The origins of the German School in London

By Jürgen Sudhoff
Second Secretary 1968-1971

In the spring 1968 I was sent as re-enforcement to the Cultural Department of the German Embassy in London. It was in Ambassador Herbert Blankenhorn's era. The indomitable Brigitte Lohmeyer presided over the Kulturabteilung, indeed she was German Kultur in the British capital. That explains what Freiraum (free space) a young diplomat like myself could expect. Very little! Apart from helping with the selection of scholarships and answering written enquiries, I was allowed to attend a few opera festivals in the provinces which were not regarded attractive enough for the Ambassador's or the Cultural Counsellor's presence.

What is a young man to do when, after a long training and attaché apprenticeship, he wants something to get his teeth into, something possibly of lasting value? He looks for a "niche". I found just such a niche. The Embassy's files contained something called "German School, London" which itself was already something of an archival relic, faded and dusty. Generations of clever colleagues before me had tried their hands at it but our superiors were not interested. For the idea of a German School for our many compatriots in England had proved impracticable. What the parents wanted and what our Ministry for Foreign Affairs could afford clashed with the reality of the astronomical prices of the London real estate market.

However, an association of parents interested in the idea had already been formed and was very active, especially Hubert Renner, the chairman, and Wolfgang Klerner. We met and got on well and when I told them that I saw it as my major task in London to make this school possible, they were full of encouragement to turn my enthusiasm into action, remained how-ever, I felt, sceptical about my chances of success. Each weekend we looked at what the estate agents had to offer, a marvellous way of getting to know London! But it was always the same story -- either these properties were too small and we could just have afforded them, or they were what we wanted but the prices made it meaningless even to enter into further discussions. Our weekend searches took on an ever-widening circle from the centre. The estate agents already knew me as the man who wanted something on the scale of Regent's Park for the price of a basement flat in the East End.

But I well remember the day when I first walked down the gravel path leading to the small, charming Douglas House on the banks of the Thames at Petersham, Richmond. The Parents Association was all in favour,but to convince our Ministry of the usefulness of the enterprise was not so easy. The price, almost 3 million Pounds, made them shudder. And the location was not exactly in the centre of London which many parents would probably have preferred, but it was a house and grounds with great potential - a large freehold property in a delightful London suburb, not difficult to get to from Central London.

I cannot recall whether I ever discussed the project with my immediate boss or even with the Ambassador. I rather doubt it. But I do remember my trip to Bonn and the weary discussions in which I described the advantages of Petersham as best I could. My discussion partners, however, were not only the Cultural Department of our Ministry but also some members of the Federal Parliament concerned with budget matters. They took an interest in the idea of a German School in London and supported it, and that helped. Finally, perhaps from exhaustion, Bonn consented to the purchase - and surprisingly quickly! The property would clearly not have remained on the market for long. Then followed some negotiations with the owners who were persuaded to accept a lower offer. Our lawyer, the unforgettable Raymond Vere Nicholl, helped with the careful and balanced advice of a solicitor trained in the City of London.

Then came the day of signing the deeds. Ambassador Blankenhorn found himself confronted by a wad of documents which he had up to that moment neither seen nor read. I'll never forget the way he looked up at me, asking: "Are you sure it has all been checked?" I swallowed nervously, touched by his trust and nodded assent. This was sufficient for the representative of our Government to finalise the matter.

What then followed was not much more than clearing-up operations. First we put up a pre-fabricated school building, then -- I had long left London -- the modern school as it stands in Petersham today. We had to find a Director for the school and I remember the moving-in of the first one to assume his task with great engagement and devotion. Meanwhile Blankenhorn had been replaced by Karl-Günther von Hase, and we were able to present him with the completed school project. In September 1971 the Inauguration was held. Somehow it seemed like my own birthday or at least the birthday of my own child.