Out in the East Indies as a young Midshipman in the Navy in1947, I got a letter from my mother, quoting a Christmas toast made by our dad:-

“We are proud of our children five,    Long may they live and thrive.

Where’re their lot in life be cast,      United may they stand steadfast.”

So as a family, we made up a total of seven.   Ralph and I were the ‘Tail End Charlies’, and found ourselves unflatteringly referred to as “the boys”.   Tending to intimate that we were of a lesser and different species!!! Now most things during the thirties used to be supplied in half dozens, so Ralph and I had to share the proper cutlery.

At meals when we found ourselves laying the table, Ralph might have the proper fork and the kitchen knife, and I would end up, vice versa, with the proper knife and the kitchen fork!!  Funnily enough this mild deprivation inevitably created a useful bond between us.

A lasting memory of Ralph was that he was initially left handed. At our kindergarten school entitled “Miss Treglowans”, in Handsworth, Birmingham, it was the tradition in those days to compel children to write with their right hand. The effect of this on Ralph was disastrous in that it made him stutter.   Another difficulty he had was that, he found it nigh impossible to pronounce the letter ‘R’, so when asked, “What is your name boy?” poor soul, the best that he could do was to say, “Walph Bawett!“

The other classic thing I ever recall him saying was, “It’s terrible being the youngest!” and he made it sound entertaining.

In 1939 he arrived at Yarlet Hall, our boarding school during the war. He and I once played our parts in a show called, “Once Aboard the Lugger”. Ralph played the part of the little cabin boy, whilst I played the skipper. So far as I can recall the ship sank, and we managed to get ashore somehow, and planning our trip home again, the Ships Company sang the following line, “We all of us have wives at home a sobbing and a sighing”.--- and then Ralph, as the little cabin boy, piped up,  “Excepting little me, and that is not for want of trying!”

Ralph won a scholarship to Marlborough, and so his name was placed on the school Honours Board.    From then on, we both went our own separate ways.     However we met up exuberantly during the holidays at our new home in Shropshire, Rushbury Rectory.         It was a huge 23 roomed 3 story place.      In Victorian times it had been enlarged to accommodate a rector with his 16 children, and had a garden of three acres, with two orchards, and a lake.  There was also the so-called glebe land for the cow.

We barely appreciated how lucky we were, because our father fixed us up with huge lists of jobs.   There was mowing (Ralph pulled, I pushed), of the vast lawn, and a hundred yards of grass verges.       There was the pig to feed, not to mention cleaning out its sty.            There were chickens, ducks, and rabbits to look after.   And then we found ourselves spending hours struggling to fetch in the reluctant “Blossom” our lovely shorthorn cow, and hand milk her.   Unsurprisingly we constantly sought advice from friendly good neighbourly farmers.

From Marlborough, Ralph went on to earn his degree at Christ’s College Cambridge, where he further went on to graduate in Tropical Agriculture.        When I managed to visit him there once, I vividly recall him showing me round not just his room, the dining hall, and the chapel, but also the laboratories, which must have contained I realise many of those countless specimens meticulously sent back by Charles Darwin on his global travels. Specimens zealously collected whilst trekking countless miles on shore as opportunity arose from aboard the Beagle during the early 19^th Century.

Ralph worked in some seven different countries for varying periods.     He began in Malaya where he was fortuitously present, and therefore able to give our sister Madeline away to the famous journalist of the Singapore Straits Times, John Cecil Behague!  Then there was Sarawak, followed by a short spell in Rangoon, Burma.   It was there that Frank Sreesangkom as a sarong wearing travelling student was available to bring him some missing printing equipment to Rangoon from Bangkok for which Ralph was extremely grateful.          And so it was on to Botswana.        Botswana  was extremely noteworthy, because it was there that he excitedly let on to us that he had met Jean, and together they went on to Oman, Paraguay, and finally Belize.

One of the great things to appreciate about Ralph is the huge contribution he made to Colonial Tropical Agriculture.     As he progressed, so he ran and organised those increasingly vital agricultural colleges out there. He amazingly did 40 years of it, so with his ingenuity and dedication, it’s no small wonder that he found himself inviting family and friends one day to the Overseas Club in London, on the edge of Green Park.  There, we helped him celebrate the award that he had so nobly earned, and had been presented to him that morning by the Queen, It was of course that most prestigious tribute, namely that of the O.B.E., Order of the British Empire.

Sadly Ralph latterly suffered from Parkinson’s Disease, making him a shadow of his former self, which gradually deprived him from taking part in local social activities.  There was SAGWAGs, NADFAS, and of course the Church.    Nonetheless he  persevered, for he had a huge fascination with gardening.     He was a great brother to me, and although we shall all miss him terrbly, we shall treasure his immortal memory, his kindness, generosity, and modesty concerning his exemplary achievements.

In short, as expressed recently in a letter from one of the Gibson Girls in Shropshire, a great friend of ours from yesteryear, “He was indeed, a lovely man.”

Handley Barrett

December 2009