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‘live’ were I not engaged in an activity
of which CFB would have thoroughly
approved: cruise lecturing. Like CFB, I
passed muster with Swan Hellenic. Being
neither don nor distinguished clergyman,
I thought this was quite something, but
I suspect Swan had lowered its lecturer
standards since CFB’s day. I owe it all
to CFB’s div course on architecture
(accompanied by Banda-reproduced
notes and 35mm slides that were
frequently projected the wrong way up).
He was an inspirational div don and his
enthusiasm was catching. He must have
delighted Swan audiences with his sense
of fun – a word he used often.
David Wilson (I, 50-54) reminisces: The
memorial service for Colin Badcock, the
epitome of a good div don, reminded
me of the love of poetry he imparted to
us. Each week we would learn a poem
and recite it. Possibly because of the way
CFB taught it, the learning of poetry now
comes easily…
Winchester Classics
…As an A-Ladder man, I had the
unforgettable privilege of being taught by
Jerry Poynton. Although far from being
one of the leading classicists of the day,
I acquired a love of the Classics, and
particularly Homer, which remains with
me. The one thing I hated at school was
steeplechase. No sooner was one over
than I dreaded the next. As I recall it, I
was the last Hopperite to finish in each
of my steeplechases, to be greeted by
some pithy barks from Marcus Hampton.
Subconsciously, the shame and ignominy
must have set a challenge, as I later
completed seven London Marathons.
Martin Greenwood (I & Coll, 48-
54): Stephen Anderson’s article on
Winchester Classics struck a chord with
me, when he mentioned that A-Level
Ancient History had been banished.
As I struggled with all the original texts
under Poynton and later with Greats at
New College, the missing link for me was
always Ancient History to put it all in
context. Thanks to my father’s request,
I even took A-Level AH in 1953 and
T he T rusty S ervant
1954, in the quest I think for a State
Scholarship.
Peter Jay (C, 50-55): Stephen Anderson’s
recollection of O Levels in the 1980s
reports that they were taught in a last-
minute rush. In the early 1950s they
were not taught at all. When they were
first introduced it was against the law to
take them before one’s 16 th birthday: by
then I was in SP1a and doing history in
H1. I recall that, as a great concession,
we were excused from div just to sit
the exams. The last time I had been
taught the O-Level subjects was at my
‘tother’ three or four years earlier. As for
A Levels, they were neither taught nor
taken, except on the ‘C’ ladder.
Monty Rendall
Paul Smiddy (K, 67-71): Butley Priory
was acquired by Monty Rendall in
1926, and substantially renovated. On
a recent visit, the enclosed feature was
drawn to our attention. Monty had
recently been appointed a Governor of
the BBC and was told he really ought
to invest in a wireless set. However, he
Rendall’s Radio
17
believed such apparatus did not really
fit within his Augustinian surroundings.
He therefore commissioned from his
architect (William Douglas Caroe) a
cupboard door to conceal it. Moreover, it
had a smaller door inset, which could be
opened to allow the speaker to be heard.
Around this is a motto in Ancient Greek
which I am told is something along the
lines of ‘News from the airwaves’. To
move this story into the 21 st century, we
really need to see a photo of the current
BBC Chairman’s television equipment!
Gunner’s Hole
Nicolas Jacobs (Coll, 54-59): John
Gunner’s reminiscences (TS120) of the
eponymous Hole contain one minor
inaccuracy – the lowest stage of the
three-decker diving-board was not ‘Jun’
but ‘Railway Track’, and stood about
six feet above the water – and one
serious injustice. The barrel-chested
presiding genius of the place was not
Geoff Hodges, though he was often to
be seen there, but Bill Egginton, known
to all as ‘Eggers’. I believe that, like his
colleague in Gymna Bill Foreman (who
deserves a tribute of his own), he had
been an instructor in the Navy and that
Geoff had selected him and brought
him in at the end of the War. Beside his
general duties he doubled as a boxing
instructor and in Cloister Time, as soon
as the water temperature rose above 60°
at which level it did not always stay for
long, he was on duty in Gunner’s every
day before breakfast and in the late
afternoon. He was greatly loved for his
kindness and for his irreverent and salty
wit, much of which I probably ought not
to repeat here. Some time after leaving
the school I heard rumours that failing
health had forced ‘Eggers’ to give up
strenuous activity and that he had been
relegated to sweeping floors in San.
To end one’s career in such a menial
occupation seemed to me, and still does,
a rather shabby reward for a fine man
who had served school and country well,
and I have always hoped against hope
that the story was untrue.