Charles Illingworth, the son of a Halifax businessman, had a life spanning four periods: the first before and during the first world war as schoolboy, sea-scout, munitions worker, farmer's boy, student, airman and prisoner of war; the second his surgical training with Sir David Wilkie in Edinburgh, where he carried out his initial research on the gall bladder, leading to an MD with gold medal; the third as Professor in Glasgow and the fourth in retirement. It was during the third that he earned world-wide fame and was appointed CBE, honorary surgeon to the Queen and was created a knight. On Illingworth's appointment to Glasgow University, the principal, Sir Hector Hetherington (Illingworth was later to write his biography), indicated that the new regius professor should concentrate his efforts on developing the surgical school in the widest sense, a task which Illingworth interpreted as 'picking winners, to infuse them with the spirit of enquiry and to give them a diversity of training to enable them to meet the challenge of future developments in the surgical craft'. During the years of the second world war there was little opportunity other than to keep things going; although he still managed to revise his classic texts on surgery and surgical pathology; to write a thesis on jaundice for his ChM degree (awarded with honours); a new book on peptic ulcer; and help plan emergency medical services for the south-west of Scotland. The turning point came in 1954, when the university built a surgical research department in the Western Infirmary in continuity with his wards. This allowed Illingworth to attract young men and women to his department, most having had research experience in the US, notably at the Mayo Clinic. These men, trained to combine surgical practice and teaching with research, carried his example to medical schools worldwide. During the 1950s 'his boys' were appointed to chairs in Sheffield, London, Cardiff, Aberdeen, Brisbane and Chicago, as well as to the Royal Infirmary in Glasgow. All set up flourishing clinical and research departments, a pattern continuing up to the time of his retirement in 1964. A professor of surgery is expected to be pre-eminent in a branch of clinical surgery; to plan and administer the training of undergraduate and postgraduate students; to direct research; to undertake committee work; to become involved in national and international affairs; and to 'show the flag' by lectures in other schools. Charles Illingworth excelled in all. He was a neat, precise, fast and decisive surgeon, operating with a minimum of fuss and assistance. His ward visits started precisely at 9.15, this allowing his house surgeons time to carry out routine investigative tasks. He expected senior and junior staff to be thoroughly conversant with the progress of patients under their care, although one suspected that he gave more credibility to his ward sister's opinion. His clinical teaching, with his students sitting around a bed, was equally precise: imparting facts, not opinions, with great economy of words. He admitted disliking committee work and his 'black or white' approach did not always endear him to his colleagues. But he did greatly enjoy service with the University Grants Committee and was a most caring President of the Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons of Glasgow, which he steered through the early days of a new charter. At that time attendance at College lectures by his staff was mandatory. But it was his stimulation of research effort by critical inquiry, and by the provision of resources, which was his greatest gift to academic surgery. One of his greatest pleasures was to show visitors around his department, sitting down with them in the laboratories and describing the work being done. Stairs were for running up and down; beds for sleeping in. The morning after his prostate operation he was seen exercising in his department and, a few days later, on the top of Ben Lomond. Pomposity, patronage and privilege were spurned with a most subtle humour; the fashionable consultant was anathema. When he had open-heart surgery performed at the age of 82 he demanded a bed in the open ward. He was a 'workaholic', completely immersed in his department, university and college; but fortunately he was blessed with an equally remarkable wife, ('Lady I') who provided for their four boys, attended social functions, engaged in charities, entertained visitors and kept a motherly eye on the entire department. One might have thought that after retirement he would relax, but no. Having polished off two further books he founded Scottish Tenovus, which raised over £2m for medical research. By providing a substantial amount of money to cover administrative costs, he also ensured that donations were used only for research. For a measure of his attributes, one can consider his recruitment to the initial Tenovus of an eminent cleric of the Church of Scotland, an archbishop of the Church of Rome, and a Chief Rabbi: despite the fact that he himself was no churchman. Illingworth was elected to fellowships of every significant college of surgeons throughout the world, and received honorary degrees from several universities. From 1961 to 1965 he was Surgeon to the Queen in Scotland. In 1963 he received the Lister Medal in recognition of his contribution to surgical science, in particular for his work on jaundice and diseases of the biliary tract, on peptic ulcers, and on the endocrine aspects of the treatment of cancer. Illingworth was a prolific writer of surgical papers and textbooks. His monograph on *Peptic ulcer* (1957) described the pain of this condition with the accuracy of one who had himself suffered from this malady, while his *Short textbook of surgery* (1938) and his *Textbook of surgical treatment* (1942) went to many editions and became standard works. He also wrote two biographies - of William Hunter (1967) and, under the title *University Statesman* (1971), of Hector Hetherington. Illingworth married, in 1928, Eleanor Bennett, who died in 1971. They had four sons. He died at the age of 91 on 23 February 1991.