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“REQUIEM AETERNAM DONA EIS DOMINE”

 

 

 

OBITUARIES 2018

 

 

ELY CALIL (63)

 

Oil magnate who financed the failed 'wonga coup' in Equatorial Guinea

 

The Lebanese businessman would have remained unnoticed had it not been for his role in a plot with Margaret Thatcher's son and a former mercenary to overthrow President Obiang

 

The oil tycoon with his first wife, Tennessean Frances Condon, in 1972

 

 

Ely Calil, who has died aged 72, was a financier and oil baron who would ordinarily have remained unnoticed and unrecognised outside of the business world had it not been for his role in a 2004 failed coup attempt in Equatorial Guinea. 

 

In a scenario worthy of a spy thriller, Calil plotted with Sir Mark Thather, son of the former prime minister, and the mercenary Simon Mann to overthrow the government of the Equatorial Guinea president, Teodora Obiang Nguema Mbasogo, and replace him with exiled opposition leader Severo Moto.

 

On 7 March 2004, a Boeing 727 loaded with weapons and equipment was seized at Harare airport in Zimbabwe. Mann was arrested, found guilty of attempting to buy arms for an alleged coup plot and given a seven-year prison sentence. 

 

In an intercepted letter from his prison cell, Mann, a former British Army officer, asked his friends Calil (nicknamed “Smelly” in the letter) and Thatcher (nicknamed “Scratcher”) to send “a large splodge of wonga”  to help get him out of jail. He was pardoned and realeased in 2009 on “humanitarian grounds”. Thatcher, whom Mann later described in court testimony as “not just an investor … a part of the management team”, was arrested at his Cape Town home in August 2004. He was given a four-year suspended sentence, as well as a fine of around $500,000 (£374,000).

 

 The Equatorial Guinea government was unsuccessful in suing Calil, with British courts citing insufficient evidence to pursue a case. Interviewed in 2008, Calil denied the existence of a coup plot, stating: “There was a scheme to fly [Severo Moto] back and to protect him while he was in the country. Severo’s belief was that if he was protected in his home town and could remain alive for a few days a political storm would occur that would sweep away the present regime.”

 

Calil was no stranger to controversy. Two years prior to the Wonga coup he had been arrested and investigated over alleged illegal payments in relation to contracts between the French Elf Aquitaine oil company and the Nigerian government. The investigation into alleged “abuse of public property” by Calil resulted in him being released without charge.

 

Ely Calil was born in 1945 in Kano, Nigeria, and educated at Beaumont College and Oxford University. His Lebanese father, George Khalil, had set up the country’s first food oil mill four years earlier, processing nuts, under the name of Nigerian Oil Mills. When Khalil died in 1970, Ely inherited a £20m fortune which he went on to grow through property development and oil broking. By 2010 he had a net worth of around £350m. He was an exceptionally private man who, but for the Wonga coup, would have remained out of the public gaze. 

 

Calil married Frances Condon, a Tennessee tobacco heiress, in 1972, with whom he had a son and a daughter. Divorced in 1985, he remarried the following year, to Lebanese socialite Hayat Emma Morowa. In 1989 he married Renuka Jaine, with whom he had one daughter.  

 

Calil died following a fall down stairs at his home in Holland Park, London. 

 

Ely Calil, businessman, born 8 December 1945; died 28 May 2018

 

 

DAVID RUSSELL GARNER (47)

 

 

 

 

 

 

David in 1967

 

His Daughter Jenny Towler Writes:

 

David died on 22 March 2018 having just reached the age of 88. He had been slowing down over the last two years and died stoically in a short stay in hospital under his own terms (no treatment) which I feel was part of the ethos that he was brought up with.

 

He left Beaumont in 1947 and went straight into his National Service afterwards he went on to Southampton University where he was told that he should spend less time as Chairman of the Rag Committee if he was going to get a degree.  I rather hope that this was similar to his experience at Beaumont!  He didn’t get the degree as he was too involved with the social side of university (and probably helping out others). Over the years he was very much a community activist – he was on the Aldermaston Marches’  - and passed an appreciation for this down to me for which I’m grateful (and keeps me occupied locally).

 

He trained to be a Mechanical Engineer but eventually found himself in technical journalism where he edited magazines such as Farm Machine Design Engineering and was able to indulge his love of fast cars by test-driving cars for motor reviews.  He then worked on technical journals for the construction industry before retiring.  His long retirement was spent with his family enjoying his books, beer, garden and music and passing on his quiet wisdom to all who knew him.

 

He described his interests over the years as reading, working, DIY as necessary, motor-cycles, photography, “messing around with boats”, and foreign travel. His recreation was “Reading, talking and exercising the mind constructively”.

 

 David generously left a bequest to the BU in his Will.

 

 

 

 

FR MICHAEL COOPER SJ MBE (48)

 

Michael John Cooper

 

 

From: Beatrice Bodart-Bailey, Professor emeritus Otsuma Women’s University, Tokyo

 

Honorary Professor, College of Asia and the Pacific.

 

 

There was one person whom many colleagues of my generation would invariably call upon when arriving in Tokyo. That was Michael Cooper, the editor of Monumenta Nipponica.

 

I first met Michael in 1976 when during a brief stay in Tokyo I had a chance of attending one of his lectures at International House and had asked to see him afterwards. He had been the examiner of my ANU MA thesis on the political significance of Sen no Rikyū and afterwards had written to me suggesting that parts of my thesis could possibly be turned into an MN article. I was keen to discuss with him the shape of the article, but also apprehensive to meet a member of the Society of Jesus, a scholar who had been by examiner and now was going to decide whether my first academic article would be published in his well-respected journal. I need not have worried. At that time Michael was still wearing the little gold cross on his lapel that set him apart from the rest of the community, but he had a knack of putting people at ease by making them feel that he was truly interested in what they said, and this first meeting became the beginning of a long friendship terminated only by his death on March 31st of this year.

 

              Michael was born on 25.4.1930 in London. He rarely talked about his family – except when referring to occasional trips to England to see his mother and older sister – but once mentioned that his father had been an editor and had died early, overworking himself. Michael was educated at Beaumont College, one of three public schools maintained by the English Province of the Jesuits, situated not far from London in Old Windsor, Berkshire, sometimes referred to as"Catholic Eton". The school had large grounds and held a number of sporting distinctions. Michael once mentioned his love of and success in team sports earlier in life, and this early enjoyment of outdoor exercise was perhaps the basis for his love of hiking later in life. One of his favorite week-end occupations was showing visitors the temples in the hills of Kamakura. (His notes on the temples he published in hisExploring Kamakura: A Guide for the Curious Traveler, Weatherhill, 1979.) He also accompanied me on many a hike when I was tracing the footsteps of Engelbert Kaempfer on his journey to Edo for my translation of Kaempfer’s work on Japan. In Tokyo, too, Michael preferred walking to public transport, and would set out on foot from his office at Sophia for his many breakfast, lunch and dinner meetings with scholars and students staying at International House.

 

              On graduating from Beaumont College in 1948, Michael entered the Society of Jesus and studied philosophy and theology at Jesuit centers in Spain and England. He first arrived in Japan in 1954, learning Japanese for two years in Yokohama and then spent a further two years at Sophia teaching. In 1956, the year Michael arrived at Sophia, Pedro Arrupe was appointed as first Jesuit provincial for Japan. The provincial  –  Michael told Kate Nakai-Wildman – singled him out early to be MN’s future editor and sent him off to Oxford to do a doctorate in anthropology in preparation for the task. It appears that even in his mid-twenties, Michael displayed all the qualities Arrupe considered necessary for the task of editor of Monumenta Nipponica.

 

              “Rodrigues would doubtless give a sardonic grin to observe the extent of my travels to dig up further information for his biography” Michael wrote in the preface of his Rodrigues, the Interpreter: An Early Jesuit in Japan and China and explained that “the trail led through Oxford, London, Rome, Madrid, Seville, Lisbon, Macao, Tokyo and Nagasaki.”  We have no information as to when he did these travels, but around 1965, on the publication of his They Came to Japan: an Anthology of European Reports on Japan, 1543-1640 , we find him at Campion Hall, the Jesuit College at Oxford. Publishing this, his first book, Michael most probably did not imagine that there would be 49 editions between 1965 and 1996 in three languages. At the time of writing the volume is held by 1,163 WorldCat member libraries worldwide, quite a record.

 

          Michael wrote his doctoral thesis under the supervision of Charles Boxer. Later, when Boxer was encouraging one of our colleagues to call on Michael when in Tokyo, he assured him that Michael was much more jovial than other members of the order. According to British Library records, Michael’s doctorate was officially awarded in 1970. In that same year he is listed as being on the advisory board of MN under Ed Skrzypczak who had become the editor the previous year. But already the next year, in volume 27, 1971, Michael appears as the editor, with Skrzypczak as associate editor.

 

          In his essay “Sixty Monumental Years” Michael noted that he became MN’s first full-time editor. The journal had been founded by Johannes B. Kraus in 1938 with the intention of publishing four issues per year, but this had never been realized. In the second year of his editorship, Michael finally fulfilled the founder’s dream of bringing out the journal as a quarterly. Modestly Michael wrote: “Since that year MN has appeared punctually (well, fairly punctually) four times a year. As nobody else sensibly seemed to covet the post, the editor remained on the job for twenty-six years, overseeing the journal from volume 27 to the spring issue of volume 52 (1997).” (http://dept.sophia.ac.jp/monumenta/pdf/Michael%20Cooper%2060%20monumental%20years.pdf).

 

          Michael was not a person who would adopt a highbrow attitude on account of being the editor of a much respected journal where acceptance of an article might tip the scale to obtain employment, promotion or tenure. It was perhaps to counter the image his powerful position might conjure up in the minds of others that with his editorship begun what he aptly refers to as “the Snoopy jidai of MN's history”. He explained that “owing to the editor's strange predilection for that amiable beagle … the MN nengajô often featured that winsome dog, the office rug bore his portrait, and favored subscribers found their MN envelopes decorated with his logo.” He forgot to mention that Snoopy also appeared on the top of MN proofs and featured on the editor’s many postcards sent out on various auspicious occasions.

 

              Michael’s editorship began in what from a technologically point of view might be described as the Dark Ages when there were no computers, no internet, no mobile phones and of course no pmjs. For him this meant that he would copy articles on his manual typewriter, editing the text in the process. Even when Sophia eventually supplied him with a computer, it took a long time until he agreed to use it, arguing that editing articles while copying them was the most expedient way. The characters in the footnotes of articles would be inserted by his Japanese secretary using a Japanese typewriter, the type one only finds in museums today with their endless boxes of characters to be inserted one by one into the machine as necessary.

 

              For us as researchers working on Japan, the technological Dark Ages meant that we could not quiz our colleagues on, for instance, what had been written about a lesser known medieval monk, or how to translate a line of a poem. Neither could one search for reasonable accommodation before arriving in Tokyo or tap into other people’s experience on how to open a bank account in Japan, share a flat, or where and how to extend one’s visa.

 

          Michael was the one person who could answer most of these questions, or at least suggest someone who might be able to help. He provided invaluable assistance at a time when, for instance, obtaining a telephone required a major outlay to purchase a line, plus the good fortune of finding someone who was leaving the country and wanted to sell their line. Michael knew who was in town or about to arrive or leave, and also who might be interested in joining a conference panel, contribute a chapter to a book, or was about to embark on research close to one’s own.

 

              When Michael accepted my first article, he explained: the journal does not pay for articles, but has a good entertainment budget and makes up for it. And indeed, that was the case: others have already written about the many meals Michael invited them to, especially appreciated when the high Yen strained one’s budget.

 

There was no amazon nor other internet sites to order books to be delivered back home, and I remember arriving at his office with a pile of books acquired at second-hand bookstores in Kanda, wondering aloud how I would manage to fit them into my luggage. With a smile Michael pointed to a corner of his desk saying: “just leave them here.” Expertly packed they were mailed to Australia. Nothing would faze the editor: not even someone arriving at his office with a toddler in tow. I vividly remember my daughter riding on Michael’s shoulders on the way to a restaurant some 40 years ago.

 

          Michael was keenly aware that he was leading a privileged life in Tokyo where all his needs were provided for by the order and he was full of consideration for the problems we as visiting researchers, many without a permanent job, were encountering. Colleagues have already shared their stories of Michael’s thoughtfulness and kindness on pmjs. If all were recorded, it would most probably fill a volume. Had one questioned Michael about his hobbies, the answer might well have been “helping others.” I consider myself particularly fortunate in having had Michael’s assistance not only with my publications far beyond articles in MN, but also receiving his unwavering moral support when the going was rough.

 

          Michael left Tokyo for a sabbatical in Hawai’i in 1999 and decided to remain there. During his retirement he annotated and edited João Rodrigues’s Account of Sixteenth-Century Japan for the Hakluyt Society (2001) and completed The Japanese Mission to Europe 1582-1590 (Global Oriental, 2005). For his scholarly contributions he was awarded the British MBE  and also the Ordem de Mérito from the Portuguese government.

 

          Michael’s last email reached me on December 11, 2017. Although soon to turn 88, he was still looking after others. The subject line was “bananas”, with him explaining that he was taking bananas, a friend’s favorite fruit, to the assisted living facility she recently moved to. After wishing me a happy Christmas he continued: “I thought of you recently as I spent several hours re-reading about Engelbert and his travels. What a man!” Towards the end he wrote: “As for the old Editor of MN, we muddle along. As regards my recent medical exam, the results were a bit negative, but not to worry.”

 

          The last time I spoke to him was on Christmas day, when he had no complaints about his health. Receiving no further mail from him, I planned to phone him on Easter Sunday, but somehow failed to do so. It would have been too late anyway, for he peacefully passed away on Easter Saturday.

 

          It was his wish to have his ashes scattered at sea. There will be no gravestone in his memory, but his memory will live on as MN’s editor of twenty-six years, author of many significant publications and, perhaps most important, as a very generous and considerate human being who made a difference in the life of many people. I believe a formal obituary is scheduled for the next issue of Monumenta Nipponica.

 

 

SIR BERKELEY PIGOTT of KNAPTON Bart (41)

 

 

Berkeley usually known as Henry was the son of the 5th Baronet of the same name, a onetime Major in the 17/21st Lancers and a Verderer in the New Forest. Henry went to St Johns in 1936 and entered the College in 1939. He left for Ampleforth after Syntax, whether this was because of the War is uncertain but a number of families removed their sons believing that the Yorkshire moors or further away from London was a safer place.

 

On leaving school he entered the Royal Marines and served in 1944 -45 before joining his father on their farm in Hampshire an enterprise he finally inherited together with the title in 1982. In 1954, he married his wife Jean and they had a son and two daughters. Henry’s main love was sailing and he was an accomplished yachtsman. He died at home at the age of 92 at Shobley, Ringwood on the 6th August 2017 and was buried on Papa Stour, Shetland.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sir Reginald Secondé KCMG, CVO (40)

 

British ambassador recalled from Chile amid great tension in the 1970s

 

November 11 2017,, The Times

 

 

When he arrived in Santiago in 1973 as Britain’s new ambassador for Chile, Reggie Secondé presented his credentials to Salvador Allende, who three years earlier had become the first democratically elected Marxist president. He had launched the “Chilean Experiment”, the introduction of communism through parliamentary means. At their first meeting, Secondé thought that Allende seemed “tense”, but “determined to push through his ideas”.

 

Secondé saw much good in Allende’s reforms. Chile, he wrote, “has at least caught her social problems by the tail”.

 

Inflation, the expropriation of land and the takeover of factories led to a polarisation of Chilean political opinion, however, and on September 11, 1973, the military struck. Allende gave a farewell broadcast then died of assault-rifle wounds in the presidential palace — his death was ruled to be a suicide — and many of his supporters were arrested.

 

Three days after the coup, Secondé reported, “it is likely that casualties run into the thousands, certainly it has been far from a bloodless coup”. A few days later he wrote that “stories of military excesses and mounting casualties have begun to circulate. The extent of the bloodshed has shocked people.”

 

The British government was keen to establish good relations with the junta, and Secondé drafted a statement that made British feelings about human rights clear without alienating the new rulers, who promised to treat political opponents “in a humane manner”. The foreign secretary, Alec Douglas-Home, cabled Secondé to congratulate him on carrying out “a difficult brief . . . the statement helped us to defend our relatively early recognition of the new government against domestic criticism.” Perhaps part of Secondé’s success lay in the advice he gave to his son, Charles: “One should always flatter.”

 

Secondé was no Chilean lapdog, however, as an American diplomatic cable acquired by Wikileaks demonstrates: “Second [sic] told me that on [the PM’s] instructions he had . . . an extremely frank talk with foreign minister Carvajal, the gist of which was that unless junta altered its human rights policies, it would not be possible for HMG to restore the traditionally friendly and co-operative relations which had existed between the two governments. Carvajal was apparently impressed with Seconde’s outspokenness (the ambassador is indeed a very direct type).”

 

The junta’s promise to act humanely was not remotely honoured, and in November 1975 Sheila Cassidy, a British doctor, was arrested. She had been working at a hospital when a priest had asked her to go to a safe house run by Americans to treat a revolutionary shot in the leg while on the run.

 

A week later she was seized and taken to the notorious Villa Grimaldi on the outskirts of Santiago. She was subjected to the parrilla — “grill”, or “barbecue” — a rack to which the subject is tied and given electric shocks. After several days of torture she was put in solitary confinement for three weeks, then taken to a women’s detention camp. Most of her fellow inmates were students; all had been tortured.

 

Cassidy’s arrest led to a rupture in relations with the junta, which was now dominated by General Pinochet, and Secondé was ordered to return to Britain as soon as he had secured Cassidy’s release — despite opposition from some Tory MPs, who demanded medical evidence that she had been tortured. One, Nicholas Fairbairn, was outraged that Secondé was being recalled solely on Cassidy’s testimony. Cassidy was freed on New Year’s Eve, 1975. Secondé never returned to Santiago.

 

His next posting was in 1977, as ambassador to Romania, where Nicolae Ceausescu had been in power for more than a decade, ruling through hardline Marxism and the secret police.

 

Secondé was struck by the grimness of Bucharest on his arrival: “There is something depressing about it which is hard to define,” he wrote. “It is not entirely the monumental heaviness of the new buildings or the glimpses one gets of the tattered finery of the past or the wide acres of identical blocks of workers’ flats — or even the pathetic displays of consumer goods in the shops (all state-owned). I think it is rather in the look of the people.”

 

Romania wanted to acquire British aircraft, so the UK government was not keen on addressing human rights abuses — but Secondé realised that their power was limited: “We must chip away, but I doubt whether we shall have any spectacular results,” he wrote.

 

One evening Secondé was ordered to dine with Rudolf Hess

 

His final appointment, in 1979, was as ambassador to Venezuela, which was booming on account of the oil price rise. He received a stream of high-level visits, and was knighted, but in 1982 his final months were clouded by the Falklands conflict, during which the Venezuelans were enthusiastic supporters of the Argentinian cause.

 

Reginald Louis Secondé was born in 1922 on the Isle of Wight, but when he was very young went to India, initially to Hyderabad, as his father, Emile, was an Indian army officer; his mother was Doreen (née Sutherland). He was educated at Beaumont and King’s College, Cambridge, where he studied economics under JM Keynes. Secondé once asked him, “What’s going to happen in the long run?” and received the reply, “In the long run you’ll be dead!”

 

In 1941 he was commissioned in the Coldstream Guards. His first duty was to help guard Rudolf Hess, who had landed in Scotland seeking to secure a meeting with the government. One evening Secondé was ordered to dine with Hess, whose English was good, but Secondé found that his understanding of Britain was somewhat out of date — he seemed to believe that power lay with the king and his nobles.

 

In 1942 Secondé’s battalion sailed to fight at Longstop Hill, and elsewhere in the Tunisian campaign. This yielded more than a quarter of a million prisoners, and Secondé and his platoon were ordered to guard hundreds being transported to Algeria in the hold of a Liberty ship. On the way it was torpedoed, limping back to port with a cargo of dead and wounded.

 

For the rest of the war the Coldstream Guards fought their way up through Italy. By 1945 Secondé had been wounded, promoted, mentioned in dispatches and had learnt some Italian. This allowed him to join the Allied Screening Commission, whose task was to reward those Italians who had helped escaped British PoWs.

 

His experiences in Italy stimulated him to try for the Foreign Service, and in 1949 he was set to work in the Western Organisations Department, which dealt with the Brussels Treaty Organisation, the forerunner of Nato. A posting to the UN followed in 1951.

 

 

 

Image result for sir reginald seconde

 

That year he married Catherine Sneyd-Kynnersley and went on to have three children: Juliet raised six children before becoming a teacher of yoga, and now practises acupuncture; Louise raised four children, and now writes and lectures; Charles went into the fashion industry, including 18 years with Christian Dior. “Dad always told me that I should do the right thing,” he recalled, “but he never told me what the right thing was.”

 

His name, which had its distant origin in Champagne, sometimes brought him recognition. At a large meeting in the Foreign Office to discuss staff matters, a resolution was proposed. He stood up to second it, announcing, “I’m Reggie Secondé”, to a ripple of amusement. He knew AA Milne’s Winnie-the-Pooh by heart, and said he was always able to use something from it whenever he had to give a speech.

 

Secondé wrote an unpublished memoir, which concluded: “I have recorded some of the above, as possibly being of interest one post-millennium day. But in any case the process has helped me, as the Portuguese put it, ‘matar saudades’ — to kill nostalgia.”

 

Sir Reginald Secondé, KCMG, CVO, diplomat, was born on July 28, 1922. He died after suffering from dementia on October 26, 2017, aged 95

 

 

 

JAMES EDWARD MELVILLE (53)

 

 

Jim Melville died in June 2016 at his home in Hereford.  He came to Beaumont from St Aidan’s Grahamstown, South Africa in 1950 and entered Lower Syntax. Jim was not an academic: his love was cricket gaining his cap in ’52 and colours at the end of the 53 season in a side that suffered an unexpected and resounding defeat at Lords.

 

On leaving, Jim played for Blackheath and for the MCC. He came to prominence in 1961 when playing for the Club Cricket Conference against the outstanding Australian touring side. In the words of the press he “ambushed” them taking 6 wickets for 46 including the Captain Richie Benaud and their other leading batsmen Lawry, Jarman and O’Neil.  The Club won by 8 wickets, the Australians only defeat in the season.

 

The following year Jim made his first class debut for Kent and again made an impressive start in the defeat of the county champions Yorkshire taking 3 for 28 in the first innings and then 4 for 78 in the second.  This included Geoffrey Boycott out for a duck on his debut. He played a couple more seasons for Kent before returning to Club sides.  Jim will be remembered as “a lively seamer with a well disguised slower ball”.

 

Jim was one of those extraordinary Beaumont cricketers that include the Meldons, Charles de Trafford, Bird, Bulfield and Naughten.

 

 

 

Jonathan Hugh Rogers (65)

 

 

Of Freshwater Pembrokeshire. Died 1st December 2017 aged 70 from multiple system atrophy, an illness borne with great stoicism

 

Robert Bruce.

 

Jonathan was the year below me at Beaumont so I didn’t know him all that well, but he was a superb scrum half with a great long pass from the base of the scrum and tipped to be First XV scrum half a year ahead of his time for the 63/64 season, my last year.  Luckily for me, he was sick or injured at the beginning of the September term and I was promoted from the Second XV to fill his place.  He duly returned to his rightful place as scrum half after a couple of games and saw the season out in great style.  But thanks to getting in to cover his absence, I retained a place as wing forward (flanker in modern parlance) for the rest of the season  -  better not tell my boys I got in by default!

 

But Jonathan was great, tough, gritty and providing superb service to his fly half (either Bell or Tony Arnoux, can’t remember which).

 

Chris Newling Ward

 

I was thinking about that pass today; he was really very fast and a very special team-mate and the following year became Captain of the 1st XV, earning his colours.

 

I think get also received his colours for Boxing as well.

 

In that same team we had Kevin Riordan who also got Rugby and Boxing Colours then  crowned it with Cricket to get the triple. Not many did that. He had an Irish trial I think.

 

We had a very good season under Jonathon; I don’t know if you were involved with Terry Fallon as coach, who had us back at school a week early in September for training.

 

Probably as tough as your Marine training! Looking at the list below we also had John Bidwell, Paul Cusack as hooker, and John Devaux, James Halliday and Pat Garstin in the same team

 

Robert Bruce in response to Christopher:  

 

Your memory is better than mine!  -  Some might say that’s not difficult. But we too returned for early for pre-season training under Fallon  -  a TA Para officer if I remember rightly.  He introduced us to circuit training which has since remained with me all my life, both in practice and in memory!  Fallon went on to be Head of a catholic girls school in Torquay - I wonder how his tough image went down there, but he was there quite a long time.

 

As the photo in my study reminds me, there were several of your year in ‘our’ XV, including Bill Orchard, as well as Devaux, Garstin and Riordan who you mention  -  Jenkins too was your year I think; can’t remember his Christian name.

 

We weren’t a particularly successful team and only Gerry Green (Captain) and John Keogh got colours.

 

John Bidwell:  "

 

How very, very sad. We were at Beaumont together from 1960 to 1965 and I played a lot of rugby and cricket with him and we were good friends. His delightful mother used to take us to the Cumberland Hotel in Marble Arch occasionally on Sunday Exeats for their superb carvery which supplemented our ghastly Beaumont diet for a week or two. The memories remain strong.

 

Mickey Parish

 

Sad news.  What can I say, except he was one of the best guys at Beaumont.  Apart from all his achievements he was a total hero for me in July 1965 for standing up to the "establishment ".  We should all sing together:  "The Fox is not bad, it's all very sad ... and remember him with happiness.”​

 

Simon Potter:

 

I only saw Smoothie a few times after we all left Beaumont, the last being, I'm sure, at West Hylands after some "do" for our year group (but can't remember when; he was on a walking-frame then, so some years back) - but, mobility excepted, he was just the same as in '65; and a really delightful chap.