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This article written by Jackie Rickenberg was published in the Parish Magazine in June 2022 Well, isn’t life strange? I’ve been writing and collating these reports for a couple of years now, and just when I find myself, for the first time, scrambling around for something interesting and topical, along comes a best-selling book and film with a somewhat tenuous but nevertheless curious connection to our sleepy Surrey village. As Paulo Coelho once wisely said “When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it”. I shall tell you the tale first and I wonder how long it will take you to name the book and film (in cinema’s now, as I write this in late April). On Christmas Eve 1919, a chap called Walter Wright sold Rock Cottage, at the very top of Highfield Lane at the head of the Valley of the Rocks, to the President of the Board of Education (what would now be the Secretary of State) H A L Fisher. In fact, it was not Herbert Fisher who made the decision to buy Rock Cottage – it was his wife Lettice (at the time they had a seven-year-old daughter called Mary). She committed them to the purchase on the basis of one brief visit, being largely persuaded by the fact that Walter Wright’s daughter who was residing in the property during this visit, was called Lettice Mary! Fisher was born in London in 1865, the eldest son of eleven children. Direct relatives included brother-in-law, the composer Ralph Vaughan Williams and first cousins Virginia Woolf and her sister Vanessa Bell, and his godfather was the Prince Consort. He was educated at Winchester and New College, Oxford and it was there he took up his first post as a tutor in Modern History. By 1913 he was Vice-Chancellor of the University of Sheffield and by 1916 Fisher was elected Member of Parliament for Sheffield Hallam. He joined David Lloyd George’s government as President of the Board of Education. And of course, Lloyd George became Churt’s most famous resident a year later. Coincidence, or were they close? He was sworn on the Privy Council, therefore becoming The Right Honourable, and it was in this post that he was instrumental in the formulation of the Education Act 1918, which made school attendance compulsory for children up to the age 14. Fisher was also responsible for the School Teachers (Superannuation) Act 1918, which provided pension provision for all teachers. So, when Herbert Fisher bought Rock Cottage a year later, in 1919, he was already a committed, hard-working MP and government minister and remained so for a further 7 years. When he retired from politics in 1926, at the age of 61, he took up the post of warden of New College, Oxford which he held until his death. During his long, illustrious career he served on the British Academy, the British Museum, the Rhodes Trustees, the National Trust, The Governing Body of Winchester College, the London Library and the BBC. In 1939, he was appointed the first chairman of the Appellate Tribunal for Conscientious Objectors. Unfortunately, this inadvertently would be responsible for his demise on 18th April 1940. On this date, whilst in London to sit on a Conscientious Objectors’ Tribunal during a blackout on what was called a London “pea souper”, H A L Fisher was knocked down by a lorry and died in St Thomas’s Hospital. Now, what was it about this honourable man’s life and ultimately, his death, that made it into a best-selling book and film? Well, bizarrely it was his underpants. You see, Fisher had left a few of his possessions - clothes, his library of books, etc in New College, Oxford and they were still there a couple of years later, when in 1943, Operation Mincemeat was being planned and executed. This is now the name of the best-selling book by Ben Macintyre and a film starring Colin Firth. Operation Mincemeat was a British Intelligence operation to deceive enemy forces, where they undertook the invention of a false Royal Marines officer, whose body was to be dropped at sea in the hope the false intelligence it carried, would be believed. It was, indeed, a success and was responsible for misleading German intelligence and possibly influencing the eventual outcome of the war. The following excerpt from the book, explains the details that joined the otherwise unlikely chain of events: “Underwear was a more ticklish problem. Cholmondeley, (intelligence officer) understandably, was unwilling to surrender his own, since good underwear was hard to come by in rationed, wartime Britain. They consulted John Masterman, Oxford academic and chairman of the Twenty Committee, who came up with a scholarly solution that was also personally satisfying. “The difficulty of obtaining underclothes, owing to the system of coupon rationing”, wrote Masterman “was overcome by the acceptance of a gift of thick underwear from the wardrobe of the late Warden of New College, Oxford”. Major Martin (the corpse’s new identity) would be kitted out with the flannel vest and underpants of none other than H A L Fisher, the distinguished Oxford historian and former President of the Board of Education in Lloyd George’s Cabinet. John Masterman and H A L Fisher had both taught history at Oxford in the 1920’s, and had long enjoyed a fierce academic rivalry. Fisher was a figure of ponderous grandeur and gravity who ran New College, according to one colleague, as “one enormous mausoleum”. Masterman considered him long-winded and pompous. Fisher had been run over and killed by a lorry while attending a tribunal examining the appeals of conscientious objectors, of which he was chairman. The obituaries paid resounding tribute to his intellectual and academic stature, which nettled Masterman. Putting the great man’s underclothes on a dead body and floating it into German hands was just the sort of joke that appealed to his odd sense of humour. Masterman described the underwear as a “gift”; it seems far more likely that he simply arranged for the dead don’s drawers to be pressed into war service”. So, there you have it, an eminent academic and politician who served his government and country, published many important papers, bills, reference and textbooks – and his legacy we’re talking about today is his underwear, high quality though it may have been. Although The Rt Hon H A L Fisher was the last man, until the present day, to have bought Rock Cottage, he spent most of his time in London and Oxford. However, his wife and daughter, both extraordinary woman in their own rights, lived in Thursley for many years and I will be delving more into their past next month. Special thanks to Sally Scheffers and to Arthur Lindley, the current owner of Rock Cottage, for their help and assistance this month. https://www.iwm.org.uk/history/the-war-on-paper-operation-mincemeat

This article written by Jackie Rickenberg was published in the Parish Magazine in April 2021 Following on from the piece last month on children’s author Monica Edwards, there is a very pleasing connection with this month’s subject, Margaret Woods. She was - in her latter years - a long term Thursley resident, and was a renowned author and poet, but in a strange quirk of fate, she lived all her days in Thursley, in Vine Cottage, also the home today, of Monica’s son, Sean. Margaret lived here for twenty-five years, and Vine Cottage was her last home. Her Times obituary called her “one of the most distinguished women writers of her day” and she moved in the most eminent intellectual circles of the Late Victorian epoch. Her presence in the village, would certainly have lent it an air of distinction. Margaret came from a highly academic family. She was born Margaret Louisa Bradley, although called Daisy by those close to her, and she was the third of seven children of the Reverend George Granville Bradley and his wife Marian. At the time of her birth in 1855, he was a master at Rugby; when she was three, he became Headmaster of Marlborough College; when she was fifteen, Master of University College, Oxford; and when she was twenty-six, Dean of Westminster. One of her two brothers, Arthur G Bradley, wrote numerous works of history and travel, and all four of her sisters published fiction and poetry. A high achieving family, if ever there was one! After being home educated, Daisy’s early work owed much to her admiration of two family friends, Lord Alfred Tennyson, who could reduce her to tears of emotion whilst reading his works aloud in her presence and Matthew Arnold, who had been a pupil of her father’s at Rugby. In April 1928 she was to record a BBC radio interview entitled “A girl’s memories of Tennyson”. Although best known as a poet, her novels also earned the respect of critics. Her marriage at age twenty-four to Henry G Woods, Fellow and Bursar of Trinity College, Oxford, was happy and she was devoted to their three sons born in the 1880’s. However, happiness in her family life could not offset Daisy’s dislike of Oxford society, although there were exceptions when the artist William Rothenstein and poet Laurence Binyon became devoted friends. But she denigrated Oxford life on the whole as “that circle of Purgatory”! No surprise then that in the summer of 1897 her husband announced his sudden resignation as President of Trinity College, and he moved eventually on to an appointment in 1904 as Master of the Temple which took them to the imposing Master’s House, built by Wren, just off Fleet St, London. This enabled Daisy to flourish and become a central figure in the literary scene of that time. However, the death of her husband in 1915 ended this productive and gratifying period of her life. In reduced circumstances, due to the financial irresponsibility of a much-indulged son, she stayed with relatives and friends for some years before settling in Thursley. Vine Cottage, was then owned by Mr Allen from Elstead and let to Mr and Mrs Harbutt, and it was from them that Daisy rented rooms. With her charm and the beauty of her delicate features still apparent, she had no trouble in making friends with her neighbours. She fully participated in village life, attending church, sharing in the work of the Women’s Institute and during the war, helped in the village run canteen. She was well looked after by Mrs Harbutt and Daisy left her an annuity of £26, which must have been well earned, as a grandson was to report that he doubted Daisy could have even boiled an egg! Her strengths lay elsewhere and he remembers her in her seventies flawlessly reciting poetry in the most beautifully resonant voice. During Daisy’s early days at Vine Cottage, she would walk the three quarters of a mile to catch the bus to Godalming – less if good weather permitted a short cut across the fields – and from there she could take a train to London and sometimes onward to Oxford. This meant she could keep up with her literary connections and maintain lifelong friendships. However, a crippling injury in 1934 greatly curtailed her mobility. After alighting from the bus in Thursley at the Red Lion pub (now Bridle Cottage), she was knocked down by a motorcyclist and suffered a broken leg. This meant she had to forego the London meetings of the Royal Society of Literature, on which she served on the Academic Committee, and many other professional engagements. As her physical energy waned, and her eyesight began to fail, research became almost impossible and Daisy published no poetry or fiction. Her final essay, on the Oxford of her girlhood, appeared in 1941, and she passed away at the age of ninety in 1945. In the 1930’s whilst living at Vine Cottage, the artist Thomas B Yates RBA lived almost next door in The Lodge. He painted a most beautiful portrait of her (below)and it was accepted for, and hung in, the 1936 exhibition of The Royal Academy of Arts. A fitting testimony of an admirable woman and yet another famous “Thursleyite”. Note the church in the background. To the Forgotten Dead By Margaret L. Woods To the forgotten dead, Come, let us drink in silence ere we part. To every fervent yet resolvèd heart That brought its tameless passion and its tears, Renunciation and laborious years, To lay the deep foundations of our race, To rear its mighty ramparts overhead And light its pinnacles with golden grace. To the unhonoured dead. To the forgotten dead, Whose dauntless hands were stretched to grasp the rein Of Fate and hurl into the void again Her thunder-hoofèd horses, rushing blind Earthward along the courses of the wind. Among the stars, along the wind in vain Their souls were scattered and their blood was shed, And nothing, nothing of them doth remain. To the thrice-perished dead.

This article written by Jackie Rickenberg was published in the Parish Magazine in January 2021 Malcolm Henry Arnold, composer, 1921 – 2006 We continue on the theme of past Thursley residents who have made their mark in the field of the Arts. In late October, our attention was brought to bear to a very illustrious composer who lived here, albeit briefly, between 1962 and 1965. Sir Malcolm Arnold’s biographer is in the throes of a follow up to his original biography of this widely acclaimed composer of symphonies, ballet’s and film scores, to name but three musical genres he excelled in. As I made some enquiries into this great man, I was struck, not only by his obvious brilliance at his trade, but also by the streak of fun and sense of mischief he brought to life in a quiet Surrey village! The composer Sir Malcolm Arnold, who died at the age of 84, held a remarkable position in British musical life. The longevity of his reputation for more than half a century and the enduring affection of his extensive audience were both achieved without compromise. As a figure in wider national life he never attained the great eminence he undoubtedly deserved, perhaps down to his unconventional approach. However, from his first published works in 1943 to his retirement from composition in 1990, his independence of mind and individual voice won him respect from all sides of the musical world and he was awarded the CBE in 1970 and was knighted in 1993. Arnold began his musical career as a trumpet player and after incomplete studies at the Royal College of Music, London, he joined the London Philharmonic Orchestra in 1940. He remained an orchestral trumpeter until 1948, apart from a period in the army, which he loathed. The bullet wound in his foot which led to his discharge was apparently not from enemy action, nor seemingly from a third party of any sort! His music was full of tunes, technically brilliant, extravert, unselfconscious and fun. His output was huge: nine symphonies, concertos, ballets, chamber music, orchestral suites, choral music, solo songs, and works for wind and brass bands - as well as more than 100 film scores. Some of the more memorable were the David Lean film, Bridge on the River Kwai (for which, in 1958, he was one of the first British composers ever to win an Oscar), Whistle Down the Wind and the St Trinian’s series. Arnold was also known as an enterprising conductor of Jon Lord's Concerto for Group and Orchestra, in which he directed the rock band Deep Purple and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra in 1969. His obituary in 2006 read: With Arnold's death, we lose another of the great individualists who helped make 20th-century British music so gloriously untidy. His time in Thursley is remembered by a few current villagers and it appears he made quite an impression in his short time here. He could be described as a “bit of a character” and we all know one of those! Around this time, he married his second wife, Isabel, and they had a son, Edward, born in Thursley in 1964. He also had a son and daughter from his first marriage to Sheila, Robert and Katherine. He bought the house now called Sawyers, next to the recreation ground. At this time, it was called Canbury Cottage and he extended it to build a studio on the back. Like a lot of brilliant minds, he would lock himself away for weeks at a time whilst he penned his compositions (this room had a bed and washing facilities) and his food would be handed in by a Mrs Winter, who lived in Highfield, and presumably was his cook/housekeeper. After completing a piece or score he would appear, sometimes at two or three in the morning, put on some trick spectacles and climb the nearby lamppost, playing fanfares on his trumpet, to summon everyone to join in the revelry! Notoriously, he once had a summer party at the time when paper clothes were a thing (really?) and he bought all the ladies paper swimsuits, before turning on a sprinkler and waiting for the ensuing panic when the paper started to disintegrate. He was not wholly popular with the neighbours, it would appear! He was a regular at The Three Horseshoes and was often seen theatrically dressed in a flamboyant blazer, whilst marching up and down playing his trumpet. What joys! Sadly, he moved to Cornwall shortly afterwards, in 1965 and eventually passed away in 2006 in Norfolk. An outstanding British composer of our times. If anyone has any subject they would like to hear more about or any particular interest explored in this column, please do contact me at jackierickenberg@gmail.com.

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Photos from a file called Eddie Morgan's Album. The cars and number plates give a clue but the best comes from the Thursley Cricket float which was clearly taken in 1960

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6 February 2017 marked 65 years since The Queen acceded to the throne, becoming the first British Monarch to mark their Sapphire Jubilee. To coincide with the occasion Buckingham Palace re-released a photograph of Her Majesty taken by David Bailey in 2014. In the photograph, The Queen is wearing a suite of sapphire jewellery given to her by King George VI as a wedding gift in 1947.

Thursley was judged Best Kept Village at least twice in the 1970s

Paul Smolas, Peter Broste, Philip Traill, Peter Rickenberg.

5th June 2022, Queen's Platinum Jubilee. Taken by Philip Traill, passing Wheelers Farm.

PARKER, Alfred Nigel, Major. 5th Battalion Queen’s Own Cameron Highlanders Died 23rd October 1944 In the 1922 issue of “Small Country Houses of Today” magazine, Foldsdown House, Thursley, was described as “taking its place naturally and pleasantly in a part of Surrey so beautiful that an ill-considered building is more than usually an outrage” It was here that Nigel Parker grew up, having been born in the September of 1915, to his parents, Alwyn Parker, C.B, C.M.G, a respected diplomat and City banker, and Sophia, a society figure in her own right. He was baptised in the church of St Michael’s and All Saints on October 15th by the Reverend C.K. Watson. His early education took place at St Peter’s Court, a preparatory school in Burgess Hill, Sussex, followed by his moving to Harrow School. After his time at Harrow, he went up to read law at New College, Oxford, in anticipation of a career in the legal profession in the City. Whilst at Oxford, he successfully rowed for his college. After coming down from Oxford, he was articled to the long-established Solicitor’s firm of Linklaters & Paines, in London, where he worked until the outbreak of war in September 1939. As soon as that occurred, he made the decision to join the ranks of the Queen’s Own Cameron Highlanders. It was at this time, in the January of 1940, that he also married the American born twenty-year-old Jean Cecelia Constance Eliott in the Chelsea Register Office, a larger society wedding being impossible at the time, due to his military commitments. They were to have two children, a son, Colin, born in November 1940, and a daughter, Veronica, born two years later, in May 1942. In 1940, The Queen’s went to France as part of the 51st (Highland) Division with the British Expeditionary Force, in an attempt to stem the tide of the German armies which were sweeping down through the Low Countries and into Northern France. When it became apparent that the Allied troops needed to be evacuated, plans were put into force that resulted in the events that, these days, we know simply by one word – Dunkirk. In order to hamper the relentless progress of the Germans, the Queen’s saw action at the town of St. Valery-en-Calais, and it was during this fighting that Nigel Parker was wounded. In the middle of battle, he was shot in one leg by a sniper; falling to the ground, he rolled over, to be then shot in the other leg. It was ironic that it appears that his wearing a kilt (contrary to regulations) in fact saved his life – he was told by his doctor that the kilt had saved him, as a khaki battle dress would have poisoned the wounds. As a result, he was invalided home, where he recovered. He then spent the rest of the war, until 1944, training troops in Scotland, near Inverness. After the D Day landing of June 1944, he re-joined his unit, and once again landed in France. His superior officer, Colonel (later General Sir) Derek Laing sent him in command of D company, as the first British troops to re-enter the newly liberated St. Valery-en-Calais, after it had been forced to surrender back in 1940. This was regarded as a great honour. As the Division moved northwards towards Germany, in October the Queen’s found itself as part of Operation Pheasant, which was a major operation to clear German troops from the province of North Brabant in the Netherlands. And it was here that Nigel Parker fell, in the middle of fierce fighting during the liberation of the town of Schijndel. The night of Sunday 22nd October 1944 was notably dark and cold. For the men of the Queen’s their attack area was an open meadow that they had to pass over, in order to reach the enemy lines. Their target was the elimination of a strong German detachment of Fallschrirmjager soldiers of the German 59th Division, located by a railway line in the De Berg area of Schijndel. At midnight, there was a heavy artillery bombardment in support of the troops, who then proceeded to advance towards the German position. They had to move forward through open meadows as well as marshy peatlands, totally without cover, and they were hit heavily by German machine guns with tracer ammunition as well as sustained mortar fire. It was said that “Hell broke loose”. Major Parker was hit three times in a row, twice he managed to get up, according to eyewitnesses, but the last hit was fatal. The battle continued all night, until at about 6am a group of Sherman tanks appeared, and the Germans withdrew. A total of 12 men were killed that night, plus a further 56 either injured or seriously wounded. The next morning, the 12 dead bodies lying in the field were collected by their own men under the supervision of a Padre Smith and buried in temporary graves nearby, at a local farm owned at the time by the Van Mensvelt family. They were later reburied, with full honours, in the nearby Uden War Cemetery. A fellow soldier on the day of the battle, Sgt George Sands, said of his commander “Major Parker had been a good commander and friend and a very brave man”. This is but one of the many tales relating to the names on our war memorial in the churchyard. There are many more, as each name is included. Please buy a copy of “Thursley Remembers” and keep for future generations to “Never Forget”.

Photographs taken 26th August 2019 by Philip Traill