George Hardy (8 October 1922 – 31 July 2009)

Although this is intended to be a tribute to George Hardy, it is inevitably also mainly a reflection of my own memories of his life during the 51 years I knew him. Almost unbelievably George had a life before he joined RHS! Briefly, he was born in Blackpool, Lancashire in 1922; the second of six children. As a result of the Great Depression of 1929 and its aftermath, the family moved to Ipswich, where George attended St Mary’s Roman Catholic Primary School. On passing his 11 plus, he opted to enter a training seminary on Guernsey to train for the priesthood, but changed his mind after a year, and in 1934 enrolled at Ipswich School as Queen’s Scholar where he excelled, and where he was a pupil of Charles Mollard (see later). In 1938 he was accepted for Sandhurst for the 1940 class, but, unfortunately Sandhurst closed on the outbreak of war in 1939. Upon leaving school, George decided to learn about farm management and local government, before being conscripted into the Army (The Queen’s Royal Regiment) in February 1941 which was stationed in Teignmouth. Sometime whilst he was at Teignmouth he was involved in a train crash and lost his rifle – a court martial offence, but the extenuating circumstances came to his rescue. He transferred to the Indian Army as an Officer Cadet and was commissioned in September 1942. He was assigned to serve in 5th Royal Battalion (Scinde) of the 13th Frontier Force Rifles - the Punjab Frontier Force known as the "PIFFERS"; they were on regimental duty in India between 1942 -1944. Then he served as Staff Officer at the headquarters of 8th Indian Division in Italy and in India – at this time he was involved in rooting out those ex-prisoners of the Japanese who formed the Indian National Army that sided with the Japanese; then he served with 401 Force in Iraq from 1946-1947. During this time he rose to the rank of Captain, and on the partition of India he left the Indian Army. In 1948 he married Sister Anne Veronica Maloney, a Queen Alexandra’s Nurse whom he first met in India, and whom he pursued, whenever the opportunity arose, around the Middle East. Possibly his great interest in Motor Transport arose through this singular enterprise, as military vehicles were observed to be "off base” for extensive periods! From 1948 – 1952 he studied for, and gained, his B.Sc.(Econ) from University College Leicester, and during 1953 he gained his PGCE (teaching qualification) from St Mary’s Catholic College. He read Economic History, possibly as a consequence of his family’s experiences as a result of the 1920s depression, although he once told me that he would have liked to have read Pure History. Having completed his education he taught at St Aloysius College, Highgate and Ipswich, and following this, he began his association with RHS, where his former teacher Charles Mollard was already ensconced. At his interview board for RHS, Norman York enquired about his qualifications, and when George said that he had a B.Sc.(Econ), Norman asked if he had passed his "Higher School Certificate”! George thought that Norman, a Cambridge man, had probably never heard of B.Sc.(Econ)! Anyway George obviously got the job! I first encountered George Hardy in January 1958 when he joined the staff at the Royal Hospital School as an Assistant Master teaching history and religious instruction. I was a boarder in Nelson House, where I’d been since Easter, 1955, and Charles Mollard was Housemaster. During my early years Charles Mollard, and others, had tried to teach me history, and when George joined the school he quickly took up the history baton and began attempting to teach me. However I was then a firm adherent to the "History is Bunk” school of philosophy, and was therefore positively unreceptive to any attempt to teach me history. Probably towards the end of the summer term 1958, Charles Mollard told us that we were to have a new housemaster in the autumn; none other than George. The thought of this filled us all with some trepidation, as George was already developing a reputation for strictness tempered by fairness. He was also a "pongo”, something which did not rest easy with us sailor types! Previously, it transpired, Norman York had had one of his little chats with George and prevailed upon him to take on Nelson House, and George, together with Anne, and small daughter Suzanne, duly joined us in Nelson in September 1958. Presumably they moved into the rather small housemaster’s flat during the summer vacation. George was no doubt as apprehensive of us as we were of him, but he had to ensure that house discipline was maintained and took on a stern countenance. Towards the end of that autumn term, when all the houses had Christmas parties with competitions, I famously tested his sense of humour, by lining up with all the other contenders in the hat competition [the hats were something to behold, each individually designed and constructed by the wearer, and in their own way celebrating Christmas (e.g. sending out in morse code "Merry Christmas”)]; George and the Matron (at that time not Anne Hardy) progressed along the rank of hat-wearers commenting upon what they saw, and when they got to me George inspected my head most carefully before declaring that he could see no hat. I explained that my hat was like the Emperor’s new clothes, and George was nonplussed until the Matron explained the Hans Christian Anderson story to George, with its implication that fools could not see my hat! As I recall George smiled and moved on, and I didn’t win the prize! Over the years he often told the tale to others, and many years later told me that he just didn’t know how to react to my impertinence. In the Spring term of 1959, George caused much consternation amongst those of us who failed to see the point of running around topological equivalents to circles, when at the first cross country run of the season, he appeared in knee length khaki shorts, knee length socks, a rugby shirt, and "nimbles” (the RHS term for plimsolls); although before his time, Eric Morecambe would have been proud of the spectacle! George then proceeded to accompany the seniors on their course! Sometime in 1958/1959 Des Morris became our Assistant Housemaster. George had great ambitions for Nelson, and was determined that we would take the King’s Banner from Howe – its regular winner in the early 1950s. George initiated the CCF (Combined Cadet Force) at Holbrook in about 1959, and we became the first school to have a navy section instead of an army section for basic training. George threw himself into establishing our CCF, and undoubtedly faced off at lot of opposition from the naval staff. It became apparent to us that George had a deep interest in MT (motor transport), and he rapidly procured an old banger for the MT section to practise on and become familiar with. [Possibly this interest stemmed from his use of Army vehicles when he was courting Anne!] His great fear at this time was that someone would leave a sump plug loose, or that an oil-seal would fail, creating an oil slick on the hallowed paving on the terrace which might attract Norman York’s disapproval! At some stage during his tenure as housemaster, the works department had to check the safety of the HMS Victory weather vane that surmounts Nelson House’s cupola. It was found to be unsafe as the thrust plate was almost worn through, and was therefore taken down as there was at that time no money to carry out the necessary repairs. George set up a special fund, and through a variety of methods – no doubt including fining miscreants – gradually built up the funds necessary to have the Victory returned to its original crowning position. His mastery of arithmetic caused problems in keeping house accounts, and he often had to reconcile the accounts by relying on the assistance of his more able charges! Also during his time in Nelson, George began to plan school visits abroad, and in the summer vacation of 1960 took a party to Austria. Now, nearly 50 years later pupils from the school continue to tour the world on an extensive basis. He also began the house library. It must be mentioned that, on a visit to Paris that coincided with the end of the 1968 French riots, Gordon Foster, the school’s classics master (and an able linguist with a "Latin” temperament to match) was anxious to show George his old alma mater, the Sorbonne, but it was still in the hands of the CRS (Compagnies Républicaines de Sécurité, the ultra-tough French security and riot police), and CRS officers refused to allow them to even approach the building. Gordon, already incandescent, went ballistic, and it took all of George’s powers of diplomacy to calm the situation and hustle Gordon away without provoking an international incident. Nelson House was unique in that, as a separate part of the structure it had an annex in which the Deputy Housemaster and housematron lived in individual flats; it also had a large gamesroom. During the autumn and spring terms, instead of the regular filmshows we had on a Saturday night, occasionally a lecture, or a musical evening, was presented. One person who came was an ex-Colditz POW, and he talked about conditions there, what the prisoners did to mitigate these conditions, and escape attempts. We found the lecture inspirational, and like the Colditz prisoners, brewed evil concoctions from mixtures of such liquids as prune juice and apricot juice in the back of the piano in the games room! George never found out! I remember, too, that he mooted the idea of having a pay TV in Nelson’s games room to be paid for by popular subscription of the boys, but at that time the school’s view was that most TV programmes were less than educational! In about 1960 at George’s suggestion Anne became housematron of Nelson, much against Norman York’s initial advice, but she went on to become a firm supporter of George in his ambition for Nelson, and much of Nelson’s later success must be attributed to their partnership. The usual duration for tenure as a housemaster at that time was 15 years, but, after only 13 years (it probably seemed longer), in 1971 George was promoted to the position of Deputy Headmaster, taking over the former position of Second Master that had previously been occupied by Max Tate (successor to Tommy Lumsden). Also Desmond Morris was appointed Assistant Headmaster, a move that recognised the changing ambitions of the school, as Norman York strove to steer it on the course dictated by the 1943 Bruntisfield Committee Report’s recommendations. George worked hard, and thrived in his new role, which included safeguarding the lives of the school’s pupils, trying to ensure that their adventurous and inquisitive spirits did not lead them into life-threatening danger. To this end he ran an extraordinary intelligence gathering operation in order to attempt to stifle any unauthorised extracurricular activities. [Perhaps his evident skills in gathering such intelligence stemmed from his experiences with the Indian National Army.] And, if such intelligence necessitated it, he went on "reccies” about the school and its neighbourhood looking out for any pupils who sought to experience the fruits of the world at large, endanger their lives performing dangerous pranks, or merely to savour a less regimented lifestyle. Of course, such disruption was not always immediately appreciated by thrill-seeking schoolboys, with their self-belief in their own indestructibility, as their exploits were unexpectedly terminated; but I have no doubt that they, in their dotage, appreciate what George did for them. George performed this duty seemingly tirelessly until he retired in 1985 and was honoured by being awarded an OBE for his unstinting support of the school. Also during his time as Deputy Headmaster, in a comparatively rare ceremony that attracted wide attention, and which was conducted in the school’s main chapel, he was made a Knight of the The Pontifical Order of Saint Gregory the Great, as a reward for his services to the Catholic Church. Also during this time, and with his knowledge of the history of Greenwich Hospital, and the G.S. Reade estate he was able to negotiate for funds to be released to the school to aid its further development. At that time the fabric of the school was beginning to show the effects of the period of austerity that commenced with the outbreak of the Second World War. He was always interested in Old Boys and their Association, and was soon elected General Secretary after he retired, maintaining a massive correspondence with old boys from all around the world. He used these as raw material for the RHSOBA/RHSA Gazette which he resurrected and expanded into the lengthy and informative journal that it became under his editorship. At some stage towards the end of his spell as editor, George wrote to me telling me that he was having trouble with his pacemaker, and that it tended to float out of position in his body. I couldn’t resist reminding him of Archimedes’ principle that immersed bodies displaced their own volume, and that floating bodies displaced their own weight, and that therefore, since his pacemaker was designed to have the same density as his body when it was inserted, the only explanation was that he have been becoming denser! This caused much amusement between himself and Anne. George, I think, was motivated by his desire to see his charges maximise their potential, which he exercised by initially, putting Nelson House (his house) first as he wanted it to be the very best. He was disappointed by those who he felt were not pulling their weight and saw to it that they were fully aware of this disappointment. Later as Deputy Headmaster he took the same position with RHS. He treated all his charges, including his daughter Suzanne, with equanimity! Now that I am an OAP I appreciate his efforts on our behalf more than ever, and have to say that he and I became good friends in a friendship that lasted for nearly 50 years. Although his efforts at teaching me history originally fell on stony ground, there must have been some latent propagative property in his teaching that emerged only after many years had elapsed, as very much later in my own life I became very interested in history, and George assisted me by offering a valuable "sounding board" service. George had a good sense of humour and often, after he retired regaled listeners with stories which he told with a twinkle in his eye. On one occasion he told me that whilst he was Deputy Head, the curator of the Greenwich Hospital Collection from the National Maritime Museum had once visited the school to audit and inspect the pictures and other artefacts held there. George escorted him around, and when the curator was inspecting the seemingly pristine oil paintings in the Dining Hall, he climbed up steps to see if they needed professional cleaning. It became evident that the paintings had plum stones stuck to their surface, and the curator asked George how this could have happened. George replied that he had absolutely no idea, and said to me that it was a very embarrassing revelation. I explained to George how plum stones were launched on high trajectories by placing them on the handle end of a table fork, and then striking the tines hard with a fist. The high ceiling of the Dining Room allowed us to essentially launch mortar attacks on unsuspecting and innocent diners from other houses, but obviously some ammunition misfired! George said that in all his years as dining room duty master, he never once saw anyone indulge in that practice, and I replied, "We were very discreet!”, and George laughed. As a schoolmaster he delighted in the lives, careers, and successes of his former pupils, and they in turn owe him a very great deal, and this debt actually extends to later and current pupils who all benefit from the reforms that he helped instigate. Thank you George.

 

Bernard de Neumann Chalkwell, Essex September 2009