the time to believe.

In the present day some of these regulations might appear quite draconian but, conversely, smoking was freely allowed during working hours and both male and female staff took advantage of this fact. A good number of males smoked a pipe rather than cigarettes or cigars which led to one very amusing incident. Each office worker was provided with a wicker wastepaper basket alongside his or her desk (fancy modern, complicated terms such as ‘work station’ had not entered the vocabulary) in which to discard rubbish. On one occasion a gentleman had finished smoking his pipe and had knocked the remaining ash out of the bowl into the basket beside his desk. A few moments later he was alerted to the fact that the tobacco could not have been completely extinguished as the paper in his basket had actually caught fire. Without hesitating he immediately jumped up and attempted to stamp out the flames only to find his foot caught in the still burning basket as he proceeded to hop around the office!!! Luckily a nearby colleague grabbed a vase of flowers standing on her desk and threw the water onto the flames which, fortunately, were immediately extinguished and no harm was done apart from slightly singed legs - one human, one trouser.

I clearly recall first coming across ‘how the other half live’ during my early working life and just how little the ‘gentry’ knew of the average person in the street. It was budget day and everyone was anxiously waiting to learn what the chancellor intended to do and how each individual would be affected. If you were lucky enough to own a private car it almost certainly had a petrol engine with diesel units being limited to commercial vehicles. There were several grades of petrol classified by star ratings which went from two star up to five star, the higher the grade the more expensive the cost. Those few people who did own a car were quite upset to learn the cost of all grades was to be increased by sixpence per gallon which represented something like a 12.5% rise. One of the directors of the company, who came from titled stock, had a radio and was able to announce details of the budget to his secretary who then passed points of interest on to general staff members. Evidently she had remarked to him on the proposed increase in the price of petrol at which he merely responded that he would henceforth drop from the top five-star rating down to four-star in his limousine and thus continue to pay the same per gallon. Knowing exactly what vehicle this gentleman drove she pointed out that most people that owned a car would have small, basic models and would be using the lowest grade already which would give them no alternative than to pay up. Seems he the looked at her in utter astonishment and came out with the classic, ‘Small basic cars? I’ve only got a small Daimler’!!!! With his background, where just about everyone had a Rolls Royce, this actually made sense to him.

Office procedures were vastly different to the those of the twenty-first century. There were no computers, wordprocessors or calculators and much of the paperwork was done by hand. One of my duties was to keep a voyage record for each of the six ships on the Pacific Coast run which was quite laborious. A date and the time of 0000 hours was set as the official start of each voyage and, as the vessel progressed from port to port, a document known as a ‘Port Log’ was completed by an officer and airmailed to the London office. This gave the time of arrival and departure for that port and various other information such as the amount of bunkers (fuel oil) on board and the vessel’s draft both fore and aft. All the times were recorded by hand into a large volume and, when the voyage was deemed to have finished, the total of the individual hours had to tally exactly with the number of days that voyage had taken. It was very sad to look back through the details of past voyages that had been entered into these record books over the years and see so many that ended ‘lost by enemy action’ between 1939 and 1945. Eventually the port logs together with copies of all other documentation relevant to the voyage, such as bills of lading and manifests, were boxed up and, after a year or so, were taken down to the storage area in the lower basement. I remember quite distinctly the tall racks of boxes dating back years, all covered in thick layers of dust, but retained just in case they were ever needed for some obscure reason. The space taken up was quite astounding.

Communications were also very different. There was an enormous amount of mail exchanged between the Inward Freight Department and the various offices on the Pacific Coast and letters were typed up on old-style typewriters with only the senior secretaries being lucky enough to have an electric machine. There were, of course, no such things as emails so when a letter was dispatched a reply could not be anticipated much before a week had passed even by airmail. As a result more urgent communications were sent via the telex department or occasionally by cable. Copies of individual documents were retained for record purposes and, without the benefit of computers, these all had to be filed away manually into the appropriate folder stored within one of several tall metal filing cabinets. Great care had to be taken to ensure documents were filed in the correct place, otherwise it was virtually impossible to find them if needed at some future date. Although that sounds quite a simple task I came across more than one junior staff member who simply could not master the principle. For instance all the six ships serving the Pacific Coast had names starting ‘Pacific’. Naturally any document referring to an individual ship should have been placed in the folder relative to that ship, ie. ‘Pacific Northwest’, Pacific Reliance’ etc. but, on more than one occasion, I found that a new folder had been opened entitled ‘Pacific’ and everything relating to all six ships had been plonked in it. Calculations could be done with the aid of a facit machine which was a mechanical calculator long since replaced by electronic devices. By today’s standards the telephone system would have appeared very primitive and, although it was quite simple to dial numbers within the UK, any calls to the USA or Canada had to be booked in advance and were only permitted to be made by the most senior staff members. The telephones themselves were of the pre-push button variety fitted with a dial and were quite cumbersome by today’s standards. Once a week a lady who was employed by an outside contractor would appear and clean every ‘phone throughout the office with a disinfectant. There was a telephone switchboard in the basement where three telephonists handled all incoming calls and connected the caller to the appropriate extension as no direct dialing system was available. Particular attention had to be made to refer to these ladies as ‘telephonists’ rather than ‘callgirls’ which was quite easy to do if one was not careful!!!

Each staff member was allowed a coffee break of twenty minutes during the morning and an hour for lunch. There were no set times for these breaks and the staff members of individual departments came to an amicable agreement between themselves to ensure that at least one desk was manned at all times. Every morning I would make my way to a branch of a prominent catering chain of the day situated in Fenchurch Street Station Approach which I shall not name in view of what follows. Here, together with a few colleagues, I would enjoy the morning break. There was but a limited choice of beverages, namely tea, coffee or a soft drink, with no multiple offerings as are available today. The coffee was dispensed from a sort of urn situated a few feet above the counter and this was fitted with a crude gauge consisting of a long rod which stuck up through the top cover of the urn and clearly had a float fitted at the bottom end. When the rod fell to a certain level the person serving behind the counter would holler out ‘COFFEE’ in a voice reminiscent of ‘Diomedes of the loud war cry’. Immediately another member of staff would appear from behind the scenes carrying a plastic bucket full of steaming liquid, clamber onto a chair and empty the contents into the opened top of the urn. It then became very clear that the inside of the semi-transparent bucket was heavily stained by previous consignments of brews that had been delivered to the urn. Just how present-day hygiene and health and safety regulations would view this operation I have no idea but it was perfectly acceptable at that time. One other catering establishment had a dining area in a basement which was accessed via a stairway and then along a narrow passageway to the right of which were the kitchens. It was always necessary to queue down the stairs and along the passageway which became very congested as a result. As one entered the dining area the food was served from what we would now call a carvery and, having made your choice, you continued on to find a seat beyond. There were no tables as such but the walls were fitted all around with a sort of continuous shelf upon which your meal was placed and then eaten whilst you sat on a high stool. The centre of the basement was taken up by a further eating area consisting of a raised oblong surface which was also surrounded by stools. I would think the whole place measured no more than 20 x 10 feet and was extremely popular, always being packed out by workers of all ages. Had there been a kitchen fire it could have cut off the escape route to the street outside and I hate to think what the outcome might have been, but there did not appear to be any regulations in force to stop this potential death-trap from operating.

An added bonus to the annual salary came in the form of ‘Luncheon Vouchers’ normally issued by a company known as Luncheon Vouchers Ltd, and these could be exchanged for meals at a good number of restaurants and pubs that had signed up to the general scheme. Some employers issued their own in-house luncheon vouchers which could only be exchanged at a limited number of catering establishments that had come to an arrangement with those employers and were thus less popular. Furness Withy chose to deal through Luncheon Vouchers Ltd and issued vouchers to the value of three old shillings per day which equates to fifteen pence in today’s currency. This was the maximum sum allowed before there was an income tax liability so most organisations stuck to this level. Fifteen pence may seem a ridiculously small amount in 2014 but way back in 1960 that would buy a reasonable basic main course such as sausages or a portion of meat pie together with a portion of two separate vegetables followed by a basic sweet. The main course would set you back around two shillings and sixpence (12.5 pence) and the sweet would cost the remaining sixpence (2.5 pence) and, as no change was given, everyone made sure they used up their full entitlement. There was nothing to stop you adding a little more cash to the value of the voucher if you so wished and purchasing a more expensive meal but few younger people did. We also enjoyed a mid-afternoon cup of tea which was delivered to our desks by a tea-lady who would push her trolley with its crockery and tea-urn down the centre aisle from one end of the hall to the other and serve the refreshments in turn to the end of each line of desks. It was the custom for city offices to be open every Saturday morning with limited staff members on duty which meant that every fourth week you had to do your Saturday morning turn. On such mornings the more formal dress-codes were relaxed and sports jackets and trousers could be worn by men but a tie was still essential. Less formal dresses were allowed for female staff but still no mini-skirts! In order to compensate for the Saturday working an afternoon off was granted the following week and, as most people went straight home, it could mean that you then had a spare luncheon voucher and could really go to town by splashing out a whole six shillings (30p) on a meal when you so wished. If the country were to be treated to a reasonable spell of fine weather it was possible to exchange luncheon vouchers for sandwiches or some similar snack after which you would head for one of the open spaces around Tower Hill to enjoy the sunshine whilst eating your picnic lunch. Our favourite venue was opposite the old Port of London HQ building near to Tower Hill underground station the entrance to which was then in Eastcheap rather than where it is today.

Travelling to and from work was either by bus or train with those people living further afield relying on the latter. Crowds of people poured through the various London termini to reach their jobs in the City and Furness Withy had staff members that travelled to and from London Bridge, Cannon Street, Fenchurch Street and Liverpool Street mainline stations with others using London Underground. As I was living a couple of miles or so south of London Bridge I usually used the buses as this was more economical although traffic congestion could be quite horrendous and there were always lengthy queues of commuters at the bus stops. I have already mentioned the attitude to smoking in offices and there was also a much more relaxed situation in this regard on public transport. Some limitations were imposed in that smokers were obliged to use the top-deck of a bus, but I have no idea what happened if the vehicle only had a single deck as few of such operated in central London and I never came across one. Trains were provided with both ‘smoking’ and ‘non-smoking’ compartments in which a passenger could choose to travel. Unlike modern rolling stock many of the train coaches which were employed on commuter services in those days had individual compartments with a door on either side and no aisle leading to other areas of the train. Many trains employing such stock travelled quite long distances to places such as Sevenoaks or Gravesend and could take a fair time to complete the journey so it was an unwise commuter who imbibed too much in a city hostelry before catching a train home but I shall elaborate no further. Even greater caution was necessary for any passenger taking advantage of a day’s visit to the seaside aboard one of the regular weekend excursion services that were on offer at that time. Such trains were frequently made up of quite ancient rolling stock of the single-compartment variety hauled by an equally vintage locomotive which chugged along at a somewhat modest speed. The sort of precautions that had to be taken are not so very hard to imagine especially on the return journey after a day out by the briny.

I spent a total of nine years in the employment of Furness Withy but eventually left to join another shipping company as a ‘Freight Representative’ in which capacity I served over the next twenty-five years with a variety of lines. I remained based in the city for another ten years or so, but it was during those first nine years that it became obvious that things were gradually changing and, with the rapid advances in communications and technology, many companies decided to de-centralise and moved out of ‘The Square Mile’. By the mid-sixties Saturday morning working had been phased out and a more general use of Christian names had crept in. The days of the city gent in the pin-striped suit with his bowler hat and furled umbrella were numbered although I do recall a few that lasted into the late seventies.

Eventually my employer of the day moved away from the city to take advantage of cheaper accommodation and I found myself reporting to new offices in the old Royal Docks in Silvertown. The pace of change had accelerated through the seventies and a fascinating era came to an end. Old Edwardian-style offices were demolished to be replaced by more modern open-plan buildings and dresscodes became somewhat more relaxed. The wearing of hats, which, as we have seen, had been regarded by some as being obligatory in the early sixties, all but disappeared and even mini-skirts were eventually accepted. This subsequently resulted in a phenomenon hitherto unknown and, indeed, not previously required, namely, ‘the modesty board’, but that is another story!!!

Robin A Dadson (1954-59)

WELL, OLAF……..WE DID BEAR ALONG

Some reflections on STOGS in 1947 and after

In late July 2014 I met up with a couple of other Old Olavians, Michael Donovan and Terry Golding. Our friendship is of such long standing that it seems we have been mates since Methuselah was a lad. For a long time we have been meeting up three or so times a year to have some drinks, then lunch at one or other restaurant in the environs of Covent Garden. Our partners come along. We chat and conversation moves round ineluctably to discussion of our school days. The recollections set out here result from me having been in my cups on that day and agreeing, without too much forethought, to write some words for The Olavian about our experiences at the school back in the days of yore ... many years ago (Eheu fugaces ...).

Our paths first crossed in 1947 when we were new boys. Michael (who would later sit next to me) and Terry were both from Rotherhithe and knew each other from junior school. I came from Abbey Wood. Six of my classmates from my junior school in Plumstead were new boys along with me. I remember them well. They were: John Spencer: he lasted but one term: his father, an Officer in the Salvation Army, was transferred to the Medway area. Spencer’s departure was a loss to the school. He had an air of quiet determination about him. He was able and would have made his mark.

David Moakes: I had known him since infant school in 1942. I last spoke to him in 1998 when he told me that, as he was living in Bristol, he felt he would be unable to attend any more Reunion Dinners.

Tom Phelan, who later took Holy Orders.

Brian Monks, whom I last spoke to some time in 2010, sadly died in 2013 (see the last issue of The Olavian and his biographical account in the 2005 issue).

Colin Loveridge was another; and finally Derek Wooler: Derek was a particular friend of mine. He became the only man I knew to have held, at different times, commissions in the Army and the Royal Air Force. His mother was very forceful and regularly made the journey to Tooley Street to confront and to upbraid Dr Carrington for sanctioning too much homework and for being too autocratic. Neither Carrington nor Mrs Wooler would yield and I was sad when Wooler was taken from the school in 1949. We kept in touch.

My journey to school took about an hour. It was comprised of a short walk, a trolleybus ride, a train journey, and a walk along Tooley Street. We sought to catch the 8.04am stopping train from Plumstead Station which was scheduled to arrive at London Bridge at 8.30am. Joining us at the station were boys of other years and from other Plumstead schools. From our year I recollect Reg Barnes, Roy Filkins, Ray Middleton, and Ronnie Chappell. The Southern Railway rolling stock which carried us was all very old but the railway staff were dedicated, and punctuality was surprisingly good. We sat in individual compartments seating ten or twelve. Usually there were standing passengers. In those days most people smoked. Often, in the winter, windows remained closed and to be seated in a closed compartment when four or five people were smoking was to experience a nicotine-rich atmosphere. Passive smoking? We were kippered.

The journey took us through parts of London that had endured the worst of the Blitz. The damage was still clearly evident - large tracts of land, where once buildings had been, becoming colonised by plants such as rosebay willowherb and ragwort. Of course thousands of houses still stood and, in winter, from the chimney of each issued a plume of sulphur-rich coal-smoke. At the time no-one had directly linked these emissions with the dense choking fogs we endured each winter and which often brought the whole city to a near-standstill.

On exiting London Bridge Station we descended a long flight of stone steps ready to walk the whole length of Tooley Street. This took about ten minutes allowing us to get to school for registration at 8.45am. The Tooley Street of today is much gentrified and is markedly different from the immediate post-war, grimy place of work, replete with offices and warehousing. Just to the north lay the western end of the Pool of London and much cargo was landed there. On the south side of the street many businesses were housed underneath the railway arches, locations which offered cool and capacious storage. Most of these businesses were specialist importers. A vast variety of commodities was handled – snuff, spirits, dried fruits, spices, exotic stuff from the east, coffee – all of these things had a characteristic odour whilst along Bermondsey Street wafted the smell of the tanneries: to this add the smell of dung, the result of there being large numbers of horsedrawn carts used for local deliveries. Each trip down Tooley Street was an olfactory experience.

Of course Terry and Michael never joined me on the Tooley Street walk. Their journeys started near to where Canada Water Underground Station is now situated, but in those days there was no Jubilee Line and transportation was by trams that trundled along Jamaica Road. Terry and Michael used to board either a 68 or a 70 for a journey to Tower Bridge Road which took something under a quarter-of-an-hour. Over the years many Olavians used those trams. The School Gate was close to the western end of the school site. The “New Building”, in which all First and Second Years were housed was towards the eastern end of the site, so boys coming from the east were obliged to walk over twice the length of the Main Building in order to reach their classrooms. Hence there was a temptation to take a short cut by scrambling over the low perimeter wall. Previously decorative Victorian railings had stood on this wall but in 1940 they had been taken and melted down for ‘The War Effort’. The manoeuvre was ill-advised. The Head’s study had an east-facing window, and he was eagle-eyed. First time offenders got Saturday morning detention. Repeat offenders were caned.

On first entering that imposing Victorian building we were daunted. That said, I’m guessing that every subsequent batch of new boys since then will have been no less daunted to be joining a school with so much history and so much tradition. We, however, were a resilient lot. We had lived through the War and most of us had stayed in London throughout the Blitz. Moreover we had been threatened during 1944 by Hitler’s terror weapons, the V1 and the V2. We quickly settled into the totally masculine environment which prevailed in those days. Roger Carrington had been in post for ten years and though, at the time, none of us knew it, in the next two or three years we would see many changes. I deal with eight such changes below.

I. Staff changes. Early on I saw what seemed to be a lot of old teachers. I am now full of years and from my current standpoint I guess I would judge those same men to have been in their late prime. Without doubt though, the average age was high. These men had been keepers of the flame for many years, some having joined the school even before the Headmastership of Senex (H G Abel, 1922-37). Things would change, the end of the academic year 19471948 would see the departure of a number of characterful teachers who had each given long and distinguished service to the school.

Figuring in the grand exodus were: H Grainger (Chemistry - 1909-48); Dr EW Shanahan (Geography and Economics - 1915-48); EL Joseph (History - 1927-48); RG Shackel (Physics - 1928-48); SC Charlwood (History and Geography 1928-48)

All of these retired. Additionally RR Pedley (Head of English) left to become Head of Chislehurst and Sidcup Grammar School. At that time teaching staff numbered twenty-six; hence at a stroke almost 25% of them had gone. The legacy of Shanahan and Shackel was their text books - A Modern World Geography and A Concise School Physics: it pleased me that among the text books I would be using were ones written by teachers at my school.

A number of old hands from Abel’s days remained: they included; HG Wright (1919-52); AJ Sinclair (1924-51); AW Walker (1925-55); HO Newmarch (1927-66); J Middleton (1931-60); EH Davies (1933-66); Dr HC Stockwell (1936-49). Each of these would teach me in later years and both Boggy and Stocky would be among my future form-masters.

Of those departing ‘Charly’ Charlwood was the only one to have taught me: he was a small, slight man with slicked back hair, he wore a dark three-piece suit and a stiff collar. Many other teachers were similarly attired. He was a kindly man with a twinkle in his eye; his delivery was brisk, almost staccato and, after delivering a nugget of information, he would look us in the eye and say “Forget that”. It didn’t take long for one of us to ask why we should do that: out came Charly’s practised reply: “I’ve been doing this for a long time and I know that you boys always do the opposite of what I tell you”. Using this method he taught us a lot of Geography.

II. Junior Forms. Among the surprises, when, as new boys, we arrived at the school, was the discovery that we were not the smallest minnows in the pond. There were even smaller fry – boys as young as eight. Boys in my firstyear class, Peter Grist and Kevin Gough-Yates, had been in the Junior Forms.

There was no recruiting of these very young boys after 1947 and just like old soldiers, the Junior Forms just faded away.

III. School Meals. In 1947 Food Rationing was in force: for economic rather than availability considerations the Government could not afford to import food, hence rations were kept at wartime levels. John Strachey (Minister of Food) then tightened the screw by causing bread and potatoes to be rationed. Even in wartime that had been avoided. Unsurprisingly most boys sought to have a school meal at mid-day, but the school lacked the facilities to provide such meals. Therefore every day we were obliged to march, in good order, to Riley Road School where the good ladies of Bermondsey cooked and served us a school dinner. Haute cuisine it was not. They did their best but the quality of the ingredients was poor and the facilities were inadequate to serve so many people. My memories of those meals are not good.

There would be change. By the third term of 1948 kitchens had been installed at the south-east corner of the Great Hall and henceforth meals were prepared on the premises. There was a slight improvement in quality. With all of this came the daily chore that required chairs and tables to be set out in the morning and for them all to be put away in the afternoon. A labour of Sisyphus.

IV. The Olavian Hymnal. Among the books issued to us in week one was ‘The Olavian Hymnal’: clearly this was our own thing. It had been in use since late Victorian times and over the years senior boys had added to it. Every margin contained a piece of original Latin or Greek verse. It was replaced, circa 1949, by ‘Songs of Praise’. We boys viewed this as a retrograde step: we were told that a) The Olavian Hymnal was too expensive to produce; b) it contained insufficient modern hymns to support our twice daily religious services.

It would have been charitable to let us keep our personal hymnals but instead they were collected up and I suspect they were pulped. What else could one do with six hundred used copies of a Victorian hymnal full of Greek verse? We were sorry to see it go. Something quite unique had been taken from us.

V. School Houses. New boys were seemingly arbitrarily allocated to one of six Houses. I was in Grenville: our House colour was green. The other Houses were: Drake, Burleigh, Howard, Sidney and Raleigh. Two years later I found myself in a new House, Harvard. The Elizabethan sea-captain regime had been introduced in 1908 and had therefore survived for forty years. The ‘new’ Houses have outlived them and have thus been shown to be more durable. We were sentimental about the loss of the old Houses but, on the whole, this change was well received. Operating with six houses in a three-form entry school was never particularly sensible.

VI. The Winter Game. In the winter of 1947/8 the whole school played Association Football. The following winter we were playing Rugby – many of us reluctantly. Many boys were unhappy with the change, but of course the change went through.

In that first year I remember playing football against Michael. He was a star footballer and before coming to the school had played representative football. I clearly recall him in his red shirt (which meant he was then in Drake and would later be in Cure) repeatedly carving his way through the Grenville defence – we had no answer. In that year, however, Drake did not have the best football team. Top dogs were Howard (blue shirts) whose team was formidable. I remember Terry playing alongside Ted Chuck. They were quite distinctive, for both had Boris Johnson coloured hair – though shorter and tidier than BoJo’s. Michael, who became School High Jump champion when only sixteen, vied with Ted to be the best athlete of our year. Ted though was the best athlete of our year: he excelled at football and later would show exceptional talent in basketball, Rugby (as a fly half), fives, and cricket. Over the years we have tried manfully to track him down. We have accessed some formidable data bases but Ted has remained elusive. News of him would be gratefully received.

The official reason given for the change to Rugby was that it had become increasingly difficult to find fixtures for the First XI. No doubt that was true, but I suspect that the resultant efficiency savings also weighed heavily in the balance. We became a Rugby-playing school and we got used to it. Two years later Ted, Terry, Michael and I were playing in the Colts XV with Geoff Chapman as our mentor. Our membership of that team, even after so many years, is one of the glues that holds our friendship together. Forty years on – plus quite a lot.

VII. The School Badge. In 1947 the crown and axe badge was worn on both blazer and cap. The current badge was introduced about 1950: it was not welcomed. The cross, the crown, the axe we thought characterised Olaf with admirable simplicity - saint, king, warrior. The new badge we saw as being too fussy with an excess of detail and it lacked the originality and symbolism of that which it replaced. No-one ever explained the reason for the change but, like some of the other changes, this one resulted in something that has the air of permanency about it. Who today would contemplate changing it?

VIII. Examinations. In 1947, as for many, many years previously, grammar school pupils tackled School Certificate at the age of sixteen and Higher School Certificate at eighteen. In 1952 I sat the GCE O-level examinations: we were only the second cohort to tackle this new exam, and we were allowed to take only eight academic subjects. In those early days the exams were very taxing - the bar had been set quite high and failure rates were considerable - even among Olavians.

Of all the changes discussed above, this was the only one to have been imposed from the outside.

One supposes that the work associated with the introduction of O and A-levels resulted in a huge burden being placed on teachers but we were unaware of it.

So much then for all the changes. Changes there were but so much more remained unchanged and unchanging. Certain things characterised the school: significant from the schoolboy’s perspective were the discipline and the work ethic. Under Carrington, discipline was strict and corporal punishment commonplace. It was often used for quite trivial offences. In my second year I failed to hand in a routine geography homework, my first such offence. Carrington gave me six of the best: he laid them on hard so that more than twenty-four hours later I could still feel the grooves across my backside. The fact is that punishment like that concentrates the mind wonderfully, and for the rest of my school career I never missed another deadline.

Over the years I have witnessed many a discussion on corporal punishment and often the most vocal of the protagonists seem to be people who have never been on the receiving end. How silly, to me that seemed a bit like virgins being prescriptive about sex. Today there is no longer any debate; corporal punishment is universally condemned, but back then we were philosophical. It was a fact of life and I surmise that most of us would have opted for ‘the whack’ and endured the transient pain rather than be subjected to a detention or an imposition. Detention after school was given for minor infractions such as fooling around in class. I once got a Saturday morning detention for being seen exiting Plumstead Station not wearing my cap.

It might be thought that such harsh discipline might sap a boy’s spirit. I think it had precisely the opposite effect: we developed a resolute ‘We can take it’ attitude as epitomised by Geoghegan (pronounced Gaygun, if you were wondering) who once got Saturday morning detention every week for a whole term.

As to the work ethic, it is true we were all required to work hard all of the time - and many did. Each day was split into eight forty-minute periods. First years were set three thirty-minute homeworks each night, but it was rare for the assigned tasks to be completed within the allotted time. My friends at other schools got off more lightly and were tasked with two thirty-minute homeworks each night. With us a lot of work was set and, to give the teaching staff their due, it was always returned pretty swiftly. By today’s standards the staff/pupil ratio was high, so marking loads, with typically thirty-three boys to a class, would have been heavy.

Whilst talking of working hard, mention must be made of Miss Cook. She was a graduate and was, by nature, rather shy and retiring: her job title was ‘Headmaster’s Secretary’ but, given that we had no telephonists, no receptionists, no clerks, no administrators it was she, all alone, housed in a small office just to the right of the Main Entrance, who kept the administrative wheels turning. How she managed all that I’ll never know. It was a most remarkable feat.

There were some things which I am sure would be surprising to today’s Olavians. Fountain pens were prohibited. There was no need to ban ballpoint pens - nobody in the school owned one. Back then Laszlo Biro’s patents were still valid and his were the only ballpoints available. His company’s marketing strategy was to treat this new pen as a luxury good, an expensive present for somebody. A biro retailed for something over 55 shillings (£2.75). With that sort of money one could purchase eleven hard back Biggles books or one could go to the cinema once a week for a year or more. Biros were beyond our means.

Carrington believed that the springy nature of the simple steel nib was conducive to good handwriting. It was true that such pens could produce the thick and thin lines necessary in calligraphy, but one was obliged to recharge the pen after every two or three words. Each dip in the inkwell risked another blot on one’s work. Another straw poll I took of my friends at other South London grammar schools suggested that STOGS was the only one enforcing a fountain-pen ban. As pupils we were quick to circumvent this ruling. In Woolworth’s for a very few pence one could buy reservoir nibs: such nibs fitted the simple penholders we used and they had the writing characteristics of a fountainpen nib. On the underside of each nib was a small metal arrangement that stored ink. One dip in an inkwell and it was possible to write one or even two complete sentences without the need to replenish the ink. In common with all of my peers I used such a nib until I left school. We all observed the letter of the law but nonetheless managed to subvert Carrington’s plan.

Current Olavians, I think would smile if they could see the 1947 intake arriving at school. We were, on average, smaller and markedly thinner than today’s eleven year olds. About ninety per cent of us wore short trousers and some boys would continue to do so throughout their third year at the school. Also people today looking at us in Assembly would be surprised by the great variety of clothing worn. Clothes rationing was extant and uniform regulations were not enforced. We were a motley crew. I never got to wear a uniform until my second year and John Unsworth, in my class for five years, never ever wore uniform. An early memory I have is of Michael Pugh: now he is a prominent member of The 40’s Group, then he was School Captain. Daily he turned up wearing a well-cut, double-breasted, grey- pinstripe suit. In my mind’s eye I can still see him walking along Tooley Street carrying a leather briefcase, wearing the suit and with a really ancient school cap perched on his head. It sent out a rather mixed sartorial message. I wonder now whether Michael remembers that suit.

In winding up these school reminiscences I turn to the masters and the teaching. It has already been noted that they were a conscientious lot and they were for the most part well-qualified. I suspect none had formal teaching qualifications: back then graduates were allowed to enter the teaching profession without being taught how to teach. It appeared to be a case of them teaching us as they themselves had been taught. The teaching style tended to be pretty didactic. No-one sought to try to empathise with us and no one went in for ‘learning by discovery’. We were taught the facts: Gradgrind would have found nothing to complain about. How much time they spent worrying about learning outcomes or lesson plans I really don’t know. All I can say is that a great many lessons began with “Open up to Chapter

4 of Latin for Today (or Deutsches Leben or Alderton Pink or whatever)” - Pink’s book was on English Grammar. We would work through these books at the rate of about a chapter per week doing the exercises and learning the vocabulary when appropriate.

Mainly it was chalk and talk - no language laboratories, no computers or calculators, no photo-copied notes, no overhead projectors and a general absence of other visual aids. There was an ancient epidiascope that was sometimes put into use but even in a darkened room the pictures were never clear. I suppose the old saying applies: “What you’ve never had, you never miss”. One way or another we got there in the end.

What’s gone before is what I have to say about the school and the changes I saw there. I’d like to finish with some brief comments about what was happening in the outside world whilst my head was buried in one textbook or another.

“ May you live in interesting times”, a Chinese sage once said. Few will dispute that the years 1947 to 1952 were ‘interesting times’. The years immediately after the war were years of high taxation, privation and shortages as, wearied by war, the country sought to rebuild itself. The Labour Party was in power and with socialist zeal they began to nationalise everything in sight. By 1947 already the coal industry and the Bank of England had come into state ownership. Next we saw electricity generation, railways, canals and waterways, road haulage, and finally iron and steel production become nationalised and controlled from Whitehall while, in 1948, we saw the birth of the NHS. By the time Labour left office the pound sterling had been devalued and some twenty per cent of our economy was in the hands of the state. Apart from this restructuring of our economy other things were happening.: we had the Second London Olympic Games and on the Southbank we had the Festival of Britain with its Skylon and Dome of Discovery. In the Summer of 1952 we said goodbye to trams and their going changed the face of London. To no-one’s surprise Attlee lost an election and Churchill returned to Downing Street. The king died and we entered a new Elizabethan age.

Overseas, tensions mounted as the sides in the Cold war became more polarised and the Berlin Airlift followed. In the Far East the French got a drubbing in Indo-China and Britain committed her armed forces to the war in Korea. The Indian sub-continent emerged from British rule and China’s civil war came to an end with a communist victory. The winds of change (of which Harold MacMillan was later to speak) had begun to blow through Africa and back home the first waves of immigrants from the Caribbean were settling in London.

I left St Olave’s to enter this changing world: I passed an open examination to secure a student apprenticeship with the Ministry of Defence. This led to me becoming a chartered engineer and subsequently I worked in that capacity until my retirement. thunderstorms forecast pretty much all week, driving rain battering our windows and a spring in our steps, we set forth from our homes on the designated Sunday morning in August with a chirpy whistle on our lips. Sadly we had not been able to secure a Sunday fixture due to most cricket clubs in Devon being involved in Sunday leagues and cup games, so we’d decided to play a bit of golf at Starcross instead. By the time we met in the Anchor Inn for lunch the sky was mostly blue, the sun was mostly warm and we were feeling more optimistic about the week ahead. One topic of conversation was our change of hotel to the Cavendish this year, and another was that they would be filming the new season of the Channel 4 TV series “The Hotel” there all week, and wondering who of our merry band may find themselves on the small screen come February when the show is due out.

I was grateful to the school for what she gave to me. The knowledge and the good work habits I learned there served me well over the years. I know my friends Michael and Terry, although they followed very different career paths, echo these views.

Dick Haylett (1947-52)

Clubs And Societies

Old Olavians’ Masonic Lodge No. 5051

The 75th Anniversary of the founding of our Lodge was celebrated in March 2014 at a special meeting at Freemasons Hall, Great Queen Street, attended by several senior members of the Metropolitan Grand Lodge of London. Over sixty members and guests enjoyed a superb meal afterwards at the Imperial Hotel, Russell Square.

Why not find out more about us? We meet only four times a year so we don’t take up too much of a busy person’s time, but we like to feel that membership of our organisation is both satisfying and worthwhile. We are always ready to speak to those wanting to learn more about Freemasonry and, in particular, the work we do to raise money for Charity (our principal objective). Naturally former pupils, current or past staff and governors and, of course, parents associated with our school are particularly welcome.

Anyone interested in learning more can contact the current secretary - Peter G Hudson OBE, 9 Downs View Close, Pratts Bottom, Orpington, Kent, BR6 7SU. His telephone number is 01689 858583. He will be happy to meet you for a chat and will answer any queries you have.

Peter Hudson

OLD OLAVIAN CRICKET TOUR - SOUTH DEVON 2014

With hurricane Bertha ravaging most of the country,

At the picture-postcard Sidmouth ground the next day there were a few threatening masses of grey clouds rolling around in the heavens as the game got under way, but they thankfully missed us almost completely throughout the game. Sidmouth batted first as usual. There was a faint air of concern about the OO bowling resources, as two of our scheduled bowling line-up had proved unable to tour at the last minute. Jay Patel opened and immediately started hitting the proverbial handkerchief with every delivery. Wicket-keeper-come-pace-merchant Peter White took the cherry at the other end and, after a few loosening overs (he probably hadn’t bowled since the last tour), settled down nicely also. The Sidmouthians weathered the new ball however, and began to look more comfortable. Captain Ian Giles took over from Jay (after his excellent spell of five overs for six runs) to spice things up a little, and struck in his first over, removing L Bess for 17 courtesy of a good stretching slip catch from old compadre Chris Swadkin. Reinvigorated, Pete White took a couple of wickets at the other end, one bowled and another Swadkin catch. Then there was a good run-out, and all of a sudden the home team were in trouble at 48 for four and the Olavians found themselves in one of those happy trance-like periods of play where everything you do ends up well. Lance Giles replaced White and floated a horrendous no-ball full-toss that was swatted for six by opening bat Mansfield. This was followed by another rank ball pulled for four. Then Giles Jnr managed to actually land one that nipped away quite nicely and took Mansfield’s off-stump, who was probably surprised by the contrast from the previous deliveries. The two Gileses kept things tight for a bit, as did the Swad when he came on for a twirl. Lance bowled another batsman, reducing Sidmouth to 81 - 6, and Dave Colloff came on and hit the spot as well. Tim Drake had come in at number 7 and started a valiant rearguard action. He took a liking to Prevan’s off-spin and biffed him on the leg side for a few fours and a six, and managed to power his side up to 126 before Colloff rattled his stumps as he attempted another heave (after scoring a vital 42). We then found out that Sidmouth were a player short so we only had to take one more wicket. We also realised that the last pair who were at the crease were in fact the two young colts who had been knocking a ball around in the nets before the game, oblivious to the fact they were about to be called up to play in the most important game of the year. Perhaps this, joined with the euphoria of our rather make-shift bowling attack running through the vaunted home batting line-up with such comparative ease, led to a collective foot-off-thegas situation for the tourists, as the two youngsters played with skill that belied their diminutive stature. They put on another 25 runs before one fell to a run-out (which looked the best chance of us getting a wicket, to be honest).

The 151 runs that Sidmouth got in 47 overs look eminently gettable at tea, and the excellent scones were passed around with a jaunty panache on the tourists’ table. Beware the jaunty scone, I now warn future generations who may read this and in some way benefit from a warning from the past. Sidmouth regulars Drake and Claydon opened the bowling tightly and had the visiting batsmen playing and missing fairly regularly. James Hubbard, who traded almost purely in fours in his previous knock here three years before, ended a watchful innings without troubling the scorers. Sage Nayanah Rajh and his son Prev consolidated, and things were beginning to look rosy again at 57 for one. Then disaster struck. Both were out with the score on 57, followed immediately by our next star bat Jay for a quacker. There was a brief lull in the procession of batsmen, and Sidmouth pulled off the star captaincy move of bringing on one of their smallish colts to toss a few up. L Giles quickly succumbed chipping a catch to extra-cover, and Pete White perished in similar fashion. Colloff, Roots, Swadkin and Giles Snr all passed swiftly in and out again (the quickish Murray taking four wickets in total) and the OOs subsided to a dispiriting 90 all out, the first time this writer can remember us not reaching 100 in a timed game unaffected by weather. It was a disappointing result. In slight mitigation of our performance, the required run-rate was probably a factor in some of the shot selections, since we would have faced seven overs less than the home side if we’d survived them all. It was definitely a game that had been there for the taking, however, and we firmly resolved to do better the next day.

To end on a sunnier note, the OO supporters had been entertained during some of the collapse by a memorable chat between Rhianjali Giles (age 5) and Jay Patel (age 22 1/2). One exchange went like this:

R: Rebecca and I can’t find our loom bands.

J: Why don’t you look for them together?

R: Why?

J: Because then you’ll have more chance of finding them, because you’ll have four eyes.

R (exasperated): But I don’t have four eyes!

A short while later, after Rhianji had repeatedly corrected Jay on a number of topics such as how the remote control to the scorebox was not magic, it worked by sending signals by electronics, and how Winnie the Pooh did not actually exist, Jay sought to change the subject and inquired, “Have you lost any teeth yet?”, which probably came out a bit more Goodfellas-style than he intended.

Sandford had had a bit of rain during the night, and on Tuesday morning we were quoted a 20 to 40% chance of being able to play. Free-wheeling mavericks as we Old Olavians are, we fancied those odds and set off for the ground, stopping for lunch in the Beer Engine as usual. On arrival at the ground itself, it did prove to be pretty damp, but the sun was warm when there weren’t any clouds in the way and there was a steady breeze to help dry things out, so we arranged a 30-over game and hoped the heavens would behave themselves. Pete White was promoted to bowl the first over of the innings, which turned out to be skipper L Giles’ best decision as he struck with his third legitimate ball, inducing R Glass to pop it up to Lance at extra-cover. Jay Patel put in another steady spell at the other end (4 overs 1 for 7) and after eight overs the OOs were reasonably satisfied at containing Sandford to 28 runs. Spin twins Chris Ruddle and Stuart Taylor came on and, after an over each to settle down, started bowling well on the still dampish wicket. Both proved hard to get away and both took a wicket in their third overs; Stuart taking a stinging catch behind square off Ruddle to dismiss their overseas pro and then bowling the other batsman himself. Another batsman was run out rather suicidally, and the OOs found themselves once again putting in a sterling effort in the field. Sandford always have plenty of batsmen though, and Van Wyk (43) and Filor (28) began to set about the spinners as the innings ticked into the final ten overs. Ian ‘Jonty’ Giles was brought on and the evergreen swinger promptly removed both batsmen to catches from Taylor and Prev, and Jay Patel returned for his final two overs at the other end and bowled out one batsman. This happened to be an especially timely wicket, as he was miked up at the time and being filmed by the Channel 4 people who had dropped by for half an hour to record some of the game in case they found it useful to use in their show. Hopefully Jay managed to refrain from whooping anything too indelicate in celebration, or he may have missed his chance to take a wicket on national TV. Ian caught and bowled the no11 and the OOs were set 152 to win.

OO openers Sage and Prev put on a fine opening stand of 48 in nine overs before Prev (19) was out caught. Pete White came in and played the supporting role well as Sage struck a succession of imperious fours down the ground. Opening his shoulders for a good four and a massive six of his own, White became a little too adventurous and launched another ball into the atmosphere which didn’t quite clear long-off and he departed for 18. Lawrence Roots replaced him and played assuredly and shrewdly, collecting ones and twos in a good partnership that almost put the game safe until Sage was out bowled by Van Wyk for a classy 80 with nine runs still required. Greg Giles strode to the crease for his first innings in ten years and his extended family all looking on. Van Wyk came storming up to the crease and sent down a big full toss. Greg put a big stride in and it hit him on the knee. Up went Jasper Gundry-White’s finger. Up went the howls of derision from the crowd. Back came Greg. The only solace was that the camera crew had disappeared by then. Lance replaced his brother and got a juicy half-volley outside off-stump which he managed to hit for four which Greg no doubt looked a little wistfully at, and Lawrence knocked off the last two runs to finish on 21 and win the game with ten balls left. The tourists had redeemed themselves from yesterday and proudly received the Stan Newell trophy for this year from their most friendly of opponents.

Torquay professed to have assembled an average side to face us in the Wednesday fixture, but this didn’t stop them having two overseas pros and another first team bat in their line-up. The home side batted first and Marrow got off to a flyer, hitting L Giles for 19 in the second over bowled. Figuring the batsman rather had his number, Lance sagely volunteered himself for an early blow and skipper Dave Colloff bravely put himself in the firing-line to dangle the carrot. DC fared a bit better, but neither he nor White at the other end could stop the leak of runs as Marrow took advantage of the short boundary on one side to mow a few balls over the ropes. Pete took a wicket, but by the twelfth over Torquay had already reached 107 for one and were making batting look easy-peasy. The ever-dependable Ian Giles was called into the attack and he managed to slow the run-rate down, and Prev came on at the other end. After being hit for a few in his first over Prev found his length and a bit of shape and got a wicket in his second, Francis LBW for 35. He struck again in his third over with an excellent quicker lifter and a smart stumping from Roots (man out F. Iqbal, who apparently is on the fringes of a Pakistan A-team in some in his last over, and Prev finished his eight overs, leaving the opposition on 166 for seven, but with the dangerous Marrow still there. Mr Incredible Stuart Taylor came on to bowl his looping leggies. His first solitary over had been blasted for 14 by Francis, but he found his length nicely now, beating the bat several times and often totally bemusing the batsmen with his spinny repertoire (and one quicker one). Lance Giles was brought back for his second

Torquay Cricket Club spell too, which Marrow obviously didn’t mind at all. He hit him for a four, then a six, then another four, and then aimed another one over cow-corner and got bowled, much to everyone’s relief. Prev took a good catch off Stuart at the other end, and the last man was run out. Torquay finished on 195 off 36 overs, which was a lot less than it had looked like being at one point.

Prev and James Hubbard opened up the second innings. Prev may well be on the county books for his year group but he wouldn’t have met too many opening bowlers like Terry King, who has been playing for Torquay for about fifty years I believe. He snicked Terry’s fourth slow drifter to the keeper to get his first tour duck. With James only improving on his score from two days before by a factor of two runs, the OOs were off to a slightly shaky start. New batsmen Lawrence Roots and Greg Giles would have been forgiven a period of quiet consolidation, but they did not need it. Both immediately started striking fours handsomely. Greg’s poise and confidence were visibly improving with each over, and he began unfurling some of his trademark square-cuts and kneeling hooks that hadn’t been seen on tour (or, indeed, anywhere) for a decade. Roots at the other end was playing like a man possessed, as sweetly-struck four after four pinged off the middle of his bat in a succession of lovely cover-drives. With the score reaching 125 off 21 overs, Torquay turned to their fastest bowler Pugh to make a break-through. He succeeded, trapping Greg LBW for 32 very popular runs. Chris Ruddle came out to join his good friend Lawrence, who carried on playing sublimely until Pugh had him caught ten runs short of a deserved century. Ruddle swiftly joined him back in the shed, and the OOs were fifty runs shy of their target with six wickets down and ten overs left. Still kind of format), and OO heads began to lift again. Gilesy then came to the party with three wickets in one unplayable over (one caught by Roots and two bowled) and Torquay were suddenly 143 for six. Ian bowled another batsman quite gettable, you would assume, but here the tourists performed their second collapse of the week. Terry was brought back to lob his gentle in-drifters, and a succession of OO batsmen went all funny-headed. The wickets went: LBW, caught mid-off, stumped and bowled to gift King a five-for. Taylor was left unconquered at the end, with the OOs all out for 171 with three overs left. Rather a shame we couldn’t have got closer to the total and built to an exciting climax, but on reflection it was still a better showing than it had looked like being after the first twelve overs when Marrow had been making hay. The regular Wednesday quiz that night back in the hotel governed by the unparalleled Terry Smith certainly cheered us all up again anyway.

The sun was beaming down again as we pulled into South Devon’s ground in Newton Abbott the next day. The OOs batted first. Prev and James marched to the crease again, both with a score to settle from the day before. They both got off the mark in the first over, and proceeded to put on a good opening partnership, Prev hitting his stride immediately and James easing into his as he began to feel more at home at the wicket. With the score on 60 after ten overs Prev was out caught. Rob Chapman replaced him for his first innings in several years. Sadly in the next over a calamitous yes/no/what/sorry situation saw Rob trudging back to the pavilion, having been run out without adding to his career run total and having achieved a score seemingly obligatory for OO batsmen returning to tour cricket after a few years’ absence. Derek Birmingham kept Hubbard company for a little while before he was out just as he was finding his touch, and shortly afterwards James fell for a fine 54. The remaining batsmen all chipped in a few to bring the OOs to 166 all out with an over left to go.

The bounce of the wicket was just as unpredictable as is usually the case at Newton Abbott, and the tourists were optimistic of defending the total, especially considering the number of young faces in the home team. Skipper Pete White manfully put himself in for another opening salvo, this time with Dave Colloff partnering him from the other end. Both bowled well, and DC soon became practically unplayable as he zeroed in on a good length with a bit of varied bounce and swing. Pete got the first wicket, but Colloff followed that with a spell of four wickets in three overs, all bowled. Rob Chapman took a turn from the tennis court end and looked like he’d never been away, taking a wicket in his second over courtesy of a catch by Rashalen Nayanah Rajh behind the stumps. With South Devon reeling on 39 for six, Steve Parsons (relieved of his umpiring coat for the day) was brought on with his arsenal of mystery balls to show that we were not just a bunch of seamers. He took a wicket in his first over. Kittoe (30) was batting well but couldn’t find anyone to stay with him, and the remaining wickets were shared between Gileses L and I, and finally Kittoe himself was out caught and bowled by the returning Colloff to give him his five-for. The OOs won by 84 runs and we had time for a swift pint in the clubhouse before hurrying back for the annual tour dinner. This was masterfully compered by Paul Chapman, with Ray Michael taking on Brian Cantle’s usual role (as Brian and Penny were sadly not able to tour this year) and giving us the run-down of the week so far and distributing memorable novelty items to anyone deserving of some ribbing through their actions during the week. Much guffawing ensued.

And so to the last day, with everyone a little wistful that we wouldn’t be staying down in Devon for another week, but fairly shattered after getting through quite a bit during the week. Most of the tourists decided to leave for Teignmouth a little earlier than normal so we could have a mosey around the town, as it was a nice day and many hadn’t really been back there (apart from visiting the Ship for lunch) since the tour moved base to Torquay some years before. The whole place had changed remarkably little; it was still a cosy, pretty seaside village with good crab sandwiches.

Up at Kenn we were sad to hear that Pete Murfin wouldn’t be joining us that day, as he wasn’t feeling very well. Plenty of other familiar faces took the field against us though, as new opening partners Rob Chapman and Steve Parsons took guard. They put on 28 for the first wicket before Steve was run out valiantly aiming to increase the run-rate. Greg Giles was next in, but unfortunately got an absolute snorter of a ball that reared up and had him caught (off Pete Murfin’s grandson Jimmy). Rob had remembered by now what this batting lark was all about and was striking it handsomely, and Rash came in and carried on in exactly the same vein. He looked solid and played some gorgeous cover-drives before he was out for 37 with the score on 89. Rob carried on stroking fours until eventually falling for 62. Swaddy came in at number 6 and belted the ball all around the park and looked in fine fettle for his 58 runs, and Sage had a brief cameo at number 8, booming 29 runs in four overs to take the tourists to 224 for 8.

It was a formidable total, made all the more challenging by accurate opening spells from Dave Colloff and Lance Giles, who both took a wicket to leave Kenn on 24 for two after ten overs. Greg Giles came on first change, but his off-spin took a little longer to return than his batting after his long

Sidmouth 151 all out (47.5 overs)

OOs 90 all out (31.4 overs)

Tues 12th August v Sandford (30 overs)

WON by 6 wickets

Sandford 154 al out (27 overs)

OOs 155 for 4 (28 overs)

Wed 13th August v Torquay (40 overs)

LOST by 24 runs

Torquay 195 all out (36 overs)

OOs 171 all out (37 overs) lay-off, although he did take a wicket, possibly his first of the 21st century! Prev and Parsons both put in spells too, Stephen picking up one wicket LBW, and Rob and Rash also had a trundle and got a wicket apiece. Swaddy was once again the star turn, though, and the wily skipper finished with 3.4 overs 4 wickets for 18 runs. Kenn were all out with five overs remaining, and the OOs won by 72 runs.

Teignmouth Back Harbour from the Ship Inn

So that was it for another year. Given the weather forecast at the start of the week we were overjoyed to have got all five games in. Each player shone at some point during the week, and hearty back-slaps must go to the players who ended up playing every game, after a couple of lastminute dropouts from the tour party had reduced our player rotation options. Many thanks must go to our stoic umpires Stephen and Jasper, and to everyone who scored during the week, especially Janet Birmingham (who was another longlost tourist making a very welcome return after a number of years), and to Dave Colloff who took on the role of Tour Banker at short notice and did an excellent job. Thanks also to all the other tourists not mentioned already who helped make it such a fun and friendly week, namely; Linda Bolter, Sharon Nayanah Rajh (especially since we deprived her of her whole family practically every day), Ed Davey and Rosemary, Jackie Childe, Janet and Amanda Colloff, all the Hubbards - Clare, Carol, Malcolm, Rebecca and William, all the other Gileses - Pennie, Nina, Alexandra and Rhianjali, Geraldene and Bruce Taylor, and Jo Swadkin.

If any reader is interested in finding out more about the club, please drop me an email or have a look at our facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/oldolavianscricketclub

Results

Mon 11th Augsut v Sidmouth (timed game)

LOST by 61 runs

Thurs 14th August v South Devon (40 overs) WON by 83 runs

OOs 166 all out (38 overs)

South Devon 83 all out (30 overs)

Fri 15th August v Kenn (40 overs) WON by 72 runs

OOs 224 for 8 (40 overs)

Kenn 152 all out (35 overs)

Lance Giles (1988-95) lancegiles@hotmail.com

OLD OLAVIANS’ ETON FIVES CLUB

Another very enjoyable and successful year for the Fives club!

The Saturday morning open club sessions saw a good number of players coming back into the game having recently left university, as well as enabling occasional visits from “seasoned” players such as Darrell Woods, Tom MacDonald and Dave Eames. One particular highlight of the Saturday Fives was the visit from Ray Toomey who was on a brief visit to Europe from Australia where he has lived for many years. Ray was a member of the 1970 Old Olavian team which won the Barber Cup for the first time. It was really fantastic to see Ray and he was invited back for lunch and a tour of the school later in the week by the Headmaster.

The school and Old Olavians continued their strong collaboration by competing in the league teams together, and by pairing up in both the Turnbull Trophy and the three-pair Richard Barber Cup. Both of these events were won by the Olavians! The Old Boys continued to dominate the sport at the highest level. Three of the four players in the Men’s National Championships and the Northern Championships finals were Olavians. Matthew Wiseman, James Toop and Sebastian Cooley featured in most finals, whilst Sebastian won them all in partnership with his non-Olavian partner. Fantastic achievements! Seb won his fourth successive Men’s Open title, as well as the London, Northerns and Mixed with his sister and fellowOld Olavian, Charlotta! Charlotta also won the National Ladies Championships.

The most important team event in Fives is the three-pair knock-out - the Alan Barber Cup. Howard Wiseman, Pauli Markkanen, Matt Wiseman, Seb Cooley and Peter White secured the eleventh consecutive win for the Old Olavians. This was the fourteenth win in the past fifteen years, and the sixteenth Barber Cup victory in the club’s History.

NEW FIVES COURTS - PLEASE SUPPORT US!

The school, as well as the Old Boys’ club, are an enormous force in the sport of Fives. With well over 130 team players in the school alone and a combined fixture list between the old boys and school of some eighty fixtures, there is considerable need for more courts! As a result, there are now firm plans to build four more courts, doubling our facilities in the process! The Headmaster has led the drive to get this project under way and his vision to use the courts as a borough-wide facility for girls’ Fives has attracted the additional support of the Eton Fives Association who have already made a generous donation towards the project and who have promised to fund-raise in order to give further support. Howard Wiseman will be co-ordinating the Olavian side of the fund-raising and would be delighted to hear from any Old Olavians who would be interested in making a donation of any size. Fives is the oldest sport in the school, having been a part of Olavian life for over one hundred years! We are extremely successful at it and the boys and girls, both present and past, at the school wave the Olavian flag on a regular basis, all over the country!

If you would like to help, Howard can be contacted on: hwiseman@aol.com

Howard Wiseman (1980-87)

OLD OLAVIANS’ NEWS

OLAVIANS 1940-2013

John TIFFNEY, MBE (1953-57) wrote: I read the article by Robin Dadson with much interest - it jogged lots of memories as I was at STOGS from 1953 - 1957 and shared many if not all his reminisences. The Old Olavian who was a thespian was Roy Mould who changed his name to Roy Marsden when he went into the Theatre - he played Inspector Adam Dalgleish in the TV series. The other well-known Old Olavian musician is Martin Carthy who is a regular on the BBC Sing Country radio programme.

My earliest memory is in Form 1B with AE WIlliams teaching us Latin and italic handwriting, I believe. I still write in italic script.

I also remember the Everett brothers who were joint-School Captains and very good athletes. I was proud to play cricket, rugby and fives for the school, and I have no regrets about my school years - indeed I am proud to have been an Olavian, and delighted that the School is performing so well at national level.

I now live in Cirencester and am enjoying retirement in the Cotswolds, still actively involved in various local activities including U3A and Nadfas, the National Trust and the GWR heritage railway.

Alan J WRIGHT (1936-42), one of our most loyal and prolific contributors over many years, sent the following article quite early in 2013, but it went astray and only reached the editorial desk in January 2014.

The photo above shows the members of the Classical Sixth with Mr HO Newmarch and Mr AH Rogers in July 1941. Most of the members were made prefects. John Henry and Eric Bamsey went to London University; the others secured places, although not all went, at Oxbridge.

Eric Bamsey (born 1923) contracted poliomyelitis when serving in the Royal Navy in the Far East. He became an architect after the war. The polio had crippled him and left him in poor health. He died before his fiftieth year.

Peter Tyler (born 1925) was trained for wartime Japanese intelligence work in England. After the war he did not take up his place at Oxford, but continued his intelligence work at Cheltenham. His son became a Cambridge Rugby blue.

Roger Hendrie (born 1925) was School Captain in the Michaelmas tern, 1942. He had good reasoning powers and a remarkable memory. He joined the RAF; he studied and then he became an instructor military Japanese for the RAF at London University. After the war he returned to New College, Oxford. Sadly he ‘burned out’ before his finals, and died before he was fifty.

John Henry (born 1924) spent his life in educational administration. He became a Chief Education Officer, and gave a talk at one of the Old Olavian dinners.

Peter Horsley (born 1925) went to Cambridge after the war, but I have no news of him thereafter.

Raymond Fenn (born 1923) became the pilot of a two-man Mosquito plane. His navigator was killed flying with another pilot. This clearly affected Raymond deeply, and he died, aged about seventy, on holiday in Scotland. His funeral, and his memorial service in London, were taken by David Wright (see below).

Alan Wright (born 1925) joined the RAF, where he learnt military Japanese. He spent the rest of the war on field intelligence in India and Burma. He took part in the reoccupation of Hong Kong. After Oxford he became Solicitor for the Trades Union Conference, and thereafter became a High Court Master.

Norman Murray (born 1923) was School Captain 194142. He volunteered for the Royal Navy, but died of tetanus shortly after leaving school.

John Northam (born 1922) was School Captain 1940-41. After a year at Clare College, Cambridge, he was sent to Oxford to learn modern Greek, with a view to liaison with Greek partisans. He was a wartime Oxford Soccer blue. After the war he returned to Cambridge, read English, and became a don at Clare College. After some years he became a Professor in Australia.

Kenneth Leary (born 1922) went to Cambridge, but I have no news of him after he left university.

David Wright (born 1923) went up to Keble College for a year (1941-42): he then joined the RAF, was trained as a pilot, and became a flying instructor. After the war he finished his degree, and then taught at Aberdeen University for a couple of years. He then entered the Church, and spent most of his life as a Minister in Scotland. At the age of 89, he still takes some services.

At the end of September 2014 Alan Wright wrote again reminding the School that Monday 13th October would be the 75th anniversary of the School’s move to Torquay. The School had been moved to Uckfield under the Government scheme in early September 1939. There were no educational facilities in Uckfield so Dr Carrington decided to move to a site with better facilities: Torquay was chosen since it had a modern Grammar School.

A special train was obtained which took some three hundred boys and masters from Uckfield to Torquay via the Sussex coast, the north of Southampton and Exeter. Parts of the route have now gone.

We arrived in Torre station (a mile east of Torquay station) at about eight o’clock in the evening - it was raining heavily. A list of “billets” had been prepared and we were taken to our new homes by Torquay volunteers in their cars. Keith Hobbs and I were sent to a house in Babbacombe.

There cannot be many survivors of this trip - I am 89, and the youngest must be at least 82. Keith Hobbs died in 2001, and I went to his funeral. Some of those who were on that trip lost their lives in the War - I remember especially Fred Jackson whose plane was lost in the Atlantic; and Eric Barnsey whose life was shortened by sickness during war service. Many Olavians, including myself, joined up for war service from Devon recruiting centres.

We owe a debt of gratitude to Torquay Grammar School and Mr Harmer, their Head. They used the buildings from 9am until 1pm while StOGS used them before 1.20pm until 5pm, and on Saturday mornings.

In Memoriam

Sydney R FENNING (1935-40) died on 5th February 1914 at the age of 89 after a long spell in hospital where he had been fighting pneumonia.

Barry LANGLEY (1956-63) died early in September 2013: we first heard this sad news from a friend. We have since heard from his wife, Pam Langley, who tells us that Barry thoroughly enjoyed his time at St Olave’s, and it was interesting to read the article about the Fifties (per Robin Dadson) - I had heard so much about Dr Carrington, whom Barry thought was always fair, although strict, especially when he (Barry) climbed up and put something unmentionable on the roof of the school, and then had to retrieve it before the whole school lost a day’s holiday. Barry was a Fellow of the Royal Institution of Chartered Surveyors, and Arbitrator and Expert Witness in building disputes. He also loved his cars and was an international rally driver in the seventies; and he loved his Jaguar as well as his 1931 Austin 7 which he took every year to the Revival at Goodwood.

In addition Barry was licensed as a Lay Reader in the Church of England in 1976 and was a committed member of the College of Readers, Forward in Faith, the Confraternity of the Blessed Sacrament, and the Society of Our Lady of Walsingham. He died in September 2013, having been diagnosed with lung cancer fifteen months earlier. Mrs Langley writes that she misses him very much, as she is sure will all his school friends.

John G LUCKING (1934-39) died on Boxing Day 2013. We are grateful to his son-in-law, Forbes Forrai, for sending the following tribute: It is with great sadness that we report the death of John Lucking at the age of exactly 90 years and 1 month. John attended St Olave’s until 1940. Unfortunately, we do not know much about his time at the school, but he always had a soft spot for it and was very interested in the development of the school, reading the annual magazine thoroughly.

After school, John joined GRE as an insurance clerk. However, he was called up in September 1942 and assigned to the Royal Artillery in October of that year. He was attached to 152 battery of the 51st (London) Heavy AntiAircraft Regiment. He served as part of the 8th Army, first in North Africa and then in Italy. He also spent some time in Vienna, guarding the former Nazi HQ. He was awarded five medals: the 1939-45 Star, Africa Star, Italy Star, Defence Medal and War Medal

His release papers describe his military conduct as “exemplary” and the following testimony speaks volumes about John’s character: “This man is a keen and conscientious worker, who can be relied on to work well without constant supervision. He has had a wide experience of administration. He is loyal to his superiors, and is a good mixer. He is sober and honest, and is clean in habit and in appearance.”

He was de-mobbed in July 1947 and returned to the world of insurance with GRE. He stayed with GRE until he took early retirement in 1980. Latterly he worked at the company’s office in Gants Hill, taking the train from his home in Leigh-on-Sea to Barking and then walking (one of his favourite pastimes) the two to three miles each morning and evening to Gants Hill. He fondly remembers spending many lunchtimes enjoying the nearby Valentine’s Park.

In 1960, John met his future wife, Pat, at a dance. They married in 1961 and their first born, Andrew, arrived in December 1962. Sadly, Andrew died only three months later. Happily, two daughters, Angela and Fiona, arrived over the following two years. John felt immense love and pride for his growing family. He was a very keen photographer and thankfully recorded his family growing up.

On his retirement, John extended his interests in gardening, photography, music, especially the sounds of big bands, Radio 4, reading and recording daily events in his diaries, bird-watching, stamp-collecting, weather-recording, slide collections and now with a Cairn terrier called Roger in tow, long walks all over Leigh. Such was his love of walking that John was never happier than retracing his childhood haunts around south London. He was also able to travel to the USA, touring the east and west coasts.

After his daughters’ marriages, four grandchildren came into his life and John spent many an hour singing to his grandchildren, watching their TV programmes and simply being around to be called ‘granddad’.

With the turn of the millennium both John and Pat began to suffer increasing health problems and unfortunately by 2010 they decided to move to a nearby care home. They celebrated their Golden Wedding Anniversary there. John’s health began to fail around Easter 2013 and he was confined to bed until his death on Boxing Day. However, he was always pleased to welcome you to his room and, being the gentleman he was, thanked you for coming. Right up to the end, he was a model patient, always polite. One incident at the hospital is a prime example: the ward sister told us that he thanked her for giving him an injection!

Although a quiet man, he was a true gentleman with values to be looked up to. He had a very wide variety of interests and was keen to share this knowledge.

Sadly his wife, Pat, died very recently at the end of June 2014. He is survived by his two daughters and four grandchildren.

Geoffrey Layton SCULLARD (1933-39) died on 15th March 2014. Jane Wells received the news from Geoff’s daughter, Helen, and she goes on to tell us that “he was in the diplomatic corps and served in many embassies as something to do with all the arranging of grand dinners and visits by royalty. He received an OBE. He came to a few Forties group lunches and OO reunions. A jolly nice chap and fun to sit next to as he had a wealth of anecdotes”.

Helen has written her own tribute, a condensation of the eulogy spoken at Geoff’s funeral in June: Geoff was born in Lambeth on 5 July 1922, the youngest of three children of William Scullard (a carpenter) and his wife Eleanor (née Tomkin), a nurse. He was proud to be a Cockney.

He attended Peckham Central School until 1935, when he won a junior county scholarship to St Olave’s Grammar School, where he studied until July 1939. Having been brought up during the depression, during which his family had suffered periods of unemployment, he needed to take up paid employment as soon as possible in order to contribute to the family finances, so he did not have the opportunity for 6th form or university education. Later in his career, he was working as the equal of colleagues whose first question was: ‘Oxford or Cambridge?’ The reply of, ‘A grammar school in Southwark’, was sometimes disconcerting.

After an initial job in a furniture shop, he joined the Foreign Office in December 1939, at the age of 17. He had applied to the Civil Service expecting to find himself behind a post office counter, but they recognised his talents and had other plans for him.

He was called up into the RAF Signals service in June 1942 until September 1946, serving in Sierra Leone, Nigeria, India, Sri Lanka and Indonesia during the Second World War.

Before embarking on a troopship to Africa, he met his future wife, Cathie Pinington, at a dance in the Tower

Ballroom, Blackpool. She was working for the Civil Service Pensions Service, which had been evacuated from London to Blackpool. They agreed to write to each other as friends, but with no love letters.

They married during a short period of leave after the official end of the war, in August 1945. Their marriage was a long and very happy one, until Cathie’s death in 2003, at the age of 80. They celebrated their golden wedding anniversary in 1995 with an adventurous trip to Iceland.

Geoff re-joined the Foreign and Commonwealth Office in 1946, in which he had a long and distinguished career, with postings to Stockholm, Washington DC (twice) Baghdad, Los Angeles and Moscow, as well as four home postings. His specialism was as an administrative officer, but included working as an archivist, Commercial Consul and Head of Administration and Consul General in Moscow, then the same roles in Washington as his final overseas post. He was then head of the Accommodation and Services Department in London until his retirement from the FCO in August 1981. He was awarded the OBE in the New Year’s Honour list in 1971. As well as his foreign postings, he travelled widely on trade and inspection visits, during his periods of working in London.

His career involved a number of amazing experiences, including surviving the Baghdad revolution of 1957, when the British Embassy was burnt down by the rebels, being confirmed into the C of E in Baghdad by the Archbishop in Jerusalem (his childhood family had been Baptist), being awarded the freedom of the city of San Juan in Puerto Rico and being presented with a Pipe of Peace by the chief of an American Indian nation. He organised royal visits on three occasions, twice for HM The Queen and Prince Philip, and once for Princess Anne and Captain Mark Phillips; he treasured the signed photographs from each of them. He served in Moscow during the cold war of the 1970s, living in a bugged flat and supplied with a compulsory ‘maid’ who was actually a colonel in the KGB.

He had a long and active retirement, retaining links with the FCO and with the Old Olavians, attending several reunion events. He pursued his interests of fishing and golf, read avidly, enjoyed the theatre as well as classical and popular music and completed fiendishly difficult crossword puzzles. Life with Cathie was blissful until her long final illness, during which he cared for her devotedly.

Throughout his career and his life he was independentminded, holding strong opinions but always prepared to re-consider and listen to the views of others. He was scrupulously honest and truthful, a man of true integrity who never favoured friends or disfavoured opponents.

In 2006 his own health deteriorated and he chose to move into a care home. He remained active and independent almost to the last, using his bus pass to visit Guildford, organising concerts for other residents, reading the lesson at church services and regaling visitors, staff and residents with stories of his career and experiences. He retained a keen interest in national and international current affairs, offering astute analysis and commentary on items in the news.

Shortly before his death at the age of 91, he said that he had been an incredibly lucky person, had had a marvellous life, and would not have changed a thing, with his only regret that Cathie had not survived longer. How many of us can say that?

James W SIMS (1957-64) – George Snelgrove had been a close friend of Jim Sims since schooldays and has sent us this tribute. Jim was raised in Herne Hill, South East London, a very convenient location for access to the then St Olave’s sports ground at Green Dale. He made the journey to school via train from North Dulwich to London Bridge where, like many others, he straightened his tie and donned his cap before making the dash along Tooley Street. Whilst at St Olave’s Jim excelled at and represented the school at cross-country running and swimming. He was also an aficionado of the pop music scene of the early 1960s and introduced many of his school contemporaries to the likes of Chuck Berry, Fats Domino and Elvis Presley. In later years, he regularly attended the annual Old Olavians’ Society dinner.

Jim’s career was in hospital administration and he worked in the NHS for forty-one years. During this time, he was based in several major London hospitals and even managed to wangle a year’s secondment to the University Hospital of Chicago. In his early twenties, Jim married Judith and they had two children - James and Annette. On retiring from the NHS, Jim had more time to spend on his main hobbies – motor bikes and his love of driving. He got a part-time job delivering brand-new, expensive cars around Essex and found it incredibly funny that someone would actually pay him for doing it.

Privately, Jim was also an entertainer par excellence. He’d amuse family, friends and even unsuspecting pub customers with some incredible magic tricks. Part of his ‘act’ was to frequently get the tricks horribly wrong and then to fall about laughing at how apparently inept he was. He’d then perform the trick perfectly, amazing everyone. Jim was a great guy and a great mate who will be missed by a lot of people.

Muriel TAYLOR (née Hobbs) (St Saviour’s and St Olave’s Girls’ School - 1939-46) died in the spring of 2013. Alan J Wright has written with this sad news, and he tells us that, she was the sister of the late Keith Hobbs (1936-43).