We all have our memories of Tony. My own first ones are of him at Rossall, where he taught from 1954 to 1958. Marching out in khaki on to the parade ground where the whole school was drawn up for CCF weekly inspection, his wire-rimmed glasses glinting in the sunlight (there was occasional sun at Rossall), coming to a halt immaculately and calling out as Adjutant: ’Battalion, battalion, shun! Call the roll!’ Secondly in a rundown sitting-room with green mould creeping up the walls (this was the age of austerity and limited Bursarial resources) showing his slides of classical remains in Greece and North Africa to thirty 13 year-olds cross-legged on the floor.

Tony was always going to teach. It was why he decided to do a University degree, rudely interrupted by the war, and while he was awarded a ‘wartime’ degree he never actually completed his three years at Trinity. Many people think he only taught at Radley: boy at Radley, war, don at Radley. But in fact he was in his late 30s by the time he came back to Radley. He had experienced the war, a spell in advertising, and periods of teaching in Switzerland, and at Hackney Downs Grammar School, Haileybury and Rossall. He clearly realised the importance of getting some teaching in at good schools before returning to Radley.

The War was a defining period for all those who took part in it, and it would be wrong to write this appreciation without mentioning his role in North Africa and Italy. Tony was at Trinity College, Oxford, having completed his first two years there when he was called up. (The army was phoned by the University saying: “Don’t let him join up. He is guaranteed to get a First if he stays here.”) After periods of training in Wales and Scotland, practising landings, in spring 1942 he landed with the Buffs in Algeria, and saw almost immediate action when his platoon was bombed by a German Junkers: his men brought it down, took the crew prisoner and continued on their way to Tunis. It was near Tunis that he won his Military Cross. His Company was leading the attack, and Tony’s platoon was leading the Company. He was leading the platoon. There was a German machine-gun position that needed to be taken. I can’t resist quoting Tony’s own words on the action: ‘I led an attack on a hill on the outskirts of Tunis. I threw a grenade up a slope at a German. Unfortunately for me it rolled back down the hill, where it exploded close behind me. I was wounded by the shrapnel in 6 or 7 places. I did not realise I had been wounded as most of the wounds were out of sight on the back of my body and I felt no pain then. Later in this attack I had rugger-tackled a German and was grappling with him on the ground when a

member of my platoon took a shot at him from a few yards and hit him - unfortunately on its way it hit me too. Just below the base of my spine. Again I felt someone up there was taking care of me.” He was evacuated to Tunis, and hospitalised in Algiers. There was no question of returning home for convalescence. Once recovered (after several months) he flew out to Naples with the battalion, and became Intelligence Officer for three battalions working their way up Italy. Naples, Monte Cassino, Rome, Padua and into Austria, fighting all the way. When the Brigade was then disbanded he was in Vienna for several months as Intelligence Officer.

His wartime experiences are central to his unique contribution at Radley.

While at Rossall he applied to Radley and several other schools. When he arrived at Radley he was interviewed by Wyndham Milligan who told him the position available was Head of Geography. He was offered it, in his words, on the principle that ‘anyone can teach Geography’. The only other subjects he had to teach in the course of his career were Latin, Divinity, English, History and French. He was to run Lawn Tennis and to serve in the CCF as Major Money. Later he was to run football (regarded as a rather louche sport by the establishment) for many years and he refereed in long floppy, faded blue shorts. He was believed to have played for Arsenal in his youth, or was it the Cup-winning Corinthian Casuals team? In 1970 he presided over the foundation of the Grapevine Society (for the appreciation and understanding of wine) which he ran for 30 years: many Radleians went into the wine trade as a result of their Grapevine experiences.

Tony was a popular teacher. He liked his pupils and they responded to his enthusiasm and his balanced view of things. He came to have a wide and and eclectic knowledge of geography and he was the best sort of form teacher. He did not speak about his war experiences and they somehow became mythologised with his iconic football past. He gave loyal service to F Social as a Sub Tutor, having boys round to his rooms in the Mansion. Socialising with AEM (‘Zoot’ or ‘Funny Money’) was fine. Boys liked him. Old Radleians who had come to see him in perspective grew to love him as someone who embodied all that was best about their old school. In his final years teaching, before the great era of Appeals and Archives he became something of a cult figure. Their fathers had told of his war exploits. He was a good deal more sane than most of their other teachers.

For Radley was far more than just teaching. From 1963 to 1988 Tony was Honorary Secretary of the Radleian Society, and from 1968 till he retired to Steyning this year he was President of Common Room. In these roles he looked after the two constituencies: old boys and dons. Both could be difficult, but Tony combined infinite firmness with infinite tact and excelled in both positions. A speaker at the OR dinner wanting to get a bit of OR street cred only needed to mention Tony’s name for a cheer to echo round the room. His work as Secretary was meticulous. He knew so many ORs, and as an ex-Adjutant and Intelligence Officer he knew the importance of accuracy! His knowledge of Radley and its ORs is still today voluminous and he collects in Steyning all the obituary notices from the Times and Daily Telegraph and sends them to the Radleian Society office. He, with the help of Tony Gardiner’s daughter Sue Brown (now Sue Van Oss), continued the devoted work of Vyvyan Hope and Peter Stuart and made the Radleian Society a formidable network.

The extent of this became clear with the Appeals of the late 70s and 80s. The Silk and Money Roadshow toured the country homes of hospitable ORs fuelled by Coronation Chicken and plenty of wine. There had been a minimally successful appeal in the 60s which had resulted in the building of the so-called new classrooms (now demolished) but insufficient cash to finance a new theatre. After the sale of the Peachcroft land it was decided to launch an appeal in 1976 primarily to build an Arts and Design centre. Much of the fund-raising centred on social events held at generous ORs’ houses. Tony did an immense amount of work setting this up, and the result was a hugely successful appeal, reaching its target of £300,000 within a year. This largely financed the building of the Sewell Centre, as fine an Art and Design centre as any public school’s in England. In addition the Golf Course was designed and laid out from further money donated to the Appeal. Ongoing contributions to the Friends of Radley College Trust resulted in the Sports Hall, the Languages Block and the Silk Hall being built. From being a rather dowdy and even dilapidated establishment in the mid-60s Radley by the late 80s had the finest of facilities. He must take much of the credit for the success of these appeals. Likewise for the discreet but ongoing work of the War Memorial Committee of which he was the Honorary Secretary for many years.

Was an eyebrow raised at ‘intellectual rigour’ in my first paragraph? It was in his final role as Archivist that this quality was transparent. His most recent pamphlet on the Retable (also known as a reredos) in Chapel is original and scholarly. But he wrote a succession of pamphlets and books which showed profound research, cool assessment of evidence and a fluent and readable style. These include Looking at Radley (with Michael Cherniavsky), Manly and Muscular Diversions in Victorian Times, Football at Radley, Wartime Defences in Oxfordshire and The Radley Altarpiece. When the archives came to be inspected by the National Archives’ representatives last year they received the strongest of commendations as ‘a very significant historical collection worthy of the utmost care and preservation.’At first these were in a room at the top of the Music School, then they were on the ground floor of the Bursary, finally being transferred to his own rooms in the Mansion: the supreme archivist surrounded by his supreme archives. They now have a splendid new home in the Library in the Tony Money Archive Centre.

If I have left his position as President of Common Room to the end, it is deliberate, as it is here that his most profound influence was felt and over a long period of time (1967-2007).While protective of the better traditions of Common Room he was both adaptable to change and diplomatic in achieving change amid some less flexible colleagues. His hospitality was famous both in Common Room itself and in his own rooms above with his legendary Sunday morning parties. (It was rumoured that this set of rooms had only been occupied throughout Radley’s history by two dons: Rev Kitty Wharton and Tony Money). With wisdom, tact, finely tuned man-management and an innate understanding of Radley he guided generations of young, sometimes gauche, sometimes foolhardy, sometimes raw young dons through Common Room life to maturity and in almost all cases to a shared love of Radley. This love of Tony’s is in no way sentimental. It is a tough life-time commitment to an organic and developing school. He is as aware of the school’s potential weaknesses as of its virtues, and is a shrewd judge of both colleague and boy. The former was particularly apparent in his annual farewell speeches at the Common Room Leavers party where he combined a real knowledge of the colleague leaving with warmth, generosity and humour.

In someone so modest and self-deprecating, and at the same time so influential and dedicated it would be wrong to end on a hyperbolic or emotional note. But I leave you with a picture which for me epitomises his service to his country and his service to Radley: a figure, elderly, slightly stooping but still with something military in his gait, walking up the nave of Chapel on Remembrance Sunday each year accompanied by the youngest boy in the school, bearing to the altar the wreaths in memory of those Radleians who had fallen in the two Great Wars.