Tribute to my father, Charles Courtenay Lloyd (1919 - 2021); his life and times. Thank you for the journey. RIP.

 Madrid, November, 2021. 

Spring 2019, wearing his Selwyn College tie when he was visited by Cambridge University to honour his 100th year as their oldest living alumni. 

Tribute  to my father. Thank you for the journey.

Charles Courtenay Lloyd. Born Amington, Staffordshire, 1^st May, 1919. Died Madrid 8^th November, 2021 aged 102. Son of  Revd. John Collins Lloyd and Dorothy Gertrude Scull an accomplished pianist.

On Monday 8th November at 21.13h,  my father, Charles Courtenay Lloyd, died peacefully at his home of 16 years in Madrid surrounded by his loving family. We were with him to the end. His journey in life was remarkable; a life lived to the full. He was a WW2 Royal Naval veteran officer who contributed to the Liberation of Norway. He fought for peace in Europe and was one of the very few left to do so. For that alone his life is remarkable.

He spent a year after the war attached to the British Admiralty in Oslo where he worked for naval disarmament. He was part of the mission to supervise the surrender of the German forces in Norway and restoring law and order. There began too his love of Norway and the language which he learned to speak as a native. He was awarded the King Haakon VII “Liberty Medal” for “outstanding services in connection with the liberation of Norway”.

From Oslo he was recruited as an Intelligence officer for the Allied Control Commission in Germany.  There he helped the country back on its feet but also caught Nazis on the run. 

My father’s education was of the best. He was an Old Cliftonian and graduate of Selwyn College Cambridge.  After the war and after graduating, he was recruited as a teacher of Russian to  spies at the rather secret  Joint Services School of Languages in the Cold War in Cambridge.  He was a phenomenal polyglot always interested in languages and the origin of words. He married a Russian princess, my mother, Her Serene Highness Elena Von Lieven to whom he was a loving husband. Their first kiss happened at the library  of the spy school in Salisbury Villas in Cambridge. Typical it would be in a library; they were both book mad. He was an inspirational teacher of languages at Bradford Grammar School from 1964-1983. He made an amazing mark on so many of his pupils who went on to study languages at Oxford and Cambridge and to have successful careers. He was a wonderful grandfather to my daughters Suzy and Olivia and was amazed to become the great grandfather of Elliot and Juliet. That made me so happy.

He was all of these things yet he never blew his own trumpet so that is my job now. Above all he was the most amazing father anyone could have and I had the privilege of having him with me for so many years. That brings me comfort. He was always there for me for whatever I needed. He encouraged me in my studies, listening patiently to and correcting the boring history essays I wrote for A levels, visiting me at University  and writing to me every week.  I treasure those letters. He was proud of my becoming a wife and mother and proud of my career.  My most cherished memory is of him walking me down the aisle on the day of my wedding.  I learned so much from him and his positive attitude; mainly that beauty can be glimpsed even in the ugliest places and that happiness is to be found in the small things in life. That coming from a man who lost everyone, his brother Raymond of polio, his sister Gloria and her family in an air crash and his own son and wife to cancer, is extraordinary. He showed me you have to go on. He is one of a kind and the end of an era, a true English gentleman.  They  don’t make them like that anymore. So, I shall carry on like he always did and appreciate the good things in life, however small.

My father’s greatest pleasures in life were reading, learning languages,  geography and modern history and he always kept up with world affairs.  He was very knowledgeable but also very humble. He never thought much of his own academic abilities but had an innate ability to pass on his knowledge in such a way to his pupils that they never forgot him. But I was proud of him. Even at the end he was still reading in various languages. One of his favourite authors was Theodore Storm and he read and reread the book called “Immensee”. He had bought it in Germany in 1938 just before the war broke out and it was published in gothic script which he could read perfectly. I think that is pretty immense. His other great passions in life were nature and walking. He was an enthusiastic walker but never drove a car and he was never happier than walking on Ilkley Moor during his years living in Yorkshire. He would take me with him and call me his “little Moors’ girl”. I didn’t really like climbing but didn’t like to tell him so. What I loved though was coffee and cakes at Bettys afterwards. Later I too inherited his love of nature and walking.  Anything I know about nature comes from him. He was obsessed with the weather and weather reports and listening to “foreign stations” on his short wave radios. His other more hidden pleasures were chocolates and cakes. His favourites were Mars bars, Topics, Rolos, Turkish delight, Walnut whip, Crunchie and, my favourite too, Bounty Bar.  He would hide them in his desk and eat them while marking his pupils’ homework. He also liked the occasional tipple, especially a glass of vodka in the company of Russians or a glass of good wine with his food.  I have inherited his sweet tooth that’s for sure. Whenever we took him out for a meal he was always more interested in the “puddings”, going for “the biggest and the best”. Me too. I always judge a restaurant by its dessert menu.

As a man, my father was extremely shy and modest. As a child he had a picture of a fawn above his bed with the words “be a good beast, suffer in silence” and that was his motto in life. Whenever tragedy struck, he went on with life but suffering in silence. His last school report from Clifton College includes the comments “unable to express his feelings”, “dreamy” but a “perfectly reliable boy”. That he certainly was.  As my father could not express his feelings that is why he never hugged me, kissed me or told me he loved me. But I knew he did through his actions. He was no talker. That was my mother’s realm. He would sit listening quietly and politely hardly ever adding anything to the conversation. Once when my parents were hosting guests my mother said: “stop everyone, I think Courtenay is about to say something”. That made him laugh but he nodded and smiled silently. He only came into his own in class. Old boys who have reached out over the years describe a totally different man to the one I knew, a man who was passionate about his task; an inspirational teacher, somewhat eccentric but who passed on his knowledge in such a way as to make his lessons unforgettable.

Even at the end of his journey when life became difficult, he never once complained, always smiling. When I asked him how he was he would always say the same thing: “very well, thanks to you”. I wish I had done more.  When he had little left of what could be called quality of life, he still went on and continued reading the newspaper every day and his academic books as well as my blog which he looked forward to every Sunday. On his desk today you will find his glasses, his magnifying glass, his watch, a calendar, photos of his wife and family, his very British green corduroy cap and my book which he read countless times. My proudest achievement in life was writing his biography on the occasion of his 100^th birthday. Also, on his desk was the biography of his contemporary Captain Tom Fox  which I bought him for Christmas and a  book about his beloved  Shetland Islands where he was stationed for a while during the war and always, always there too, was the Oxford Dictionary of First names. He was fascinated with words. I hope these words do him justice.

When I think about his longevity, I ask myself what was the key to it. I think the answer comes from his positive attitude, his genes of course, luck possibly too but also his moderate consumption of food and drink, his endless walking, his thirst for knowledge and the fact that he led a very disciplined life. But when I think of all he has seen in 102 years it is mind boggling to realise he outlived 3 British monarchs; George V, Edward VIII and George VI. A few days ago, we discussed the Queen’s demise and he considered her “quite young”!  He also outlived too many British Prime Ministers to count but there are some big names there that are history for us but he lived through their leadership. When he was born the PM was none other than David Lloyd George. He was a young man when Stanley Baldwin, Ramsey Macdonald, Winston Churchill, Clement Atlee, Anthony Eden and Harold Macmillan were at Downing Street. A staunch conservative, my father was a great fan of Margaret Thatcher until even he tired of her when she said “and we will go on and on and on”. 

I realise too that he has been a witness to how life has changed so radically in these 102 years and how he has had to adapt to modern life. When he was born the radio, the telephone and electric light as well as cars were a novelty but very slowly. In 102 years so much has developed technologically. He wanted to keep up but his arthritic hands could not manage a mouse on a computer nor a mobile phone so he could not experience the internet. However, he knew all about it and was fascinated. He kept asking me what Facebook and Twitter were and I tried to explain the best I could. Letters, so much a part of his life, have nearly died out and I think he was astonished at instant messaging, e-books,  emails and video calls, not to mention artificial intelligence and virtual reality which for us are now the norm.  However, it took his lifetime for them to become so. His journey in life has been very, very rich in so many ways. 

My father saw me being born and I saw him die. I saw him at his strongest and at his weakest, in his darkest hour, yet he never complained, always grateful. He was brought up in the Anglican church  and I think his faith helped him. Whenever any of us were going through difficult times, he would always say “I am praying for you”. I am praying for him now, praying that he is reunited with my mother and brother and that he is watching  us from above as he takes his final journey, as the sailor he was. I can only say, Daddy, you have left a gaping hole in our lives but thank you for the journey and for all that we have learned from you. God bless you RIP. 

Your loving daughter, Masha and all her family, Eladio, Suzy, Oli, Miguel, Elliot and Juliet. 

PS You would be amazed at all the tributes pouring in, the press coverage including your obituary on the front page of the Telegraph and Argus, messages from your old boys and even your school BGS (Bradford Grammar School) flying the flag at half mast to honour you. If you knew, you would say “what is all the fuss about?” and probably tell me “but I wasn’t a hero”. But oh yes you were and you deserve all this credit and more. 

Clifton College Bristol 1933 aged 14. A very handsome boy

Matriculation photo Selwyn College Cambridge 1938. His studies were interrupted one year later to enroll with the Navy. I wonder how many of these men survived the war and went back to graduate. 

HMS Wells, Scotland 1942 as a young officer with the RN.

Walking the streets of Cambridge as a new teacher on the spy courses in the early 50's Notice the socks over his trousers as he usually rode a bicycle.

Cambridge just after we moved. With my father, mother and brother George. About 1961

My parents at the Norwich Russian courses at the University of East Anglia where they taught every summer for many years. Late 70's or early 80's. 

A very happy day - my wedding day, Madrid 21st August 1983. Possibly the last photo of our family together. A photo I treasure. 

La Rioja Spain with my family, his son in law Eladio and granddaughters Olivia left and Suzy right. 

My father pleased as punch to meet Elliot his first great grandchild, September 2019. 

My father lived long enough to meet Juliet his great granddaughter - September 2021