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August 04, 2004
Reunion
Today I made the arrangements for my trip to South Africa where I grew up and went to school. Quite a good school, too, as I have indicated before on this blog. The Selborne Schools have a very good reputation in SA, which is saying something for a state school. It has a proud history as well - not to be compared with Eton, Harrow, or any of those ancient establishments, but for a young country its history goes back to the beginnings of the small city it is part of.
I had the good fortune, by something of an unusual twist of circumstances, of being the third generation to attend the schools, my Grandfather (born an "Army Brat" at Fort Glamorgan in 1882) having been among its early pupils before, even, the Primary and College became the Selborne Schools. My father followed almost a generation later - he being the last of a family of four brothers and sisters and twelve years younger than the oldest brother, and, by coincidence also born in what had now become East London. The original Fort Glamorgan, a military outpost guarding the military landing beaches at what is now South Africa's only river port on the Buffalo River, having become Port Rex and then the thriving "city" of East London by the turn of the century.
The schools had been renamed in 1907 after the then Governor of the Cape Colony, Lord Selborne (his decendents still farm at Selborne in Hampshire) becoming Selborne Primary School and Selborne College. In the Anglo-Boer War of 1899 - 1902 boys from the school had provided support for the troops passing through the port, and some had gone on to serve in the local Regiment, the Kaffrarian Rifles. Others, like my Grandfather, had been recalled to the regiments they had been members of for the duration of that conflict. Again in 1914 - 18 the school provided many volunteers for service in the Army and the Navy, and boys/young men from Selborne College fought in German South West Africa, in Tanganyika, and in France and Flanders. The Schools War Memorial and the Ceremony of the Key still bear mute testimony to the lives lost in that conflict. Lives given willingly (South African forces in both World Wars were all volunteers) in the belief that they were fighting to preserve something worthwhile and to make it even better. This was repeated in 1939 - 45 when there was no shortage of volunteers from this school to serve in Burma, The Far East Theatre, Ethiopia, North Africa, Italy, and even Normandy.
This year I and my fellow matriculants of forty years ago are gathering to remember our days there and to honour those of our fellows who have not survived as we have. Some have died defending causes they believed in, others have been victims of accidents or illness. We will also be there for the annual Ceremony of the Key, remembering our predecessors (my generation are the children of the men who fought World War II) and those who gave their lives to give us the opportunities we have had.
It is certainly interesting looking through the list of the ninety or so of us who finished on that hot December day forty years ago. Some have done extremely well for themselves, some have done very well for others, and some have made a permanent mark. Others have passed through life much as they passed through school. There are clergy, there are businessmen, bankers, doctors, professors, artists, accountants, lawyers, teachers, a firefighter, actors, journalists; those who have made their mark in sport, and those who have not. One way or another we all have had a good start and will hopefully be able to say at the end of the journey that we made good use of it.
We won't all be there because many have scattered abroad, as the hymn says, and cannot, because of the costs and other ties, make the trip back. All have been contacted and most have responded. It will be good to see people I have not seen for all of that forty years, and to renew acquaintance; it will be even better to be able to renew friendships that I have maintained even at a distance.
The programme consists of several informal functions, the Founders Day Ceremonial at the War Memorial, a formal dinner, and a church service of thanksgiving. I wasn't sure about going at all when I started looking into this, but now I am glad I will be able to be there and to meet these friends once more. That is what makes us humans special; we form communities, and within those communities we develop special bonds. In those we find our roots, wherever we may be.
Posted by The Gray Monk at August 4, 2004 09:57 PM