N EWS F R O M A R O U N D THE W O R LD
1940-1949
Colin Neilson (Johnsons 48)
Recollections of the School Cadet Camp at RAF Station Thorney
Island in 1948 are still vivid. Those who had not assembled at
Sevenoaks met at Victoria. We were all in air force blue uniforms
and we disembarked somewhere in Hampshire where we were
assigned to a Polish corporal in RAF uniform. We clambered aboard
his truck. I sat in the front seat. He drove furiously in the middle of
the road with oncoming traffic peeling off in both directions. It was
a frightening experience. ‘I nevair haff accident,’ he declared proudly.
We were handed over at Thorney Island to an RAF sergeant with a
strong West Country accent. He lined us up in three ranks, gave us a
right turn and we marched. Suddenly he shouted. I was in the front
rank. We all looked at each other. Not understanding the order we
carried on marching. The sergeant became frenzied and foamed at
the mouth while he ranted in the broadest Wiltshire. Apart from his
tone we had not a clue what he was saying. When he had composed
himself he marched us on and delivered us to a cookhouse sergeant
who spoke in the dulcet tones of darkest Glasgow. Again, we found
him incomprehensible.
Above: Cricket match against The Beacon (now New Beacon),
25 May 1918
‘There are no more games this term so on half holidays we roll the cricket
pitch and get it ready for next term but the chances are that the soldiers
who are stationed here will play football on it and kick it all up during
the hols.’
Right: Leslie White, Alfred Cole and Stanley Morris by the steps up to
the Laboratory (now the Staff Common Room), 20 June 1918
‘I can’t remember that we had any bounds. We seemed to be free to go
where we pleased, chiefly in Knole Park. On Sundays we used to roam
about in the railway tunnel outside Sevenoaks at the risk of our young
lives and we also used to raid strawberry fields in the neighbourhood.’
Below right: John Finch, Sevenoaks High Street, 16 May 1918
‘Altogether Sevenoaks has had quite a lot of excitement this week.
Sunday night we had a nice little storm and the lightning was striking
the ground about a hundred yards from the school. Wednesday we
had General French down here reviewing some troops in Knole Park.
On Friday we had a little excitement from the air. It was only a few
miles away and we could hear the engines quite distinctly.’
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Most deeply etched is my encounter with a Polish general. My
great aunt Elinor had been most insistent that while in the vicinity
I look up some distant cousins called George and Gladys, whom
I had never met, and who lived in Southsea. This was a lot more
complicated than it seemed. It meant having to get a permit to
leave the RAF Station and to travel by three or four buses, one of
which was a rickety affair.
While striding through Southsea I was extremely aware that I
was wearing what looked like RAF uniform and that I must keep a
watchful eye for any officers I might encounter and salute them.
I saw advancing through the gloaming a figure in a uniform I did
not know. He wore a crimson jacket with much gold braid. Having
recently read of Popski’s Private Army I quickly decided that this was
a Polish general.
As we drew abreast I saluted smartly in classic drill hall style and
said: ‘Good evening, Sir.’ The Polish general responded by lifting a
stubby forefinger to the visor of his braided cap saying in aristocratic
Polski: ‘Ouaczrze met.’ I marched on and then realised he had not
spoken Polski at all. What he had said was ‘Wotcher, mate’. I had
just saluted the doorman of the Odeon Cinema.
Basil Gladwell (Hardinge 1949)
As a New Zealand citizen since 1953, I served with the RNZAF and
retired in 1982 as a Squadron Leader. I was then lucky enough to
take a public service position at the Open Correspondence Institute
of NZ, as registrar, and a number of other management positions,
retiring in July 2010. Now an 86-year-old, I still appreciate the Old
Sennockian news updates. How it has changed as a school! No more
‘boaters’ and no longer a boys’ school!
1950-1959
Brigadier John Skinner (Hardinge 52)
Like me, David Brancher (Fenton 46) known as ‘Twig’ Brancher
by school colleagues, lives in Abergavenny. He has recently acceded
to the age of 88, and keeps very well and active – a tribute to
his teenage tuition. I’m also in regular touch with Derek Morris
(Grote 53). Since retiring from New Zealand’s diplomatic service, he
and his wife Julia have based themselves in Melbourne, Australia.
Peter Hirschmann (School House 55)
I celebrated my 80th birthday by sponsoring the commission by
Leeds Lieder of a new work for tenor and piano by Daniel Kidane to
a text by Ben Okri. It had its first performance at the Leeds Lieder
Festival in April.
1960-1969
John Owen (Fenton 62)
My wife Sylvia and I celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary on
4 May 2018.
Nigel Tucker (Wordsworth 66)
Another year passes and I have still not retired – although we still
love our life here in sunny New Zealand. Other alumni are always
welcome to visit. My uncle, grandfather and great-grandfather
all attended the school and my sister worked as a secretary for
some years under Di Day. I owe an eternal debt of gratitude to our
science teachers: Jack Robinson, Mr Hopkins and Willy Bleiberg.
I also had the privilege of working with George Tester, learning to
play the piano and organ. Computer programming still suffuses my
life although Fingerprints, Parallel Processing and Sonar were all left
behind when we emigrated.
SEVENOAKS SCHOOL 2017-2018
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