27. Family and other Human Resources
Our family had settled into a gabled house called Little Timbers in Newlands and at the time of my arrival, my father was on an extended deputation trip to Australia and New Zealand. Brenda, now a qualified teacher at Simonstown High School, boarded near her work during the week, coming home on weekends to share a room with Joan. Graham had begun his studies at the University of Cape Town (UCT) and lived in an outside room that offered easy comings and goings. Howard and Joan were both at Westerford High School, and Howard made space for me in his room. I was thrilled to be reunited with everyone, but my return was more than a holiday—it was time to look to the future and establish a career.
Before acting on my mother's suggestion to network through Uncle Jim and the Wynberg Boys’ School alumni, I applied for several advertised personnel officer roles. While these interviews confirmed my passion and aptitude for human resources, the specific organizations offered no viable path forward; one declined my application, and the other provided no feedback. Ultimately, my unique training and background—unconventional within the South African market—left many employers uncertain of how to best integrate my skills.
Since that option fell through, I contacted Harold Fay, a Wynberg old boy then working as a Personnel Manager for Metal Box in Epping 4. Harold connected me with another Wynberg alumnus, Dave "Pengie" Richardson. This networking led to an invitation to fly to Johannesburg for an interview. Upon landing, a company driver met me and took me directly to the Vanderbijlpark plant for my assessment.
The trip was a success, and I was offered a position as a Personnel Assistant with a starting salary of R250 per month. I was absolutely elated and I returned to the Cape to fetch my few belongings and say farewell to the family. My Uncle and Aunt Hugh and Jill Mathew put me up for the night and Jill drove me to Vanderbijlpark the next day, giving me one of her pots. She felt sure I would need something to start off with in the kitchen!
Vanderbijlpark was part of the Vaal Triangle, a prominent industrial hub in South Africa located about 60 km south of Johannesburg. The region takes its name from the geographic triangle formed by three core cities: Vereeniging, Vanderbijlpark, and Sasolburg, which straddles the Vaal River. These towns hosted major steel, metal, coal, and petrochemical operations. At the time, apartheid was heavily enforced. Black citizens were restricted to townships outside the city centers, while the smaller White population lived closer to urban amenities. I initially stayed with a fellow personnel officer and his family, Bart de Lange, but soon found a one-roomed apartment near the city centre and I was able to buy some very basic furniture. Not that I worried, I was never very interested in decor.
At the time—the first half of 1971—Rod Fick was serving as a personnel officer, and Doreen Becker was an aspiring Personnel Assistant. Once I completed the induction program, I transitioned smoothly into core personnel responsibilities. As a personnel assistant, my role required me to engage with workers of all races. I collaborated with two Black Personnel Officers who had a separate office, Chris Mokoena (who came later) and Gish Nyalambisa, and occasionally visited their homes.
My first assignment was to reorganize the filing system. This task helped me memorize employees' names and learn which sections of the tin canning factory they belonged to. Later, I progressed to interviewing job applicants, evaluating their potential, placing them in suitable roles, and managing their departmental induction and onboarding. This experience gave me a comprehensive understanding of how the different parts of the factory interconnected. Furthermore, my previous time spent working on a factory floor in Germany proved invaluable, allowing me to empathize with the workers' daily challenges and effectively prepare them for their tasks.
Outside of work, I built a strong community through Rod and Mal Fick and their family, who frequently hosted me for meals and introduced me to the Vanderbijlpark Baptist Church - pictured below after a morning service. I jumped in wholeheartedly and quickly found a home in this encouraging faith community. The pastor, Fred Arnot, and his wife, Nora—a hospitable local school mathematics teacher—made me feel incredibly welcome. Another member, "Prof." Snyman, became a mentor to me and several others through a monthly graduate Bible fellowship group hosted by him and his wife Bea. As a young bachelor, I was frequently invited into the homes of families like the Marxes, the Vermootens, and the Venters. Kotie, Margaret, John and Ruth Venter were exceptionally kind to me; they even looked after my little dog, Brutus, while I was away in the UK, eventually adopting him into their own family.
Just six months into my new job, I was selected for the Metal Box Company graduate management training programme in the UK. I spent my first month at the London head office on Baker Street, staying at the nearby White House Hotel. The initial training mostly involved corporate orientation, and I soon fell into the trainees’ culture of post-work pub crawls, rather shocked but certainly not objecting.
During this time, I had an unexpected connection to Beirut when I ran into a former Lebanese classmate. She had married and accompanied her husband to London on business, but with him busy working, she was left to her own devices. We chatted at the hotel; homesick and isolated, she was rather unhappy and clearly disappointed with how her London trip had turned out.
In total, I spent ten memorable months in the UK gaining cross-functional management training with Metal Box. While my focus was broad—covering production control, quality assurance, work study, and disciplinary procedures—human resources became a central pillar. This journey took me across various Metal Box facilities, including Speke, Southwark, and a three-week stint in Southampton.
My HR exposure deepened during a one-month assignment in Poole, followed by three months in Neath, South Wales. In Neath, I was tasked with completely reorganizing the massive factory’s personnel files—a feat my wife still finds hard to believe! I quickly fell in love with the Welsh accent, especially the cheerful greeting from a young colleague in the department who always asked with a distinctive lilt, “Hello, are you happy?” During my time there, I lived in a small, furnished bachelor flat for just a guinea a week and joined the company rugby team, which led to a standout memory: playing on the hallowed grounds of Llanelli before a small, enthusiastic crowd.
Over the Christmas holidays, I flew to Belfast, Northern Ireland, to stay in Coleraine with Dr. Bill and Marion Holley. They were dear family friends whom my parents had originally introduced during their Bible school days in England. Together, we attended a midnight Presbyterian service to ring in the new year of 1972. It was a turbulent era for Northern Ireland. Somewhat naive to the immediate dangers, I decided to hitchhike to Londonderry and Enniskillen before returning to Belfast. The reality of the Troubles hit home abruptly when a nail bomb detonated near a café where I was enjoying a cup of coffee in Londonderry. Following that sobering eye-opener, I returned to London, staying at the Norfolk Square Hotel while wrapping up my training with interview skills workshops at the Head Office.
Rather than flying straight back to South Africa, I detoured through Turkey and Lebanon on my way to Johannesburg. I spent a few nights in Istanbul, where visiting the majestic Hagia Sophia instantly brought my Byzantine history studies to life. I thoroughly enjoyed the delicious street food, which felt wonderfully reminiscent of my time in Lebanon. From Istanbul, I caught a flight to Beirut with a layover in Adana. For reasons that never became clear, we were all taken off the plane there, forced to have our baggage opened and inspected, and then re-boarded. Once in Lebanon, I stayed with John Sagherian and his family, using their home as a base to visit Awal Zarif. John was working with Youth for Christ, and it was a sweet, familiar reconnection. I had no idea when I left Beirut that year that it would be my last time setting foot in the country.
Back in Vanderbijlpark, I was officially appointed as a Personnel Officer, tasked with recruiting talent for various emerging vacancies. To accommodate my dog, Brutus, and host friends, I rented a small house on a large plot right along the banks of the Vaal River. Because this peaceful spot sat further out of town, I needed reliable transport and bought a second-hand BMW motorbike from Rod Fick.
I remember quite a few family members came to visit me there, though I can’t recall the exact sequence. Brenda (pictured below with Brutus and me) came in her VW Beetle, I think from Aberdeen where she had relocated. Once, Dad came to visit and I inexplicably decided to ride my 500 cc BMW motorbike to Cape Town. The bike broke down near Bloemfontein, but Dad saved the day. He found some barbed wire in a nearby field and rigged a tow rope. He then towed me to the Bloemfontein station, where we loaded the BMW onto a Cape Town-bound train. I spent the rest of the journey in the passenger seat of Brenda’s VW Beetle, enjoying the drive with Dad.
Graham and I embarked on an epic road trip through Swaziland, exiting near the Pongola River and heading down towards St Lucia. After a night of being eaten alive by mosquitoes while trying to sleep in the car, we drove north until we escaped the infested area to get some undisturbed rest. The next day, we returned to Vanderbijlpark for a brief visit before Graham headed back.
Howard also came to visit me at Loch Vaal when was called up for his national service. He came to visit, and we spent our time buzzing around on a Vespa scooter I had recently bought. Eventually, he had to return to his training in Pretoria. That reliable little Vespa served me well for years, until I finally sold it to Howard when I moved to Cape Town. (Picture of Graham and Howard playing with Brutus at Loch Vaal).
I expected to stay in Vanderbijlpark for a few years, but the South African government soon caught up with me. At the time, conscription was mandatory for all white South African men, with imprisonment being the alternative. While I had secured exemptions while studying in Beirut and completing graduate training in the UK, my luck ran out shortly after returning home. I received a draft letter ordering me to report to Valhalla, Pretoria, for basic training.
Being older than the typical recruit, the administrators were initially puzzled about where to place me. Ultimately, they assigned me to the medical corps and stationed me at the Simonstown Naval Base. Although commissioned as an army second lieutenant, I worked in a navy setting and stayed at the officers' club, Rhodesia-By-The-Sea. Under Lieutenant Henry Vos, I conducted psychological testing and evaluations for new naval recruits.
During my time in Cape Town, I attended Wynberg Baptist Church and joined its youth group. This was the home church of my extended Lanz and Mathew family. It was here, in a time and place I never could have anticipated, that one of the most important chapters of my life began.
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