Alice ‘Lalla’ Amies – 1925 to 2023

As a small child just learning to talk Alice struggled to pronounce her own name, she could however say “Lalla” and, with the single mindedness she showed throughout her life, she then responded only to Lalla. She remained Lalla to her family and childhood friends but was Alice to everyone else. When I was born, she named herself again;, rather than great auntie Lalla she wanted to be known as “Grauntie.”  She was truly an original, someone who provided a connection with an old-fashioned time who also lived a surprisingly modern life in terms of her independence, adventure, and achievements.

Auntie Lalla was born in 1925 which was just a few years after women were allowed to vote in General Elections, and she witnessed many changes in her life. Five monarchs, 20 Prime Ministers, advances in technology (she never got the hang of a computer or a mobile phone) and advances in women’s rights. When Lalla, as a professional single woman, first bought a bungalow with Jean in 1961 she had to have a male guarantor and it wasn’t until 1975 that a woman could open a bank account in her own name. Despite these obstacles Lalla trod her own path and was always fiercely independent.

However, in other ways Lalla seemed closer to the late Victorian world of her parents. She grew up in a rural vicarage and life was quite different to now. Hers was a childhood where water had to be collected from a well, there was no electricity and people regularly had to rely on bicycles or horses and carts to get around. Lalla’s strong will and independence was always apparent. A photo of her aged 11 shows her confidently sitting on a tractor with her younger brothers, my grandad Mike at the wheel and Great Uncle Christopher beside him.

Family and friends were very important to her. She was diligent in keeping in touch with people and everyone was welcome to stay with her, the only condition being that you write in her visitors’ book before you leave. Her connection and value of understanding our past is evident in her research of our family tree. She traced back both the Amies and Layman sides of our family to the 1700s long before access to the internet and genealogy websites would be able to help her.

Another big theme in her life was education; she met lifelong friends at school and became an extended part of their families as they went on to have children, becoming Godmother to many of them. She made more friends at the age of 17 when she went to Teacher Training College in Bedford. Characteristically on sunny Sunday afternoons her and her friends would cycle to Ravenstone vicarage for lunch, a round trip of 30 miles. Then in 1945 when the Second World War had just ended, Lalla began her teaching career in Hull. You might say there is nothing extraordinary in that but in typical Lalla fashion, in 1951, she embarked on her first global adventure taking a job on the Orient Line as a children’s hostess in Bulawayo, Zimbabwe.

The next ten years took her to Sri Lanka and then to Sarawak in Borneo where she worked as a headteacher. During this time, she climbed Mount Kinabalu, the highest mountain in Borneo. Without oxygen and modern equipment, she got within 50 feet of the summit, that is around 13,400 feet.

In 1961 she returned to England, buying a bungalow in Emsworth with her best friend Jean. She became Deputy Head at an Infant School in Havant and in 1964 she became Headteacher of Bancroft Infant School also in Havant.

Around the same time Jean and Lalla bought “Dunsmere” a beautiful Cottage in Forestside. This place was to feature heavily in the young lives of my mum Alison and her brothers Adrian and Ashley. This was where they spent many holidays, walking in the countryside, visiting her beach hut and National Trust properties.

In 1974 she became Headteacher at Waite End Infant School in Waterlooville, where she worked until she retired in 1985. Auntie Lalla then began the next stage of her life; lovingly caring for her mother until she passed at the age of 100. Lalla then caught the travelling bug again which took her to all corners of the globe including – Antarctica, Singapore, Australia, and North America.

Being Lalla she kept copious notes and cuttings of memorable things she witnessed in her life. These included references to the harsh winters of 1947 and 1963, coverage of the moon landings, tickets and newspaper cuttings, and correspondence to her parents from her travels. During her lifetime, she travelled to over 60 countries, all of which she annotated in her many scrap books. Her scrap books also include extracts from travel books, receipts and many more photographs. Lalla was among many things an accomplished photographer, as well as a skilled gardener and craftswoman, turning her hand to sewing, tapestry and upholstery, all with notable results.

The one thing she wasn’t quite as skilled at was cooking. Although Auntie Lalla did love a good meal and adored anything sweet, especially cakes and desserts covered in chocolate.

In her retirement, as well as travels abroad, Lalla travelled around the UK. She bought a small campervan, her Romahome, which was her pride and joy and she loved visiting her friends, relations, and places of interest.  My mum had a campervan too and when my brother, sister and I were younger we wanted to visit Auntie Lalla and intended to camp a few miles from here. Of course, in typical British holiday style we arrived to torrential rain and a flooded campsite. With no notice Lalla invited us all, a family of five including a new baby, to stay with her. For our family this was quite an adventure, but the following year Lalla set off for Australia. Her trip included a ride around Uluru on the back of a Harley Davidson, photos show her aged 80 clad in leathers looking like a rockstar.

Lalla’s love of nature and the past came together with her interest in the National Trust. She volunteered at Hinton Ampner well into her 80s. She loved her garden at Redhill Road and continued to work in it until she moved to Richmond care home. In the summer of 2020, my mum visited Lalla and was encouraging her to keep her fluid levels up, so she left Lalla sitting in her garden chair soaking up the sun to fetch a cup of tea. When she came out again Lalla was nowhere to be seen, eventually my mum found her. She was at the bottom of her garden moving bricks to rebuild a wall.

Lalla was a truly remarkable woman. Her goodness and honesty radiated from her. With her extraordinary energy she had a positive impact on many people and is an inspiration to generations of our family. We are all privileged to have known her.

Hi everyone, I’m Steph- daughter of Christopher, who was Lalla’s youngest brother.

I wasn’t always close to Lalla – I was cheeky and a handful when I was growing up, and did not respond well to authority – and I think everyone here can agree that Lalla came across as fairly strict. You don’t become a young female headmistress without being slightly terrifying – or so she came across to me.

So we didn’t have lots to do with each other, until I was in my early 20s. Lalla would call me very very regularly, often in the middle of the day when I was at work, to invite me to come stay. There was no small talk on the phone, just ‘come and stay.’ And I really didn’t want to, because I didn’t really know her, and I suspected, through experiences from my youth with Lalla, that I would be bossed around, and be given jobs around the house.

Eventually I agreed to come for a weekend. And everything changed. I was bossed around, and given jobs…. but I also became friends with an incredible lady. That first weekend was eye opening – Lalla and I were adults, equals, we liked doing the same things, we had similar senses of humour, we like sugary snacks and treats, and we discovered that we genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. That weekend sparked a 15 year long friendship, where I was coming to stay once every 2 months or so, and the format was often very similar: we went to the beach and lay outside her beach hut, on her 50-year-old deck chairs all day, random bits of plastic jabbing us every time we moved.

We did a lot of walking – which was probably our favourite thing to do together – just us two, or with one of her beloved walking groups. I loved those walks and have the fondest memories of so many of them. More often than not on a group walk, after we all had stopped for our picnic lunch, and were well on our way again, someone would realise they’d left their walking stick behind so I would be sent to collect it, often covering a few miles in round trip.

I remember on one walk, just Lalla and I this time, her route took us into a field which had a bull in it. Lalla wasn’t fazed, I was rigid with terror. And I said to her, you should be the scared one, I just need to run faster than you. She threw her head back and laughed – I’m sure you can all remember that laugh. The bull noticed us at this point, so we sped up a bit.

We did lots of things on my trips to see her – We went to the cinema, played literally hundreds of games of scrabble…but some of my most treasured memories of Lalla, are when the sun was shining, we would spend the entire day in her beautiful garden, sunbathing, reading, doing the crossword, drinking shandies. We’d have breakfast, lunch and dinner in the garden. Lalla never wearing sun lotion, but fanatical about me wearing it.

Her garden was a source of so much of her joy, and it was really was one to be so proud of. Often my jobs at Lalla’s would be gardening ones. I would have to force her to sit down and let me do them without interference, her bellowing orders from the side-lines, me often bellowing back, ‘just let me get on with it!’.

And she pushed herself to do so much more, frankly incredibly physical stuff in the garden, that someone 30 years younger than her wouldn’t have attempted. And a funny example of it, which made me laugh at the memory as I was writing it – she was in her very late 80s or early 90s when I arrived one day, and she answered the door out of breath and sweating – she had been sawing down a tree in her garden with a broken saw that was about 40 years old. She had been at it for hours.  I went to the garden shop in the village and bought her a new saw and finished the job – but it took ages and was exhausting – I couldn’t believe how much she had done. She was extraordinary – determined and so strong.

Lalla infuriated me many times over the years. She tricked me into eating liver once, it was horrific.  She would wake me at 7am after promising me she would let me have a lie in. this never went down too well – she would open the bedroom door, fling open the curtains and start talking at me and it was just the worst wake up. Makes me smile to think of it now.

Lalla went through what felt like a very long phase of asking if I wanted to go to the Peter Rabbit museum. She asked this more times than I can remember -the answer was always ‘no’.  I would say Lalla, I’m 28, I don’t want to go to the Peter Rabbit museum, and we would laugh. One time she picked me up from Rowlands Castle station saying she had a surprise for me and that we were heading straight there. It was a trip to the Peter Rabbit museum. It was actually quite interesting.

One time Lalla ran down the street after me shouting my name because I had forgotten to write in the visitor’s book, it was absolutely mortifying but I also couldn’t stop laughing. I was bellowing back at her trying to embarrass her, she was unembarrassable. We sat on the bench near the green, just enough time before my train for me to write in the book and her have another quick go at me for forgetting, another hug goodbye and I was off.

I used to call my stays with Lalla ‘detoxes’ to my friends – because by the time I arrived in Rowlands Castle on a Friday after work, I was always starving…and Lalla would have prepared a minute dinner, sometimes a boiled egg, sometimes we should share a microwave meal for one. She didn’t need any more than that, and I didn’t want to complain, so I got in the habit of eating a sandwich on the train and buying a box of chocolates for us to eat over scrabble or tv that evening. Lalla could eat more chocolate that anyone I know. At the end of the weekend, she would put a few chocolates in a cleaned-out butter pot and hide it in my bag on the morning I was going home, I would find them on the train, every time, it was just so lovely.

Over the years we had disagreements about things, sometimes pretty fundamental differences of opinions. We softened each other though; she was so interested in what I thought. She really listened. And even when her memory started to fade; and she was the first to notice it and comment on it – she maintained that amazing skill of listening, absorbing herself in whatever we were talking about or doing. I will never forget her smile when I would ring on the doorbell, and she would open it and I immediately knew she had forgotten I was coming – it was the best smile.

I’ll leave it there now, it was an honour to call Lalla my friend, she was one of the most remarkable people I know.

How do you condense Pamela’s wonderful, eventful, busy life into a short speech and do it justice, I don’t know; instead, we wish to share some memories from those close to her, which capture the essence of our dear Pamela and the impact she has made on all of our lives.

Pamela made her entrance into the world on 19 March 1940 in Fratton Portsmouth, a first daughter to Gladys and David. A little sister to David Charles, and in time a big sister to brother Gerald and sister Jean. Little did she know of the incredible life ahead of her.

Around 1942 the family moved to Limpley Stoke in Somerset where they would enjoy country life for the next 7-8 years, before reluctantly moving back to Portsmouth.

A diligent pupil Pam passed the 11+ exams to gain entry to the local grammar school. However, without parental support to pursue her education further Pam took off to London at the tender age of 16 with her dear friends, Jeanette and Hazel. There were stories of great adventures, of fabulous parties where outfits and life out on the town won out over basic necessities. London life glamour and style, safe to say Pamela had found her place in the world.

This wonderful London life needed funding so Pamela entered the legal profession. It was here she met her husband, David. They had a passionate, but short-lived marriage, parting a few years after they married however remained friends even going on holiday together.

Pamela was particularly proud of her purchase of an end terrace house on Windsor Road, Islington. A friend introduced her a colleague at Coutts so Pam, being Pam, went along with her presentation to persuade the bank, at a time when women didn’t seek mortgages themselves, to loan her the money to buy this pretty house.  Not one for failure she succeeded and made them most of her time there, judging by all the picture she took of it.

But Pam was restless and during the early 80s an opportunity presented itself for to move to Libya where she worked for Libyan National Oil company. Being a curious woman and having the desire to learn about the country she lived in Pamela planned and hosted trips into the dessert for Embassy staff and visiting dignitaries, she even hosted an event at the British residence in Tripoli. She was a stickler for the rules, calling out clients when they tried to sneak alcohol on the trips; this did not go unnoticed by Ghaddafi himself securing her the freedom to carry on with these wonderful trips. Unfortunately, due to political unease in Libya Pam returned to the UK in 1991.

It was during late 1991 and early 1992 that Pam discovered Compton and fell in love with 1 The Old School House and the rest is history. She loved the Village, her involvement in the Church, and the many lovely people who became very dear to her. Never afraid of a challenge an always willing of herself Pamela also volunteered at Littlegreen School teaching her beloved ‘naughty boys’ the joy of reading.

Auntie Pam was a very kind, wonderful, crazy, fun (and a little naughty) lady, she was formidable and stylish, always looking tremendous in her outfit regardless of the occasion and those high heel shoes, what more can I say. She loved being in the centre of everything around her be it family gatherings, church events or catching up with friends. But she was also vulnerable worrying whether people liked her, whether she had done the right thing, always trying to do her best whilst at the same time being fastidious and stubborn (a family trait I believe). Pamela was truly one of a kind. I don’t believe there is a single person who met her who doesn’t have their own everlasting memory of her. Whether you met her for five minutes, or knew her a lifetime she left an impression even up until the very end.

David, Pamela’s brother, reminded us that she also had another love – that of fast cars, I think he used the phrase, ‘she was quite a little petrol head’. When she got behind the wheel she turned into a speed freak, she was fearless. She loved every minute driving her beloved Mazda 8 so when reluctantly she had to change to a more sedate car she couldn’t resist having ‘go faster’ stripes added to it.

Auntie Pam how we enjoyed our times together, our gossiping, and our discussions about future plans and events. We could talk forever sometimes being the last to leave a restaurant if we were out. I hope I have done you proud today. You will always have that special place in my heart, love your darling niecelet.

My father graduated from Oxford university in 1959, he studied Mathematics and rowed for his college.  In his final year he was also a rowing coach.  He had intended to take a teacher training course, but there was a national shortage of Maths teachers, so he started teaching at St Edwards in the September.  This meant that he wasn’t much older than some of the sixth form.  As well as teaching Maths he was an officer in the CCF and rowing coach for Apsley house.

David wrote an obituary for his colleague Peter Corlett and provided his email address at the end of it so it is thanks to this that I have some memories of his students.   Christopher Langdon wrote that my father was “a brilliant, enthusiastic teacher”, who had an “enthusiasm for rubbing the board clean as soon as you (David) paused for breath”.

J S Gowland wrote “I often think of the enthusiasm with which you (David) got us to enjoy Maths”, David “consumed vast quantities of chalk, and one term we measured the total length of chalk before and after each lesson; then we presented him with a graph of chalk usage against time”.

In the early 1960’s, the Maths department pioneered the use of hand calculating machines, then they moved into computers.  They used the computer at Oxford university, the sixth formers had to cycle to the Computing Laboratory, prepare paper tapes on the “flexo-writers” and submit their programs to the computer operators for overnight runs.  Results were then scrutinised, corrected and re-submitted until working programs were achieved.  Even simple programs would take a few days before they worked as intended.

The outcome of this innovative work was “Practical Programming” by P N Corlett and J D Tinsley, the first programming book written for schools and colleges.  All the programs were thoroughly tested by the sixth formers.

In September 1966 David and his sixth formers trialled the first school’s computer, it was manufactured by IBM.  Using a TV screen as a monitor and a domestic tape recorder as a back-up store (both of these were world firsts), the computer had a touch keyboard similar to an ATM and boasted a magnetic core memory of just 4000 bytes.   St Edward’s boys soon programmed the machine to perform complex routines, solving problems which astounded visiting IBM engineers. Tony Malins was very proud to write a noughts and crosses program. Sometimes if they were short of tapes, they would use cassettes belonging to the family and David’s daughters would be hoping to play children’s songs, but all they got was a high-pitched noise.

David invented the matchbox computer as a method of teaching the basic principles of programming.   This was made from matchboxes which were labelled with “addresses”.  Each drawer held an instruction for the user to carry out.  Instructions were in English and “matchbox” language.  There were programs to perform calculations and sorting, but the program that was written for me, aged six, was about buying fireworks, because it was nearly bonfire night.

Away from the classroom David was an enthusiastic rowing coach, cycling along the towpath and shouting out advice, he always arrived home with a black ring around his mouth from the megaphone (only metal) and he didn’t always look where he was going so, he fell off his bike.

The masters and their wives put on Gilbert and Sullivan shows and David was in the chorus for these, he was a pirate in the Pirate of Penzance.  David’s wife Joyce designed the costumes.

After leaving St Edward’s David moved to the National Computer centre where he worked with universities and schools to set up computer science courses and was involved in an Open University TV course for teachers.   He then moved to Birmingham as a schools’ inspector with responsibility for Computer Education and worked on the national curriculum for computer education.   In Birmingham he moved into post 16 education and then he moved to Sheffield where he became Chief Inspector of Training to monitor Youth and Adult training programmes.

David took early retirement in 1992, but he soon became bored and worked as Director of Derbyshire Red Cross for three years, before retiring properly.

In retirement he and Joyce travelled for holidays in Europe, particularly Italy. In Bakewell and Chichester, he was treasurer in the local churches and ran the church fete.   He was involved in running the local music societies.   He taught many of his friends and neighbours how to use their computers and gave them general IT support.

As for me the lessons on the matchbox computer paid off and I took a degree in Computer Science, I currently work in IT for the local hospital trust.  One of his granddaughters (Jessica) has just completed a computer science degree and now is studying for a master’s degree in Data Science.

Jane

R.I.P. J.D.T.

Captain Brian J. Adams Royal Navy 1940-2022

The Address

Good afternoon everyone.

Our Dad always said that the best parties were in the smallest places, he liked everyone packed in, and we have certainly achieved that in here today! Hopefully you are relatively comfortable, but it’s a testament to the man he was, and the lives he touched, that there are so many people here. Thank you all for coming as well as for your kind words and the vast number of letters, tributes and cards over the past three weeks.

I want to start with a few, specific, ‘thank yous’.

Firstly, to Barlie for her words and most importantly for the huge role she has played in our dad’s later life. It was a big comfort to both Vicki and me that he found love again with Barlie. The Reverend Andrew Stamp married them on 29th April 2017. It was a special and loving partnership and she was a huge support to him right to the end. It’s an honour to have her in our family.

Secondly, a massive thank you to the community of Compton. He lived here for 40 years, and despite various postings abroad, his and our mum’s hearts were always in this village and in Lavender Cottage. It is an amazing community that has always been so appreciative of him, and was especially kind after his stroke in 2007 and our mum’s passing in 2008. Thank you.

Last, but by no means least, the Royal Navy. He spent 38 years in uniform and a further 12 years still involved with the RN in civilian clothes. It was his life. It was what defined him. It is an exceptional organisation with the most amazing people and thank you for all coming today in such large numbers!

In terms of writing this address, I’m lucky enough to have had a bit of help! Our dad spent around 2 years writing a book of his life, not for publication or general consumption, but for the benefit of Vicki and me. He writes in the forward: ‘I have tried to give a brief narrative of my life. I have decided to do this in the hope that Hugo and Victoria, who only really know me as their father, may find it interesting’.

I can tell you that it is well beyond interesting. It is absolutely fascinating. The fact it runs to 171 pages gives you a sense of the enormous breadth of his life and experiences. It is also reflective of his character that the book is titled ‘Just Another Naval Officer’ in his typical, self-deprecating way. It was certainly a ‘labour of love’. As many of you know, his IT and typing skills weren’t the best, especially with only one functioning arm!

My challenge has been to try and condense 82 years of the most unique, packed, exciting and varied life into the next 15 minutes. I won’t cover everything and I apologise in advance for the people and places I miss out, as well as undoubtedly getting some of the navy parlance wrong!

Our dad was born in 1940. London was being bombed nightly in the ‘Blitz’, Coventry Cathedral was virtually destroyed, Aintree Racecourse was ploughed as part of the ‘Dig for Victory’ campaign and butter, sugar, meat, clothing and petrol were all rationed.

His house in Upminster was literally in the firing line being on the German bomber flight path to the RAF fighter station in Hornchurch, so he, his younger brother Robin and his mother were evacuated to Wellingborough in Northamptonshire where they stayed for the remainder of the war.

Unfortunately after the war, our grandmother contracted an illness that affected her spine and she could spend months in hospital. When she wasn’t in hospital she was in a full body plaster cast. As a result, and due to our grandfather continuing to work in London, Dad and Robin were sent off to various children’s homes around Essex.

As the older sibling, Dad always had Robin’s back in these homes which he describes as ‘a bit of a Lord of the Flies’ existence and this sense of fierce loyalty and protection to his family and friends is a trait that endured throughout his life. It probably also helped develop his boxing, which he went on to do at school and in the early days in the Navy!

His secondary education took place at the City of London School, and our Dad told many stories of long summer holidays of cycling, tennis, the cinema and dances at the Guild of our Saviour with a very wide circle of friends. Throughout this time he always wanted to be a Royal Navy Officer and was delighted when he was awarded a naval scholarship to Dartmouth in 1956, aged 16.

In our family we tend to overlook this achievement as he always emphasised his ‘cavalier approach to schoolwork’, encouraging us to work rather harder than he did. Shortly after his success with Dartmouth he received his GCE results and was somewhat dismayed to find he’d only passed two of the seven subjects he had taken. He was held down a year in Class 5C, known as ‘The Veterans’, and although he did go onto pass another 4 GCE subjects on re-takes, we would regularly joke that the only academic qualifications he had to his name were 2 O-Levels. To be honest, this was quite helpful when it came to Vicki and I doing our exams as it didn’t set the benchmark of success too high!

He started at the Royal Navy College Dartmouth in April 1958. His first impression of the college was how smart and polished everything was, including the people. The officers on the staff all appeared very keen, highly professional, tough and not ready to suffer fools gladly.

The last part of this became clear quickly, when on Day 5 he was late for something and was given 3 days punishment, extended by 2 days for a further transgression. 3 weeks into his time at Dartmouth he wrote in his diary:

‘Life in this place is decidedly pleasant. Food is good and, providing one remains on the ball all the time, things run smoothly. If you slack, then it’s bloody awful’.

Certainly we were brought up with the mantra ‘5 minutes early is on time and on time is late’. Whenever he drove us to the train for school, we would inevitably get the one before we’d planned as he’d always get us there so early! These were traits ingrained with him aged 18, continued throughout his life and passed on to both Vicki and me!

Anyway, he clearly loved Dartmouth and enjoyed equal measures of training and sport. He made a number of lifelong friends, and it’s a pleasure that Peter Libby will be reading a poem shortly. He also had some great adventures, whether it was making, as he put it, the ‘mistake’ of signing up for a Royal Marine cliff climbing course in Snowdonia (again with Peter), or ending up in a jail cell on a beach in Barbados on his 20th birthday (literally the most convenient place to sleep the night apparently).

His first appointment after Dartmouth was HMS Houghton of the 104th Minesweeping Squadron, based in Singapore in 1960, where he quickly worked out that his tweed suits did not suit the climate!

From his perspective the ‘sweepers’ were great fun as they provided early command and training opportunities for young officers and you could apparently make mistakes and somehow get away with it.

Again there were lots of adventures, from the Commander’s wife falling off the jetty in her silk ballgown into the Singapore Dockyard waters as he brought the boat alongside, to getting shot at whilst on a midnight sail from the Rangoon Sailing club, as well as chasing and capturing pirates off Jesselton (now known as Kota Kina Balu). He was, in his words, ‘living the champagne and caviar lifestyle on beer and skittles money’.

His time on HMS Houghton was a key highlight of his career: He served with some outstanding individuals both in the wardroom and on the lower deck and it is fantastic that some of those people are here today.

In 1962, our father started his flying training, something he had always wanted to do in the RN, with the Observer course at HMS Falcon in Malta. This included navigation exercises to places like Majorca for the weekend, Sicily for fun and Libya to collect duty free booze for Christmas. As he wrote: ‘We played hard and I’m not sure that we worked all that hard’.

At the end of the course, he had to choose one of four flying options and chose the Sea Vixen, mainly because helicopters seemed boring and Yeovilton was the closest air station to London.

It’s easy to idealise the flying days, and I certainly have a mental image based on Tom Cruise in Top Gun in my head. Some of this is certainly true. Dad has a photograph album from these days, mainly of very attractive ladies with silk headscarves and convertible MGs in hot climate locations. Every time he brought it out, he would always preface it with: ‘of course, this was before I met your mother’.

However, flying from an aircraft carrier was a very dangerous job and at night and at sea, probably amongst the most dangerous in the world. A minor malfunction could turn into a fatal accident and between 1960 and 1970 no less than 51 aircrew sadly lost their lives.

Our Dad had at least a couple of hairy moments with both tyres blowing out on landing on a flooded runway in Singapore and another time when the arrester hook failed and his Vixen was caught by the backup nylon net, which successfully prevented a very watery ending. There were a few other ‘alarming incidents’ but he emerged unscathed from 890 squadron on HMS Ark Royal in Nairobi and subsequently 892 squadron on HMS Centaur in the Far East.

An anomaly on an ECG in 1966 unfortunately led to him being permanently grounded, which although disappointing for him, was uniquely fortunate for Vicki and me as in January 1967, he was sent on the Lieutenant’s Greenwich Course, where he met our mother. Our Mum was straight out of university and on the Wren’s officer training course. They stayed in touch whilst he was on HMS Lynx and HMS Abdiel, getting back together when he was at HMS Mercury and she was stationed at HMS Collingwood in 1968.

They were married at Reading Registry Office on 31st December 1970, which he describes as undoubtedly the smartest thing he ever did. I’m not sure the date was necessarily the smartest thing though as they always struggled to get a babysitter on new year’s eve so that they could go out for their wedding anniversary! They were, however, a very powerful partnership, especially on his various international appointments and they made a very strong team.

During this period in the early 70s, Dad was working on HMS Antrim, which was nearing completion in a civilian shipyard in Glasgow and subsequently went on to sea trials and operational exercises.

From here, he was appointed to Bermuda to HMS Malabar as Staff Officer Operations and Communications and Flag Lieutenant, which, despite sounding idyllic, was by far the most demanding of his appointments in the RN. There were countless minor incidents to sort out, as well as Prince Charles arriving with HMS Minerva on a six month deployment, for which he was responsible for planning the programme. It was also here in Bermuda that I made my arrival.

From there he was appointed to HMS Penelope as First Lieutenant, based in Devonport, which is where Vicki was born and we were both christened on the ship.

Shortly after this he was selected for promotion to Commander on 31st December 1977 and a near two year stint at RAF Rudloe Manor.

This was followed by Denmark where he worked for NATO as Assistant Chief of Staff Communications and Electronics, working closely with lots of different nationalities including Germans, Danes, Americans and Canadians as well as the British. He always enjoyed working with different nationalities and Denmark and Viborg were a lovely place to live. This international posting was one of a few more to follow.

On return to the UK, he was appointed to the Ministry of Defence on the staff of the Director of Naval Manpower and Training, which happened to coincide with the Falklands conflict. This resulted in everyone working in specialist groups on a 24 hour shift basis. When not at work he was mainly to be found in his favourite pub called the Two Chairmen and I know at least some of you were there with him!

From here he went to be the Commander at HMS Collingwood, which is the biggest naval training establishment in Europe with around 200 officers and around 3,000 ratings. This was quite a revelation for me as it was always surprising the level of respect he had from everyone he worked with – certainly a much greater level of respect than we gave him at home ! He was always able to balance a position of rank and authority with a lack of ego that made him genuine, authentic and has resulted in so many long lasting relationships. The picture on the back of your order of service is from HMS Collingwood, as I’m sure you’ve already worked out from the bell.

Two diplomatic postings followed. He was appointed as the Naval Adviser to the British High Commissioner in India from 1987 to 1990 and the Defence Adviser to the British High Commissioner in Australia from 1992 to 1995, with an appointment at HMS Centurion as Captain Naval Drafting in between.

The international appointments were fantastic. He says he had never really considered a role in the diplomatic world, but I’m sure we would all agree he was exceptionally well suited to it. His tact, natural diplomacy and ability to get on with everyone he met was unique. He and our mum worked as an outstanding team, entertaining, building relationships and networks as well as making the most of both locations. They travelled extensively and we were also often lucky enough to be joined by our aunt Rosalie and cousins Ben and Eloise making for the most superb family holidays.

Our dad retired from the Navy on 16th April 1996 just after his 56th birthday and I know how grateful he was to the Navy for a succession of extremely interesting and often unusual appointments, surrounded (and I quote) by honourable men and women of integrity, loyalty and honesty.

After the Navy, he applied and was successful for the post of Employment Liaison Officer for the Navy. Again, this suited him perfectly, with his huge and enviable network of contacts, working closely with headhunters and other individuals seeking the right person for a particular post. I know he got enormous satisfaction from matching people to the right role and being part of someone’s civilian transition and success story.

It was his stroke on 12th December 2007, which put an end to his employment. This clearly, was hugely traumatic, but he dedicated himself to his rehabilitation with his usual tenacity and steadfastness. At this point, our mum also knew she was not going to beat her ovarian cancer and together, with the help of some specialists also here today, they set about returning him to self-sufficiency so that he could continue to live in Lavender Cottage when she was no longer around to support him – what an incredible team.

And so onto village life!

I’m sure those of you from Compton would agree that Dad has always been a key part of village life. Personally, I think the reason the woodshed is so meticulously stacked is that it gave him a great excuse to stand and chat to everyone that walked past. He would often go out to do the gardening and return with very little gardening having been done.

Anyway, whether it was chatting over the wall, the trips to collect The Daily Telegraph from the shop, or Friday Fish and Chips in the Coach and Horses he would always stop and talk. He had time for everyone and everyone had time for him.

He also maintained and relished the naval network. His highlight of each month was the Navy lunches which he co-founded at the Coach and Horses. He absolutely loved these events, as well as catching up with all his old navy contacts and colleagues, either locally, in the Army and Navy club on Pall Mall or further afield. The naval network is truly unique.

Lastly from me, and as I mentioned at the beginning, I want to pay tribute to his and Barlie’s relationship and subsequent marriage. They found enormous strength in each other and I believe that Barlie literally gave Dad a new lease of life and a renewed sense of purpose. It was such a pleasure to see him so happy over the past 5 years with her and we will be always grateful for the support she gave him, right up to the end.

Our Dad was warm and kind, welcoming, interested in everyone whether great or small, social without needing to commandeer attention, and full of fun.

The very final words I’m going to leave to our dad. This is the last paragraph of his book, written in 2014:

‘During my lifetime I have enjoyed a most generous helping of good fortune. Possibly more so than many. Sometimes people speak of a successful life or a successful career. The problem lies in the perception of what ‘successful’ means. For me, my life has been inordinately successful. I was lucky enough to be happily married for 38 years to a wonderful woman and between us we produced two very able and well balanced children who now have families of their own. Others may judge the success or otherwise of my career. I live in what many describe as the prettiest house in a lovely village. I am now fully retired and have a good leavening of friends in the village and especially within that strongest of all networks around where I live, the Royal Navy. I, therefore, recognise that my luck still holds as things could be a hell of a lot worse. Either way you have to play the hand you are dealt and I like to think that I used the cards I was given to the best of my ability. I also believe that in spirit I continue to be what I have always been throughout my working life.

Just Another Naval Officer’.

Hugo Adams

Nicholas Joseph Pine was born on 19th May 1948 in Emsworth to parents Leslie Pine, a builder who ran his own company, and Doris Ellicott, a housewife. He had an older sister Carol and a younger brother Roy. Sadly, Carol passed away aged 31 shortly after having her son Edward.  

The family lived where the now A3 road lies, under the Portsdown Hill motorway bridge, and were offered a sum of money to vacate their bungalow, which would then be demolished so the motorway could be built. They moved to a large house, 24 Castle Avenue, Warblington, Havant in the early 1950s, which was on the edge of open fields on an unmade road. The dual carriageway of the A27 has since been built alongside it! Their neighbours, the Schreuders, a Dutch naval captain and his family, including son Henri, became lifelong friends. Indeed, Henri is Nicholas’s oldest friend.  

Nicholas was a day boy at the Prebendal Prep school in Chichester. He then attended Rodbourne College near Bath, as a boarder, with the school later moving to Gayhurst in Buckinghamshire. Here he met and made a lifelong friend in Richard Selby. 

Nicholas was not particularly academic or sporty and he always boasted about winning the slow bicycle race one sports day! However, his friend David Hazle, who had just beaten an ex-school champion on a beach race in St Tropez, was actually beaten by Nicholas in a riverside meadow running race on a holiday on the Norfolk Broads in their early 20s, despite him losing one shoe! The holiday on the Norfolk Broads was quite eventful for Nicholas. David had bought a local newspaper and learned that two local teenagers, who had been swimming in the river had swallowed some river water. When David told Nicholas they had both been taken to hospital Nicholas said he would not be seen dead in the river water. Later that day he tripped on the deck and fell off the stern! He surfaced like a rock-hopper penguin, as if he was jet-propelled!  

After school Nicholas attended Highbury Technology College in Portsmouth, leaving with an OND and HNC in Building, Construction and Surveying. He started working for his father’s building company L. J. Pine Ltd., but Mr Pine senior could be a short-tempered man who reportedly continually found fault with Nicholas. One cold February morning whilst laying drains, Nicholas could take no more. He either threw his shovel down or at him and walked off the site, never to return.  

Nicholas then started up Selby Pine Construction with his school friend Richard, with both brother Roy and friend Henri working for the company at first. The company was a success, and several houses were built within a 5-mile radius of Emsworth, plus a bungalow in Spitalfields Road in Chichester.  

Nicholas had a love of politics from his mother who was an avid Conservative campaigner. He joined the Young Conservatives in Havant and by the age of 19 was branch Chairman. One evening he went to visit a potential new member, David Hazel, who had started a local estate agency (Hazle & Co.) and who went on to open the Emsworth branch of the Young Conservatives. He too became a lifelong friend. One day in 1968, David showed Nicholas a book written by a Mr Gomme of G Plan Furniture. This author of a book called ‘Collecting Antiques’ had sold his furniture business and had purchased the Watergate Estate at West Marden in West Sussex. The book included a page on Goss China and stated that it was now becoming collectable and was a good future investment.  

David pointed to some new purchases in his china cabinet from an antiques shop and found some pieces were Goss. David and Nicholas then searched the country for Goss China. David became a serious collector and Nicholas the dealer, selling him all he could find. When David started to get duplicates, Nicholas began selling to others, soon becoming the country’s leading dealer. Indeed, eventually becoming the world’s leading dealer, sending out monthly magazines displaying his latest wares to customers from all over the world.  

Nicholas masterminded and wrote the Goss Price Guide and then the Crested Price Guide, both of which ran to many editions over the decades until the internet and eBay changed the market. Many other titles followed his first and his books will be on display back at the house. Nicholas was proud to have been made a Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts for outstanding achievements in his field of expertise.  

David, Richard, and Nicholas loved to play French Roulette, and frequented several Southsea casinos. On a memorable evening in 1971 at the Tiberius Casino, Richard placed a bet on No.8. It came up. He doubled it and won again! He then asked the croupier to transfer to Nos. 11 and 23. Both of which amazingly won again! His luck held for half an hour, and he won enough money to purchase a new Alfa Romeo sports car the next day. Nicholas and David didn’t share his luck.  

A second amazing evening took place at The Key Rooms Casino when again, Nicholas and David had no luck at all, both having been cleaned out. Just before they left David put his hand in his jacket pocket and found ½ a crown. He put it on No.7 and to his surprise it came up! That same pattern followed where he doubled it and won again, followed by numerous successful numbers. They both left with David having won enough money to pay for a certain holiday for two on the Norfolk Broads!  

One property venture, found for Nicholas by David Hazle, comprised of a pair of derelict cottages in Walderton, West Sussex, which he bought, renovated, and moved into at the age of 21 in 1969. He then built a chalet house next door which he called ‘Hatpins’, because he had, alongside buying Goss and Crested China, over 800 hatpins. When his future wife cleaned the collection of mainly silver pins it took her over 8 hours! 

During a raucous party at Hatpins one night, two young ladies called the police so they could be driven home, which the two bemused policemen duly did. One of those policemen had a girlfriend at Bishop Otter College in Chichester. Nicholas told the policemen to ask his girlfriend to organise a carload of girls to come to his next party, which they did! One of those young ladies in the carload caught Nicholas’s eye and he pursued her. Two years later in 1975 they married.  

Lynda helped him build the Goss business as well as teaching P.E in a Secondary Modern School in Havant. They had three children together, Andrew, Victoria, and William. After moving from what is now Belmont Castle on Portsdown Hill, to Hayling Island seafront, the family settled in Merchistoun Farmhouse in Horndean in 1980. Lynda left her career as a teacher to concentrate on Goss full-time as well as the children. She was a co-writer and editor of all Nicholas’s books and herself became the joint leading expert in Goss China.  

Through Goss China Nicholas met his good friend and confidant John Magee, who back in the 1960s began ‘Sandwich Supermarkets’ in London, before fast food became the norm. John built up a chain of around 50 shops across London before selling up and becoming Mr Bridge, of the card game fame. Nicholas discussed all his business with John and indeed many a fabulous New Years Eve party was had at the Magee family home in Surrey, surrounded by numerous litters of Labrador puppies and lots of fun and games!  

Nicholas bought Milestone Publications from John, which set him on the road to publishing. As Milestone Publications, Nicholas published over 100 local history and knowledge books, including one on the Pompey football team, which his children remember being extremely excited about as the Portsmouth players came to the office one day to sign books! He also set up Scope Publications Ltd, a separate publishing company specialising in investment books.  

The most popular published titles included the Bruce Bairnsfather WW1 books by Valmai and Tony Holt, Michael Cummings’ newspaper cartoon compilation, and titles by Bill Hill, a U.S. tycoon. One major book launch organised by Nicholas involved flying two plane loads of readers, many of them Conservative MPs, to Monte Carlo! At their height, his businesses had a full-time staff of 22.  

Nicholas very much enjoyed touring the war graves in Europe with Valmai and Tony Holt, and had even visited his father’s great cousin’s grave, 2nd Lieutenant Leslie Pine, who is buried in the Dozinghem Cemetery in Belgium.  

Another building venture included a large block of retirement apartments in Emsworth. The site (now known as Convent Court) was acquired by David Hazle in 1993 and consisted of two large Victorian houses in large gardens. This development was a huge achievement that both Lynda and Nicholas were proud of. Nicholas was a brilliant businessman, but he took risks. Restoring an old farmhouse in Walderton caused his building firm to cease work. The owner failed to pay Nicholas, who had virtually finished the building work and paid the workmen out of his own pocket. He then turned full time to publishing, with the financier Bob Beckman as his leading author.  

Sadly, Lynda and Nicholas divorced in 2000. Lynda took over the Goss business and Nicholas eventually settled into Forestside House, moving his publishing businesses into the lounge there. After a few years he sold both publishing companies and ‘retired’ around age 55, only to then concentrate on property development instead. 

Nicholas was a lifelong mason, which due to its secrecy we do not know much about! His children remember him going out in the evening, looking smart and always carrying his mystery briefcase. He attended his lodge frequently and clearly enjoyed the company very much. 

For the last 25 years Nicholas enjoyed being a member of Chichester Conservatives and for the last 20 years he was local branch chairman, holding meetings and fundraising activities at his home. Nicholas helped MPs to canvass in any way he could and often organised the distribution of billboards, even storing them in his garage. In March just gone he resigned as local Chair as he was planning to downsize and move back into Hampshire.  

Another good and loyal friend Nicholas also met through the Young Conservatives was William Smith. William has known the family for over 50 years and is also Godfather to William Pine. William Smith’s greatest task in life has just commenced however with being an executor of Nicholas’s estate! 

Nicholas loved the finer things in life, he enjoyed fine wine and nouvelle cuisine; 1960s pop music blaring out of his seemingly one volumed juke boxes. He loved to frequent the Royal Enclosures at Ascot and Henley and he kept all the badges he had collected from these special days! He especially liked to tell stories and jokes, having his own joke book where he recorded all his favourite ones. His most frequent one being asking his mother-in-law at Christmas ‘Would you like stuffing, Joan?!’ To which, every year, she giggled politely and replied ‘oh yes please Nicholas’. 

Nicholas loved socialising, loved to host parties and was always generous and welcoming to his guests. At times the amount he spent on Champagne may have equalled a small country’s GDP. His children remember many a formal lunch where excellent table manners were always required, yet someone always managed to spill a drink! You could always find a stash of flying saucer sweets or parma violets in his glovebox yet apparently there was no eating in the car! You never knew if you were going to be listening to Beethoven or Techno music when driving with Nicholas! And all his children are amazed that after at least seven collisions with deer on country roads, that it wasn’t the way he would actually go! His car crash repair company are such good friends they are with us today.  

Nicholas was never the type to retire and managed many rental properties along with still having a large potential property development in the pipeline. He was also very much looking forward to a holiday in Belgium before he passed away. Nicholas wrote and published his last book in 2019, The Goss and Crested China Story, where he thoroughly enjoyed recording his Goss experiences and escapades as he sought to continue to publicise Goss collecting. 

He was very generous to his many friends and the family have been inundated with kind messages and stories since his passing, which they wish to say thank you for.  

Nicholas leaves behind his brother Roy, children Andrew, Victoria and William, and grandchildren Ava, Jimmy, Zach, Zeb, and Elias. 

Just before he died Nicholas was thrilled to learn his grandson Zach has been awarded a scholarship to Millfield School, Somerset, starting this September.  

Christopher Slade died peacefully at home on Monday 7 February aged 94.

Born, brought up and based in London, he and Jane spent twenty-four happy years in Walderton, entertaining family and friends at Manor Cottage, and were familiar faces as sidesmen at Stoughton Church and running the croquet game at the Racton fete. More recently, following their departure from Manor Cottage, he and Jane stayed for weekends and in the summer with their daughter Lucinda Tite in North Marden.

An academic scholar of the highest calibre at Eton and Oxford, Christopher was called to the Bar in 1951 and pursued a successful career, retiring as a Lord Justice of Appeal in 1991. On his retirement, he and Jane boughtManor Cottage to accommodate their burgeoning family and wide circle of friends at weekends and during the school holidays. Passers-by would hear Christopher participating in highly competitive games of croquet with his guests or playing the piano, often accompanying his grandchildren in duets or songs. He was a talented musician who could play by ear with ease. Alternatively, he could be found entertaining a large party at The Barley Mow or listening to the test match.

Christopher was an excellent conversationalist with an interest in everything and everyone. He was delighted to discover during a conversation with Caroline Taylor that he and she were related through mutual great great-grandparents! He had a strong sense of duty, seamless integrity, a sharp sense of humour, a natural wit, and a bright twinkle in his eye. He was quintessentially a family man, devoted to Jane, his wife of 63 years, and to his four children, 12 grandchildren and great grandson. Unfailingly kind, gentle and courteous, he was loved by all.

Jerry died in November. He and I moved down here only five years ago to be near Goodwood for track days and Southampton for cruising. We were quickly welcomed into the community.He was a keen member of the Octagon Car Club, the English Speaking Union and the Men’s Dining Club.He was born three days before D Day in Kings College Hospital London along with his twin brother. He was brought up in South London. He joined the army, a tank regiment, the Dragoon Guards, being proud when they merged with the Blues and Royals.

In 1968 he married his first wife, Wendy and had two daughters, Thelma and Tina who gave him four grandchildren and a great grandchild. After their divorce we married in 1973. On leaving the army, Jerry set up an office equipment business. At 55 he sold up and turned his energies to what he loved, cars, especially Jaguars. He became a director of the National Jaguar Enthusiasts club and was on the committee of the Kent branch for many years. He organised shows and weekends away for them. This led to his joining Kelsy Publishing to manage their events and tours. As a result, we gained friends from all over the world.

He was a very good photographer and loved fishing both course and sea, music, quizzes and painting with water colours. In his earlier years he played badminton in several leagues, became a referee and a coach, coaching an England number one. Jerry had an endless fund of jokes and tall stories. He took great pride in his appearance, to paraphrase John Lewis, he never knowingly underdressed! Jerry could be dogmatic and stubborn, but he was also generous, kind and thoughtful and ultimately courageous in the way he dealt with his last illness. He has left his mark on many lives with his generosity, wit and humour -he gave more than he took.

Carol Stamper

Dorothy Henly was born 13th April 1935, to parents Gladys and Charles Hodgson. She was the youngest of 4 children and had three brothers. They lived in Funtington in a house next door to the blacksmith.Dorothy met John on 15th July 1952 at the village hall in Funtington, and the following Saturday they went to the pictures together. And that was that; they were together ever afterwards. Dorothy and John were married on November 5th, 1955, at the church in Funtington. Together they moved into Walderton cottages in 1956, and in the summer of 1957 moved to Brooklands cottages, which has been home to their family ever since. Dorothy was Mum to 3 children, Stephen, Nicholas, and Carol, whom she loved and cherished. She has also been a wonderful grandmother to 12 grandchildren and great grandmother to 28 great grandchildren.

Dorothy worked in the farm shop and orchard in Funtington for many years. After that, she was very busy in the local community. Amongst the many things she did she was instrumental in the setup of the Brownies in Stoughton, she was a local school governor, a member of the village hall trust, where she enjoyed helping to choose where we all would be going on our many trips –perhaps some of you will remember getting stuck in the Rhino enclosure at Longleat? She loved to walk on the hills above Walderton and Stoughton, and she was a member of the group who chose the designs for the commemorative mugs for the Queen’s jubilee. For many years she used to visit anyone who was ill, and she delivered Meals on Wheels to the local community. Walderton won’t be Walderton without Dorothy, and she will be greatly missed by John and all the family, and by all her friends in the village. She truly was a very special lady.

Edward Mynors