COLFE'S SCHOOL

MEMORIES OF COLFE'S

THE WAR AND EVACUATION

WRITTEN BY COLFEIANS

Revised edition 2006 COLIN H TAYLOR (1939-1947) Only once do I remember going to the 'School on the Hill' and that was some years after my school days. I started at Colfe's in September 1939 when I joined a friend at his 'billet' in Southwood Avenue, only a few yards from 'Skinners'. He stayed for about a year. I remained until moving with Colfe's to Frome in 1944. I was one of the lucky ones. The Burtons with whom I was billeted treated me like the son they never had - probably better. H e was a Director of Strange Electrical on Mount Pleasant and a great gardener (I've rewired several houses over the years and I still grow my own fruit & veg). She had been Head Housekeeper at the Metropole Hotel in Brighton and was a wonderful cook. Moreover she had a brother who owned the family pub on Dartmoor: every few weeks throughout the war a pair of rabbits (or the like) would arrive by post (within 24 hours of posting), their back legs tied together and a label round a neck. At a time of rationing and shortage a commentary on the honesty of the times. What with the home-grown fruit and vegetables we really lived well!

In the September and October of 1939 we did no actual schooling. We met each morning on the Common, near Wellington Rocks, and played games until lunchtime: that was it for the day! In later days we got down to work but how we covered the syllabus I do not know because we spent so much time going between the classrooms spread around the town. The YMCA alongside the Green Line bus station, in the tower of the church hall at St Johns, along Mount Ephrain and of course at Skinners. We walked miles each week - and kept the Maidstone and District buses well filled. Of the staff, so many memories. Of G.W. Morris, a fast moving diminutive figure in a black gown, the tall, thing apparition of 'Beaky Southern', the equally tall but clearly elderly 'Bunny' Bennett, of 'Ding monkey' 'Sniffy' Chandler etc. My own view is that they did a wonderful job in the circumstances. Contrary to the view of some, I shall always be grateful to Major 'Sanky' Meredith for cultivating in me a love of maps and geography in general such that I seemed as a navigator in the RAF for 20 years. Also Mr Stockbridge, who taught woodwork in the depths of the Skinners building almost without wood. Nevertheless he taught me some of the long remembered skills which I still try to apply 60 years later on the Severn Valley Railway.

As to memories of Frome, of re-wiring and decorating our wreck of a classroom in the old hutted school we shared with Coopers. Of the scrumpy cider so easily available in the town - if you new where. Of V.E. night when we went out on the town - and no one cared when my companion (a local, not from Colfe's I hasten to add) poured beer into a 'borrowed' policeman's helmet. We sat our 'School Certificate' just a few weeks later before returning to London and a new term at Beacon Road. I suppose you could say I had a good war!!

GILLIAN MORLEY (1941-1942) When the school was first evacuated to Tunbridge Wells it was only possible to have part-time education. Skinners used the school building in the morning and Colfe's in the afternoon. Then St John's let them use the church rooms so that the senior boys could have classes in the morning. Later the Physics master at Skinners was called up for the forces and Mr Chanter taught in both schools. The class I attended with him was composed of boys from both schools. My father (Ding Morley) always walked to school but Mr Morris had a bicycle. It was when he was cycling home that he had his accident. A truck load of soldiers had pulled up at the roadside and as he was passing, the men jumped out without looking and knocked him off his bicycle. He was out of school for some time and, as deputy head, my father had to supervise the re-evacuation of the school to Frome, Somerset.

DENIS GREENSMITH (1931-1937) In those days, for an evening activity/occasion to which parents were invited, the 'prefects' (including me) were required to wear full evening suits, so my dear mum shook the money box and bought me my first evening suit from the Fifty Shilling Tailors in Lewisham High Street.

What happened to Tarka the'Otter, who lived in a glass case in the entrance hall? And Mr Birnberg, a delightful maths teacher, who came to work on a rusty old bike because all his cash went in helping Jews out of Germany - (and beat the best 4 chess players at one time together with himself blindfolded)? - makes me feel very humble.

1 ROY DURHAM (1940-1945)

I have little recollection of Colfe's at Lewisham except for walking past the staff entrance on Sunday afternoons until the September 1940 day of registration. Air raids were of course common as it was the time of the Battle of Britain, the sight of our fighters attacking a formation of enemy aircraft, seen from Morden Hill, is absolutely unforgettable.

Within what seems to have been a few hectic days, I found myself whisked off to Tunbridge Wells and starting again this time a t Skinners. I was taken into the Form by Colin Taylor, the form captain of 3a. The green in front of the main building provided underground shelters, in which I remember English and astronomy (Messrs Southern and Uttley) being taught. In the poor light, the Earth was represented very effectively by a tennis ball and the sun by what I would now judge to be a 20 watt bulb. We used the YMCA for some lessons and table tennis rooms in the Red Triangle building for recreation. Both places were just off the Fiveways, in the centre of town. Our air raid shelter was at the top of the road on the edge of the common and was a sandstone cave with presumably doors. Driving past may years later, it seemed to have become, or reverted to being a municipal builders store. Sic transit... Byng Hall, next to the school was also used. I recall Maths, Mechanics, English and Latin there and I believe French. These arrangements allowed us to have morning lessons, while Skinners was otherwise occupied.

The only association with the Skinners pupils that I can remember was a Wednesday nigby match at their fields on the Southborough Road. We had matches on Saturday afternoons which now appears an obvious distribution of facilities. Having since worked in Supplies Administration in B.E.A. and B.O.A.C. and B.A., I can now appreciate the effort that must have gone into this. I think all we were aware of at the time, were changes in venue and timetables.

School life was a steadying influence in those troubled times. There was security in the routine and discipline and sense of progression, plus the support of being one of a group with common experience. Assembly was held in the hall the beginning of the afternoon with a formal prayer by Headmaster Morris followed by a hymn, which we had been cautioned to sing rather than shout, followed in turn by notes, mostly administrative, but too often a bit sombre. Perhaps a master killed in action or a returnee to London caught in an air raid. Eventually the atmosphere changed and there was new expectation. Even Mr Southern didn't object when we jumped up to see a flight of Spitfires go past and on T. Wells Common, ATS girls were preparing camouflage nets down near the Pantiles for the impending invasion of Europe.

Then the Vis began to appear, reintroducing a serious not. My parents, as a result of bombing, had already been moved to Uxbridge in 1941. It was ironic that the one VI fell next door and blew the top off the house. It seems miraculous, as always, that they and the rest of the family escaped with only cuts and bruises.

Then the expedition to Frome began. Again, school continued as usual, though we lunched in school for the first time with a master at the table which helped us understand them more as people . Also, we understood that the masters thought about more than their subjects. One day whilst walking in with Mr Morley, he introduced us casually to Wegener's theory of continental drift, which was still open to debate. The one thing we were not used to was the sight of girls on the premises. As the hockey pitches were alongside the large windows, it could be difficult to concentrate. The surreptitious glance being preceded by an earnestly thoughtful expression. Some of us had several billets during our brief time in Frome. About twenty had moved to the Hostel, a temporary building but with a brick built mortuary, formerly for the old men of the parish. We had become quite a community, but with the end of our occupation in sight, the dining room gained extra beds and residents. Fortunately this did not last and the great dispersal took place. That was the end of my time with Colfc's. Because of the distance, it was too difficult to maintain contact on a regular basis, which is why I am so pleased to be able to take advantage of your initiative. We did have one last celebration, with the rest of the country, on VE day. Finally, I must say how much J have always appreciated the education that Colfe's gave. The range of subjects and the general quality of teaching seemed to me to be admirable. BRIAN SANDERS (1939-1943) We shared the school with Skinners; they used the buildings in the morning and Colfe's in the afternoon. We had morning lessons at Byng Hall (next to Skinners) and in the town at the YMCA and another address, both just off Five Ways. We also played games in the School Field at St John's in the mornings. During the Battle of Britain we made occasional visits to the air raid shelter in the front of the school. Masters I remember particularly were:

'Ding' Morley, Deputy Head. His nickname derived from Morley's Piano Shop in Lewisham. He is featured with Bunny Bennett in 'Dandelion Days' by Henry Williamson, which as I'm sure you know, is about Colfe's (Colham). In the book Ding was called 'Mr Worley' and Bunny 'Mr Kenneth'. It was am impersonation I gave of Ding with his nasal, 'Now they you boys' and his splayed feet which amused Henry Williamson when I first visited him in North Devon in 1950. This began a friendship which lasted until H.W.'S Death.

Beaky Southern, English. I much enjoyed his lessons both - Grammar and Literature. We read Shakespeare's Henry IV Pt One and I desperately wanted to read a main part (shades of my future) but all I got was the Sheriff (about 3 lines). For Matriculation we studied the Merchant of Venice. We were given an analysis of practically every line of the play - hardly a word about the characters and their motivation! Until a few months ago I had my copy: it was covered with my notes given by Beaky. Later, when I was acting with Donald Wolfit I remember him saying to me, 'They shouldn't teach Shakespeare in the Schools, Brian. They should bring the class to see a production and then discuss what they have seen - characters, acting, settings and so forth.' How right he was.

J. Birnberg, Maths. Known as Johnny Brin. I liked him although I was hopeless at Maths. He occasionally called me 'Bunny' and sent me to the blackboard to do Quadratic Equations. He knew I was hopeless but somehow there was nothing cruel about his action. While I was at the board he would empty my satchel on the desk and rifle through the contents. Occasionally he would bring a large cauliflower in his kitbag and throw pieces to various pupils while the lesson was in progress. He rode an ancient bicycle to school, chatting to himself while he pedalled.

'J.B.'s bicycle is all tied up with string, A and a bell that doesn't ring' Is all 1 can remember of a schoolboy ditty. One summer he came dressed in shorts and a notice went on the board from the Headmaster, G.AV.Morris, to say that nobody was to wear shorts to school without permission. J.B., took no notice. A couple of years ago I sent a letter to Benedict Birnberg, his son and a well-known solicitor. He replied saying I had told him things about his father that were quite new both to him and to his brother.

Bill Bailey, German. A lively teacher with a sense of fun. He used the BBC Radio ITMA character 'Funf to enliven his lessons. Years later I met him at the Tring Shakespeare Festival organised by Dorian Williams, the show jumping commentator, where I played from 1960 to 1964. He was, I then discovered, most interested in Shakespeare and Play Production. I recognised him but, of course, I had changed from a 15 yer old to aged 32. We got on extremely well.

Clements, French. Mad as a hatter. I didn't find French easy and he made things worse with his 'System Clementine.'

'Dicky' Richardson, Biology. Perhaps the master most 'in touch' with boys. He was probably the youngest master on the staff. One felt one could ask him anything and it would be treated seriously. During my time only one school play was produced. 'Beaky' presented 'Youth at the helm'. 1 remember the main part was taken by a sixth former, John Prudhoe. Years later, in the 70's when I was adjudicating my first Tunbridge Wells One Act Festival at the Assembly Hall a play was presented which had been translated and adapted, and the set designed by a John Prudhoe. At the end of the evening I went to the dressing room and asked him if he'd been in a play called 'Youth at the Helm'. He looked utterly astonished and said he had. He was lecturing at Manchester University but still had a home in Tun. Wells. A few years later and just before I adjudicated again at the Wells I heard that he had died and I made a point of mentioning his name in my summary at the end of the Festival. Staying with the theatre there were several live shows at the Opera House. I particularly remember Clarkson Rose's revue called 'Twinkle' which ran for several weeks and returned months later. Ron Smedley and I went to many of the shows; a pointer to both our futures.

KEITH ARNOLD (1941-1946) Some memories of Colfe's School are going to school all day on Saturdays. We had sole use of the facilities at Skinners on that day. It seemed unjust, as it felt that the rest of the school age youngsters were out enjoying themselves. I was billeted at 21 to The Pantiles with Bert Roberts another Coife's boy. Going up to the attic bedroom after the 'all clear' siren had gone off, we found a dust filled room and a hole in the ceiling and saw an unexploded incendiary bomb under one of the beds. Getting back downstairs rather rapidly, we had great difficulty in persuading the elderly couple, Mr & Mrs Cook that we weren't having them on. One of them went upstairs and also came bath rather smartish. An ARP Warden was fetched and turfed the bomb out of the window with a long handled shovel. Had it gone off in the house part of The Pantiles might look quite different today.

PETER ARNOLD (1937-1941) I do not have many clear memories of my school days. I do remember that, when in Tunbridge Wells, we had lessons not only at Skinners School, but also in a hut in 'Manson Road' near the local baths and theatre.

PETER BURCH (1941-1944) 'Collecting' pears from the trees in the centre of the playground at Lewisham; and along with several other boys, being given 'six of the best' for our trouble.

Also a recollection of being in the Headmasters study at Tunbridge Wells - drying my wet socks in the front of an open fire - but why I was there still escapes me!

BRIAN OGLESBY (1939-1943) Sitting in the school hall for an evacuation order to we know not where. Tunbridge Wells, a town with welcoming people. For me 'three homes', the most memorable, Molyneux Park Road, with an elderly couple who shaped my life and for whom I have the highest regard. Skinners School, Latin lessons in an air raid shelter, half day schooling. Gunfire day and night - dog fights in the sky. An unexploded bomb, yards away, night time evacuation, great excitement - what innocence. Later the drone of doodle bugs, another evacuation to a mystery destination.

Frome in Somerset, a far from welcoming people - shame! A lonely stone built billet, long since gone. Army camp accommodation - cider in a bucket. Parental rescue at last; a sad departure from a distraught Deputy Head; an unhappy end to an adventure of a lifetime.

NORMAN MILLER (1936-1940) The school on the hill (school song); the science block; the swimming pool (one mile swimming certificate). Boxing for the school; Cross Country running and other sports.

Evacuated to Warberry House (Miss Carnegie) since demolished.

Lessons from 1.00 to 3.00pm at Skinners and Rugby at Skinners sports field. ROBERT CHATFIELD (1941-1946) My most vivid memory of the war years was the re-evacuation of the school from Tunbridge WeHs to Frome. The train journey seemed to take all day - on what was probably one of the hottest days of that year. We arrived in Frome late in the afternoon and all spent the first night in a large church hall. I returned to Frome some fifty years later and attempted to trace places etc of that day and recalled that memorable day of years ago.

JAMES LARKIN (1938-1942) The Art Master, 'Mr Prater' was known as 'Spud' and very popular despite his habit of giving the whole class one stoke of the cane each if a misdemeanour occurred and the culprit didn't own up.

Years later when I was playing cricket for the Old Boys, Spud, by now somewhat portly, partnered me at the crease. After I'd taken several quick singles he puffed as he passed, 'I suppose you're trying to get your own back'.

L J 'JOHNNY' DOWNES (1936-1940) Of the pre-WWII era, I remember most the eccentricities of various masters; 'Foxy' Ford, chemistry master and first-aider, chastising miscreants with a Thomson splint or the towel roller for 'gallipottery' - mischievous use of chemicals in the lab.

Mr Birnberg rewarding my over-lengthy solution to a geometry problem with the words 'Moonshine' or 'Plum Pudding!'

Mr Crowther, Latin master, at the blackboard getting a reflection of the class in his thick lens glasses, spinning round and shying the chalk at the offending boy he had identified. Mr Clements (to whom I owe thanks for my life-long love of the French language) whose unorthodox methods of teaching were so successful: 'Je' bit the bun, but the bun bit 'me'; 'Flickir' as an invented verb. Two examples that come to mind.

Of my year of evacuation, part was spent in a house at the humbler end of Tunbridge Wells, where our hostess 'entertained' lonely soldiers while her husband was away in the Force!

ERIC DUFF (1942-1947) Classes held in a variety of establishments; YMCA, Byng Hall, King Charles' School in addition to Skinners.

Having to attend school on Saturdays until 5p.m. and then (in my case at least) dashing off to catch a Green line bus for a very short 'weekend' at home. Having allotments to help with the 'dig for victory' effort. Watching Spitfires chase 'doodle buts' (Vis).

Various forms of corporal punishment:- The application of Bunsen burner tubing to ones backside by the Physics master; A similar application with the end of a climbing rope in the gymnasium by the PE master; Raps over the knuckles with the edge of a 12 inch Sooden ruler by the Latin master (we tried to evade this by buying 6 inch rulers, but these were soon banned!)

Verses and rhymes from the French master as aide-memoirs which at least one other fellow pupil and I remember to this day (there was something to be said for unorthodox teaching methods!)

In Maths lessons we all tried to avoid sitting at a desk which had an empty one behind it since the Maths aster had a habit of sitting in such a desk, directing one of the boys to solve a problem on the blackboard and admonishing the boy in front of him with a sharp slap if the wrong answer were given! As we progressed in the school, his admonishments changed to sarcasm, at which he was very proficient. At times our homework would be described as 'rubbish' or 'bilge' or he would give it as his opinion that 'indeed the sweat must have poured from your brow producing this trash!'

Nevertheless, he was a brilliant mathematician and I like to think that most of us realised that we had been fortunate in having such a teacher.

RON BROMLEY (194M947) When I joined Colfe's in 1941 we attended school 6 days a week, and the school day ended at 5p.m. Many of us had to travel back to our billets by bus; mine was an 81 to Rusthall. This meant that we clashed with the people going home from work some of whom would neither understand nor believe that we weren't just taking our time going home after school. We often heard the comment 'Why don't you kids go home straight after school and not crowd on to the workers buses?'. We were going straight 'home' but I don't think many believed us.

The great British public wasn't so queue conscious at that time and when a bus arrived there was a mad rush to get on it. It wasn't unknown for agile young schoolboys to leap on to the bus platform before ft even got to the stop where everyone else was waiting and thereby get on first. Could that practice have perhaps caused some of the bad feeling form our fellow passengers? On the topic of buses I recollect that Colfe's pupils would often cheer as the Green Line buses leaving Tunbridge Wells and heading for London passed them on the road up to Skinners School. The reason was that those buses eventually passed through Catford and Lewisham, home to many of us. I wonder if the bus crews ever noticed, and if so wondered about this enthusiastic juvenile behaviour.

Frome was quite different. Six of us, all in the Upper Vth, were billeted in Buckland Denham, a small village about 4 miles out of the town. Buses to school were non-existent and we cycled this journey each day. In 1944 it wasn't easy to get spare parts for bikes and one of us suffered a broken chain. We pushed and pulled him to school for weeks until he finally got a replacement. Real comradeship! This practice occasionally ended in a pile up if somebody wobbled too much. Fortunately there wasn't much other traffic on the roads in those days.

If we had to make this journey after dark we would have one of us at the front with a headlight and one at the back with a rear light. Batteries were also hard to get. This was okay, as long as we didn't encounter the local bobby when speed was called for. However these days many cyclists seem to show no lights at all after dark, so perhaps nothing changes.

DEREK PARSONS (1941-1945) Cycling to BrockJey Grammar School after the destruction of both junior and senior school buildings by VI's has to be a major memory of being a Colfes pupil during the war. Being evacuated previously and being billeted in a village blacksmiths is another major memory. All in all good memories though, of a school keeping up standards in spite of the war.

PETER HENDRY (1937-1946) Joined Colfe's at age 9. Impressed by size of senior boys - seemed older than my parents! - and by extent of buildings and numerous activities, e.g. Games, 'junior plays' etc - small part in play early 3939 -. 1939 evacuation. Strongest memories are of 'waiting dogs' in late August '39 - attending school each morning with rucksack, gas-mask and packed lunch, pending announcement by government. The Friday 1/9/39 the move by railway to 'secret destination' which turned out to be Tunbridge Wells. Attempted de-lousing by the good women of T.W., who seemed disappointed to find not even a flea' much better at T.W. Girls G.S., where nice girls handed out food, milk and chocolate. Skill and dedication with which staff took on new roles of pastoral care, activities, entertainments; growing contacts between staff and pupils. 1940 hop-picking organized by school in September at Brenchley, ring-side view of Battle of Britain. Lessons in underground shelters at Skinners, various staff making running commentaries on aerial activity from shelter entrances.

1939-44 lessons at Skinners p.m. Lessons a.m at various sites around T.W. Wide range of subjects (conscientiously taught) that Colfes was able to offer to age 16, even in wartime. Extraordinary amount of physical violence to pupils from staff- unthinkable today.

1944 move to Frome. New and interesting countryside, explorable by bicycle on empty roads. Playing cricket (badly) for school agains, eg. Mells Village on cricket ground in the Mells estate; or against local police (!) on county ground at Frome.

1945-6 return to Hither Green - dark, gloomy, cramped, but the school continuing to function despite huge difficulties of accommodation, supplies, noise etc. Full marks to all staff for keeping the show on the road. Left July 1946.

Did not revisit school between about 1950 and 1976 when the school of which I was headmaster, and Colfe's, began to exchange ideas about coming independence. Very impressed, in 1976, by the 'feel' of Colfe's as an active, purposeful organisation, so similar in many ways to the Colfe's of 1939 - the 1976 visit gave me a sort of 'time-warp' jolt!

1976-present: occasional contact via Trinity Group and recently, the Development Office.

MICHAEL JOBLING (1942 - 1950)

Tunbridge Wells Apart from the Sports Field, on the edge of Southborough, there were at least three other locations used - Byng Hall, close to Skinners, a room in town (singing) and a school the other side of town, King Charles the Martyr. We had triple Latin there Saturday morning. There were 13 free periods in the timetable, mainly used for walking from place to place. At this stage of the war we could only go home to London for the holidays if a parent had written to the school with a request. In the Lower Forth our Form Room was in the main building, and was one of those strengthened against building collapse with steel columns and joists. This meant that we stayed put in an air raid.

Home Guard On the Common with classmates I came upon a hollow with a group of Home Guard wrestling with a field gun, so we stopped to watch and listen to the language. We were sported by the Corporal Mr. S.A. Stockbridge (Woodwork Master) and "advised to go elsewhere". We did, of course.

The Flying Bomb infestation Woken one night by the sound of 'unsilenced' motorbikes going fast overhead. On walking to school noticed the occasional strange aircraft going northwest, very fast. We soon had extra-curricular instruction about them. 1. If the noise was unchanged, carry on. (The bomb was going somewhere else). 2. If the noise went up in pitch, or stopped, take cover, (the bomb was diving, or was now gliding down). 3. When lying on the ground, keep the body slightly off using knees and elbows to avoid shock coming up from the ground. 1 doubt this is in the curriculum now. Soon after this the school went to Frome, taking with us a few Skinners boys.

Frome The school was billeted on a school on the north side of town, The buildings were modern and new. The adjacent sports field was sometimes used as a drill ground by the Americans. Next door was a WW1 army camp, wooden buildings, somewhat dilapidated. This site was already occupied by another London school. We fitted into the available spaces on both sites. Some of the classrooms had old holes in the roof, with matching holes in the wooden floor. One such hole was just inside a door, needing a 7 small jump to cross. The end classroom had neither glass or door and was only used in the summer. I was billeted at Buckland Dinham (then spelt Denham). This was a small, very rural village, with a twice-daily procession of cows along the street from the farm on the crossroads at the top of the village. In one of the houses lived a retired schoolmaster and his wife, if they had electricity they did not use it, having a pressure lamp on the table, which gave a lot of golden light. There were three others in my class in the village, we cycled to school. My hosts were very kind, I did two "jobs" for them, I took the milk can up to the farm for fresh milk, and on Saturday I took the lead-acid radio battery down the road for charging, bringing back the alternate.

PHILIP MANNING (1937-1943) I remember digging for victory at a plot to the north of the town where we grew vegetables. Lessons were held in various halls in TW. I remember the art master from whom you could buy 'WOP' tickets, which saved you from getting a beating, although I do not remember anyone getting caned, for it was the policy of the Headmaster not to condone corporal punishment. I went hop-picking with the School at Benenden, which was hard labour for little money and now I appreciate what the poor had to put up with.

GORDON BLYTH (1933-1938) We had passed through the death of King George V, the short reign of Edward VI11 and rejoiced at the Coronation of George VI. Behind all this Germany had reoccupied the Saar with scarcely a whimper from anyone; taken over Austria with equal ease and was now threatening Czechoslovakia. Italy had swallowed Abysinnia and had Albania in her sights. A little nearer home, the Civil War in Spain still dragged on. There was a non-intervention policy promoted I think by the League of Nations, which seemed to be generally ignored by all. Germany and Italy backed General Franco, the eventual winner; the Soviet Union backed the Spanish Government. This conflict in particular was a rehearsal for the War of 1939-45. Ships attempting to run supplies to the Government side via the ports of Valencia and Barcelona were subject to bombing by Franco's German air force. I am reminded of it now as I remember a boy in my form called Stonehouse whose father was a master mariner and Captain of such a ship. He naturally worried about his father but I fear we simply didn't understand the dangers of bombing and were not very sympathetic.

Colfe's had a strong debating society and at this time a motion was debated 'That Communism was the only power that could save the World'. It was fiercely debated, arguing the merits of Russian interference on the Government side in Spain against the Franco supporters, but rather deflated by the Master supervising, Mr Cloake. He summed up by saying that he was yet to learn from what the world needed saving and how Communism intended to do it!

The School was still the 'School on the Hill', but Lewisham was so different. Then the road from Ladywell and Catford joined that from Eltham and Lee at the Clock Tower, running northwards for 400 yards to the Gaumont cinema where it divided; the left-hand to New Cross and straight on to School and Greenwich. Both the Quaggy and Ravensbourne rivers could still be seen in places. Six tram routes passed through Lewisham and Cheeseman's store dominated the area near the Clock Tower.

ROBERT STONEHOUSE (1936-1940) As it was 67 years ago and I am now 81 memories of that time are dimming. I recall being on holiday at Southsea and hearing news on the wireless announcing school evacuations on the following day. There ensued a hurried departure on my bicycle arriving back in London that night and reporting with my brother (starting at Colfe's that term) fully labelled and loaded on a train which then departed on what appeared to be a tour of south-east England leading to all sort of speculation as to our destination which finally turned out to be Tunbridge Wells. My other clear memory is turning out whilst Skinners had the use of the school to dig up the rugby field - three spits deep with the turfs upside down at the bottom. This seemed to go on for ages. However I also remember all sorts of mock battles on the common until lessons were eventually arranged. 1 also remember cycling up to London at weekends to

8 see my mother who was on her own in Catford as my sister was evacuated to Harrogate with the Air Ministry and my father - a Captain in the Merchant Navy - was away at sea. In June/ July our house was demolished 75% by a landmine so mother took my brother and I to Copley a tiny village in Durham at the foot of the moors. Two days after our arrival a German bomber who must have been lost dropped a stick of bombs nearby killing a cow. The villagers were very upset and suggested that if Hitler was so keen to get us we better return to London. I continued school at King James Grammar School in Bishop Auckland, a daily bus journey of 24 miles and then joined the Merchant Navy as a Deck Officer Cadet and sailed away on my first trip which took me twice around the world and lasted two and a half years. A couple of months before I left my father arrived in Copley on survivors' leave as his ship had been torpedoed so we had some time together which turned out to be our last as in 1942 he was torpedoed again but this time the ship went down with all hands. I swallowed the anchor and left the Navy in 1949 and was employed at a Lloyd's Insurance brokers until 1956 when I emigrated to Northern Rhodesia with my wife and son. I now reside in Cape Town after 7 years in London, 17 years in Northern Rhodesia/ Zambia, 9 years in Lesotho and 24 years in South Africa.

NORMAN POPE (1943-1948) Aged 7 I was evacuated on September 1st 1939 to Deal along with my brother Reg whose 14th birthday was that very same day. Also with us was my sister Maisie who was five years my senior. Due to the extremely precarious position of Deal on the Kent coast, six months later, in the spring of 1940, Maisie and I were relocated to Rhiwderin, a small village near Newport in Monmouthshire, as it was then called. Reg left school, stayed in Deal and started work as a pit boy in nearby Betteshanger Colliery.

By 1943 I had passed my scholarship and was offered a place at Colfe's Grammar School. Leaving my sister Maisie behind in Wales and for the first time in my education I moved back to Eltham. I then lived there for about two months before Mr Clements, who was to be my Form Master and French teacher, called for me, took me to his home overnight and the next morning escorted me to Tunbridge Wells. Needless to say, I was not very happy having to leave home again but at least I would be a lot closer this time.

In TW I was billeted along with five other Colfe's boys in the home of Mr and Mrs Buckland at 153 Upper Grosvenor Road, just a short walk form Skinners School where Colfe's were sharing classrooms and also huts in the playground. I cannot remember the names of the other boys bar one - Brian Bodiam who was the same age as me and in my class whereas the other lads were one or two years older. As I recall then Brian and I shared a bedroom and on Fridays a bath as well - with a whole five inches of water in it. Those were the days when you had a bath once a week, whether or not you needed it or wanted it. Whatever happened to my five house mates I wonder? I recall that we were all well looked after by the Bucklands and their daughter who must have been in her mid twenties.

I also recall that we were expected to do our own share of the chores to help keep the household running smoothly. However it was a happy house. I was with Colfe's for just one year in Tunbridge Wells during which time I recall learning to swim in the town pool and on occasion having to walk the mile or so from Skinners School to a hall in the Pantiles for some lessons as space at Skinners' School was so limited. On returning with my classmates from one such trip in the early summer of 1994 whilst walking through the town centre the air raid siren sounded and a doodlebug flew over with its unforgettable droning engine noise and it was being fired on by anti-aircraft guns which at the time surrounded the town. Shrapnel fell in the streets and we had no where to take shelter except in shop doorways. I remember that one boy found to his cost that shrapnel was red hot when it came down as he went to pick it up. Thankfully that doodlebug cleared the town and 1 have no idea where it eventually exploded.

The arrival of the flying bombs hastened Colfe's departure from Tunbridge Wells and we were moved to Frome in Somerset for the final year of the war. Very shortly after our arrival in Frome it was announced in assembly one morning that Mr Buckland who had always looked very frail and ill had sadly passed away. Mrs Buckland however was a big buxom woman with a heart of gold. To my shame and regret I never kept in contact with her or her family after the war. 1 left Colfe's in the spring of 1948 and immediately started work in central London and two years later I was inducted into the Royal Army Medical Corps to do my statuary two years National Service. How times have changed.

PHILIP BROWN (1935-1943) September 15th 1940 was a very significant date in the "Battle of Britain" when the Germans Luftwaffe incurred its heaviest losses hi one day against the RAF. It came about a week after the Germans landed the night time raids on London. The glow of the fires was visible from TW for about two weeks at the end of August/ beginning of September.

Some 5th and 6th formers joined in the annual hop picking season, an event which traditionally provided East Enders with a working holiday. This involved a good cycle ride to Sandhurst and a "grand stand" view of some of the aerial fighting. Then it was back to normal lessons with many hours spent in air raid shelters. My best wishes to any survivors.

PETER RUDDOCK (1942-1947) I joined Colfe's in 1943, which was bombed in 1944. I was then transferred to the emergency school in Brockley where again a V2 bombed the school causing it to close and once again the school was transferred to Hither Green till I left in 1947. I then went to work at Harrdds Knightsbridge until being called up for National service and joined the Royal Army Ordnance Corps. I still possess a panoramic photo of the school and pupils in those days taken in 1947.

KEITH LOCK (1942-1949) I joined the School at Granville Park in September 1942 and well remember the old school hall with classrooms off it. 1 started in class 1A and my classmates some of whom were Colfeians included John Aldridge, now retired from the insurance business and living I believe on the Sussex coast; Paul Branson who became an internationally known artist; George Desforges and Frank Shaw, both well known in Colfeian sporting circles; Stan Boatman who lives in retirement in Reading; Albert Peterken and last but not least Brian Abel who lives in Bath.

My first two years in the school were spent in that building and we were a mixed lot from schools all over London and with a mixed staff led by Basher Rees and including both men and women. I have two outstanding memories of those years apart from the assembly every morning. First, the day that two German Fokker Wulf fighters flew over the playground at lunch time before bombing a junior school at Hither Green and the second when the Head Boy came into our classroom in 2A to tell us that the invasion of Normandy had started.

School dinners were served at a Rest Centre on Belmont Hill and I believe were not included in one's rations. If we took sandwiches then you can bet Mum went without to provide some of the contents. That summer in 1944 both the upper and lower buildings were bombed, fortunately at night and the School broke up early. We returned in September to Brockley County on Hilly Fields. That meant long walks up Tressillian Road and swimming lessons at Ladywell Baths. I also remember a wrecked aircraft in the school grounds which I believe was a fleet air arm Fairey Swordfish.

1945 saw us join the other Colfeians who had returned from Frome all accommodated in the ground floor of Beacon Road School at Hither Green with forms 3 and lower four at Ennersdale Road, It was here that we joined up with the regular Colfe's staff of whom I have clearer memories. Mr Morris was the Head and he was supported by Messrs Morley, Bailey, Birnberg, Calland, Clements, Dacombe, Davies, East, Goldsmith, Rees, Rablah, Southern, Tennant, Thomas and others. I realise now that many of them were near the end of their careers and before long there were a number of changes and one of the first to retire was Mr Morris followed by the arrival of Mr Beardwood. He came as a 35 year old Mathematics teacher form Addey & Stanhope School so it must have been a good promotion for him.

10 It must have been very difficult to run a school like Colfe's in the war years and to return to bombed buildings and unsuitable accommodation. I well remember having lessons at Beacon Road to the accompaniment of blast walls being demolished because until the previous year the school had been used as an auxiliary fire station. We also had to go to Brockley County to use their science labs. Fortunately the school sports ground was useable although the pavilion had been bomb damaged and we made good use of it straight away. It obviously took time to settle down as a school and time to restore the school's reputation on the rugby field, despite the best efforts of Mr Thomas.

Cricket I think re-established itself more quickly. Some of the disciplinary methods used by the staff would not be allowed today so I had better not go into them but I am sure many OC's will remember Mr Thomas' exhortation to ' turn your face to Mecca Boy' Many will also remember helping to push 'Mabel', his 1927 Austin 7.

Despite various difficulties we sat our School certificate and higher schools cert exams and I enjoyed myself. I remember the 6th Modem at Beacon Road was a select band of about 12 including Lee, the School Captain; Bacon; Hext; Hailsworth; Gomme; Walpole and Troubridge. Life at school in the war was different. There was a lot of bombing and most of us had narrow escapes and from time to time Basher Rees had to announce that someone had been killed the previous night. We also worked under a lot of difficulty with shortage of books etc but probably did not realise it at the time. We cycled or came by bus but there were no trips although things resumed quite quickly and I made my first school exchange to France in 1948 to a family with whom I am still in touch.

The School choir and Drama productions were also well under way by 1946/7.

JOHN MACHELL (1943-1949) I started at Colfe's in 1943 at the Lewisham Hill site, in the more modern part of the School at the upper end of the site, though I think the school also occupied the lower buildings. The School in London was then known as the SELESS for boys and comprised the boys who had not been evacuated from SE London Grammar Schools, each in their own uniforms, including St Dunstans, Brockley County, Askes, Addey & Stanhope, etc. The Headmaster was Basher Rees, the deputy Head at Colfe's. He was a formidable man who entered the hall from his office at the rear of the hall for each morning assembly. Anyone caught talking as he entered he caned after assembly, so the hall remained generally silent until his grand entry. I also remember Dago Davies, the geography master who clumped round the back of the head anyone who had not learned the chapter appointed for the previous nights homework, though I might not have encountered him till reunification of the school at the end of the war. I bet modern teachers would enjoy the luxury of imposing discipline like basher and dago.

On the Lewisham Hill site I remember our classroom was rather dark because there were bomb blast walls built in brick a short distance away from the window in the playground outside with an opening at the base say 2 feet square and with a short return wall at each end of the blast wall abutting the external wall of the School. Presumably each classroom had the same blast protection. I recall one geography lesson known to the class as lavatory lesson taken by a master who had poor class control. Boys were constantly asking to be excused and exiting through the open windows at the hole in the blast wall and across the playground to the lavatories. One night I think towards the end of our first year German bombers allegedly aiming for Lewisham junction railway station hit and destroyed the upper and lower buildings of the School and it did not reopen as a school on that site until the temporary buildings were erected. It was of course the site of Abraham Colfe's first school. We then moved to Brockley County School buildings on Hilly Fields where we stayed form perhaps another year. One incident I remember there was that an old first world war biplane which stood in the corner of the playground was set on fire and destroyed. There must have been vandals even then.

After Brockley we were moved to Aske's Boys at the top of Jerningham Road in New Cross at the time of the doodlebugs. One morning my elder brother Roger and I on the way to School heard a doodle bug engine cut out and took shelter behind a pillar box in Jerningham Road. The doodlebug landed two or three streets to the north. We carried on to the School and visited the crash site to see the damage after school. 11 Whilst at the School we seemed to spend most of our time sitting on the floor under our desks during the regular air raids warnings. After that the evacuated school was reunited as Colfe's Grammar School without its buildings. The lower school was housed in Ennersdale road and the upper School at Beacon Road on the ground floor at Hither Green. There I was placed in the upper fourth remove and proceeded up the school until I left in 1949 to train as a quantity surveyor.

CECIL FLOREY (1938-1945) I turned 11 in 193 8 and for my first year at Colfe's was 6 months below the average age for Form 3A. I was in at the deep end with secondary education and floundered all year, unable to cope with all the new subjects.

Our sadistic form master, Clements was no help as our teacher of French. From the very first day we were required to only speak in French. We were given French names, usually ridiculous: as Florey I became 'Monsieur Choufleur', Mister Cauliflower. We were pilloried verbally for any errors in spoken translation from English to French. When such errors occurred, Clements led the whole form in chanting 'corrigez la faute'. He was notorious for his verbal torture and was loathed by all the students. Imagine our horror in 3 A when at the end of our first year of French in July 1939, a burly 6th form boy came into the room while Clements was in full flight, ostensibly to farewell his old French teacher. Instead of shaking hands, the seventeen year old attacked Clements with his fists, pummelling him thoroughly before turning and walking from the room. We were terrified but relieved when Clements told us to get on quietly with our work while he went to see the Headmaster.

Tony Lord, who was four years younger, writes about Clements 'He had the potential to be a better teacher than my first one but he misused lessons spending a very long time telling us how successful he had been, how far he had walked at the weekend, showing us his leg muscles and telling feeble jokes. He created myths about himself, hoping to be liked, admired and feared too. He had broken French down into a series of hoops that we were taught to jump through in order to pass exams. I can still recite some of his keys for coping with - say - the subjunctive, but they are a hindrance rather than a help when I am discussing something with French friends. One of his irritating ways was to pick boys' pockets when they were working and display what he had found to everyone, even among 6th formers. One April 1st I let a sheet of paper hang temptingly out of my pocket. He fell for it and read on my cut- out fish 'Poisson d'AvriP. He wasn't pleased, but he didn't try it again with our group.'

STANLEY CORNFORD 1941-1947 20 Memories: G W Morris telling my mother, sympathetically, during my preliminary interview in a time of clothing rationing and stepfather away in the army that the suit he was wearing was ten years old.

The Head wiping his face with his hand whenever he wanted to make a point. His official disapproval of those going home to London for the weekend - on the 5.30 p.m. Green Line 704 coach on Saturday: 'Those who wish to be foul, foul they shall be.'

Ding Morley, chemistry master and Deputy Head, during his welcome speech on day one at TW: 'Never forget you carry the name of the school on your back'. This to boys who had seen the name of the school only in gold letters a foot high on the outside of the school when attending for interview. And also: 'The atmosphere is made up of 78% nitrogen, 21% oxygen and trace gases such as argon, neon, krypton, xenon and so on.'

Clem, the French master for his mnemonic RVZ (said with a sawing motion of the hand over someone's head). Cheries at exam time, on sale at 4d for a half pound en route to school near St John's church, and being allowed to take them in to exams.

12 Gardening on Tuesday mornings on the edge of Skinners' playing field at Powdermill Lane near to a prisoner-of-war camp for Italians.

Weedy Boyden, the Latin master getting into the water at the open air swimming pool near Grosvenor Road wearing his glasses, swimming one width without getting them wet and getting out again.

Reg Radish having the bomb disposal squad call at his home during the holidays because his parents did not understand that the white hand grenade he had was one used by the home guard for training purposes in a park in TW and did not contain explosives as we all knew. The Head telling the whole school off about this.

In the First World War tin huts at Frome, J Bimberg baking potatoes for us in the stove in the class room. The roof of the same hut leaking when it rained which it did a lot.

In Frome on the eve of the first exam for School Certificate, our group decided collectively that we'd revised enough for English lit and we should go to the pictures. We sat together in a row. The first advertisement was for mazawatee tea. For some reason it included a recitation of Gray's Elegy, one of our set poems. We joined in the chant en masse.

Near Frome, retrieving 0.5 inch cartridges from a crashed Albemarle aircraft and then in the hostel using a hack-saw to extract the cordite from them.

Around VE Day joining in a mock battle with boys on long heaps of coal in the grounds of the hostel, firing rockets at one another.

In a stream at Vallis, near Frome finding that firework bangers go off under water and using them to catch fish.

In the 6th form going to a conference at the Royal Empire Society in which Southern Rhodesia was held up a s a model for successful evolution from colony to self-governing dominion. Also going to French plays at the Institut Francais in South Kensington.

In the 1960's on a camping holiday in Brittany being astonished to find that I could still remember the French for methylated spirits. Good old Clem.

NEIL SPRINKS (1939-1947) I remember organised walks on TW common, singing songs such as ' It's a long way to Tipperary' and 'We'll hang out the washing on the Siegfried line'.

At Frome in 1944 I recall the trauma of Brian Oglesby and me being force-billeted on a family unwilling to take us. Later Brian returned to Leicester and after one term 1 was found a happy billet. I recall Mr Goldsmith upright on his bicycle wearing a large hearing-aid in his breast pocket which he adjusted from time to time. Another cyclist was Billy Wells who had difficulty maintaining discipline in class. He had a song made up about his cycling which went to the tune of 'John Brown's Body'. It went: 'Billy Wells' bicycle is all tied up with string It has two broken mudguards and a bell that will not ring He rode it down the High Street And he cannoned into 'Ding', But he still goes rolling on.

A more effective maths master was Mr Stephens who arrived in 1943. He also taught singing and for some convincing reason to enunciate each note as 'pom'. The hall at Skinners echoed to Mr Stephens at the organ, and boys singing 'In a Country Garden' or something similar, each note from the boys rendered as 'pom'! At Frome came Mr McLoughlin, English, reputed to be heart-struck by the charms

13 of the singer and dancer, Carmen Miranda. While Bill Bailey taught us the German words to 'Lili Marlene', perhaps as an act of reconciliation as it was at about the time of D-Day in the spring of 1945.

WILLIAM GANDER (1941-1947) I do remember GW Morris drawing his hand across his face as though to remove a mask. Also, not long after I arrived, 'Bunny' Rabbitts received a set of tan leather travel cases as a retirement present. He was the last connection with the School described in Henry Williamson's 'Dandelion Days'.

JIM MARRITT (1940-1947) 1 joined Colfe's at TW in November 1940. My early memories are of lessons mainly conducted in air raid shelters in Skinners School and at other locations around the town. I found myself in Form 3A under the guidance of A C Clements (Clementine) who was our guide and mentor through those difficult times.

The School used various church halls, YMCA's etc around the town during the mornings and then from 2 p.m. to 5 p.m. we worked at Skinners School. Sports took place on Wednesdays and Saturday mornings and this made fixtures with other schools almost impossible. I cannot remember playing against rival schools until we adopted a more civilised regime of having Saturday afternoons for sports in 1944. In that summer, I played one game for the 2nd XI and scored a few runs. That meant I spent the rest of the season playing for the 1st XI, making up the numbers and my main contribution was fielding.

1944 saw the start of the VI campaign against Southern England and in July, just as the Allied breakout from the bridgehead was gaining momentum, we were re-evacuated to Frome. We spent an enjoyable year in the West Country and I eventually spent six months in the second of the School hostels - not the one featured in a recent edition of Colfe news.

Returning to Lewisham in 1945, we were located in two LCC Schools - Hither Green and Ennersdale Road. The original buildings were in ruins and even the sports pavilion had been bomb damaged in 1940.1 played cricket for the 1st XI in 1946, but we did not win a game, and in 1947,1 became the first elected captain of the 1st XI. By our standards we had a fair season winning a number of matches - culminating in a big win over the Old Boys - albeit the OC 3rd XI.I also captained the 2nd XV at rugby and played one game for the 1st XV, losing to Eltham College 47-0.

The immediate post war period was difficult for the School. When I left in July 1947, we had a new Headmaster (H. Beardwood) and a certain amount of hope as a new-hutted school was in the planning stage. I am a committed Colfeian, but I am of the generation, which did not have a permanent base.

WILLIAM TOPLEY (1941-1948)

I attended Skinners' School from September to December 1941 and shared a billet with Colin Willis who joined at the same time at Rusthall. The common nearby with the well known landmark Toad Rock' gave lots of enjoyment. We were busy with homework, no time for homesickness and I remember the 'jotter' (a small notebook always carried) to learn constantly French vocabulary for Mr Clements.

We shared various classrooms with the Skinners' boys and played soccer at their High Brooms sports ground. We travelled daily by bus to and from school; enjoyed attractions in the Pantiles and other shops in the lunch hour.

14 The masters I remember best are: Headmaster Morris, 'Ding' Morley, Deputy Head, Clements and Goldsmith who took us for French, Dr 'Beak' Southern and Johnson (later killed in the War) who took us for English, and 'Dickie' Richardson who took us for Biology.

PETER ELLIOTT (1939-1948)

I was probably the youngest boy to be evacuated with Colfe's in September 1939. I was only 7 years old at the outbreak of War and my brother Donald Elliott, who was 5 years older than I, was attending the School. In the months leading up to the war arrangements were set up to evacuate together. No-one knew when the order would come and although it was the summer holidays the young Colfeians had to attend school each day with a side pack containing pyjamas, toothbrush etc and of course our gas masks in case the evacuation order came through during the day. So each day Donald and I attended school together.

There were no formal lessons and the boys were kept out of mischief by games and activities organised by their form masters. My brother's form master was Mr Clements, the French master. He was a stern but kindly man who treated me the same as the rest of the boys. One day I was misbehaving and he gave me a whack behind the ear. He would not get away with that now.

This went on for a couple of weeks or so until one day the evacuation order came and we were all marched down to Lewisham Station to board the steam train to TW. Everyone was excited and boys were running up and down the train corridors and having rough and tumbles in the compartments, boys leant out of the carriage windows and their faces became covered in sooty smuts from the engine smoke. I found it particularly hectic as I was only half their size, but my brother did his best to look after me.

Eventually, we arrived at TW and we were marched up to a big hall. In the middle of the hall was a trestle table with two or three people sitting behind it. The boys stood around on either side of the hall and all day long people came into the hall, spoke to the people at the table and walked along to choose a boy to take home. My brother and I were among the last to be picked as I expect few people wanted to take two boys. Eventually, an old lady came into the hall and chose Donald and me. Later I learned her name was Gertrude Edwards, a maiden lady who lived with her elder invalid sister, Edith. They were both in their eighties. Miss Edwards, as we had to call her, took us to a waiting car which took us to a house in Boyne Park. I had never been in a car before. The house seemed huge to me. Donald and I had a large bedroom, each (at home we shared a small one). There was a maid to look after us, give us meals etc and every Sunday afternoon we had tea with the Edwards in the best lounge.

I went to a local primary school where 1 was the only evacuee and Donald went to Skinners. Miss Edwards was extremely generous and bought the two of us a clockwork train set, which we set up between our bedrooms. She also bought me numerous jig-saw puzzles, toy soldiers etc. However this idyllic situation did not last as Edith became very ill, the maid left to do war work and Gertrude could not cope. Thus we were split up and sent to two different homes. 1 was sent to a council house in High Brooms. The contrast to our previous place could not have been greater for me. I was given a bed in the corner of the scullery. I was not sent to school but instead sent to play in the street all day and was lucky to get fed. My parents came to see me after a couple of weeks, saw the situation and immediately packed my bags and took me home. This was in February 1940 so I retimed to London just in time for the start of the blitz; the very reason 1 had been sent away in the first place.

For some years I corresponded with Gertrude and every year at Christmas and birthdays she would send me presents until she eventually passed away. I shall always remember her kindness. Many years later I was passing through TW with my wife and three small boys and I took them to see the 'big' house 1 had been evacuated to in Boyne Park. It was just an average detached house so much smaller than I remember but to me a small 7 year old from London it was a palace with fond memories.

15 Eventually in 1943 I joined Colfe's in London when it was part of the S E London Emergency School. It was housed in Colfe's buildings until it was bombed and we moved to Brockley County's premises. When the War ended and the rest of Colfe's returned from Frome my French teacher was Mr Clements - needless to say I did not remind him of the incident in September 1939.

LAURENCE HINTON (1935-1941)

I was sixteen at the outbreak of the last War and about to enter the 6th form. An initial disappointment was that it was to be TW and not the far West Country with visions of farms and hay barns. The first billet in Monson Road; taking turns to sleep in the single bed; democratic but not very hygienic! Cycling home to Eltham at weekends on iced roads (23 miles) and back again early Monday morning - still dark with searchlights scanning the sky over Woolwich. Grandstand view of the Battle of Britain; with bicycles at the ready. On one occasion we reached a crashed fighter before the authorities (we saw the pilot bale out).

As a souvenir I came away with an ammeter (I later became a chartered electrical engineer and worked a microwave radar at TKE, Malvern. I remember wonderful tobogganing in the moonlight on Tunbridge Wells common; first cigarettes made from bracken (awful) before graduating to Passion Cloud when I had any spare pocket money; few memories of being at the Skinners School apart from cross country running early in the morning and, with others, objecting to taking scientific German as a 6th science subject.

DAVID F ROGANS (1940-1947)

Recollections of the Colfes Diaspora from 1939 to 1947 I shied from writing this earlier as I thought that there would be many other contributions & one could fill in gaps & avoid repetitions. I have been moved by many of the recollections brought back by reading the memories of so many almost forgotten fellow exiles! The reason that I tend to think of the War as our Diaspora is that the School just didn't stay as the coherent group that assembled for the Evacuation: some opted out straight away, many bled back to their homes during the TW stay & went to the "Emergency" school or other schools, &, after the move to Frome I doubt whether the School strength was much above 200. One of the joys of returning to London was meeting again friends made earlier. Leaving in '47 I never got to experience meeting at Easter on "the Hill"!

My brother, Ken started at Colfes in '37 & I have a vivid recollection of being taken to watch a boxing contest in the Gym & seeing , a near neighbour, Robin Caldow getting a bloody nose at the age of 11! 1 think that I may have visited the old school buildings on another occasion as I recall watching 'fives'being played.

During the planning of the evacuation of schools it was decided to keep families of children together as far as possible. Hence my younger brother Norman & I joined Ken with the school on that memorable day at Lewisham Junction for the mystery tour which ended at TW West Station. There we found, as we did later in Frome that it is difficult to billet 3 together & we got temporary digs in what was a small private boarding Prep school where, 1) our issued rations were taken from us & 2) we had to dine with the servants! We were quickly moved & had very good billets after that. Finally, our father rented a house in Hopwood gardens & the family was reunited. He then spent the next 4 years of the war commuting to Greenwich during the week & the weekends in the Home Guard.

1 initially attended the Lee Church of England School which was sharing the buildings of the St John's school, just up the road from Skinner's; I wrote the dreaded Junior County Scholarship & won a place at Colfe's where I started in 1940.

Life in TW during the war was fun for a pre-teen/ early teen boy; watching the dog fights & the falling aircraft, parachutes &, sometimes, falling bombs; then dashing off by bicycle to the various sites. I

16 arrived in Camden readjust after a Heinkelll 11 had dropped a stick....! would have hated to have been a parent at that time!

At Skinner's, during warnings of air-raids, we went down three underground concrete tunnels immediately in front of the School. These had been named Og, Gog, & Magog. My recollection was that we just had fun when in those shelters; nobody persisted long in trying to conduct a lesson. Those shelters accumulated water & their use did not continue for more than a couple of months. (On our recent visit I asked the present Skinner's Head about their fate & was told that they had been broken up & a lawn planted on top of them. There is uncertainty as to whether there might still be cavities under the present lawn. This has protected the lawn from several proposals to replace it with a car-park!)

Shortly after D-Day, June 6th 1944 (my 15th birthday) the assault by the VI, "Flying Bombs", started & Bofors ("Pom-Pom") guns were set up in the field behind the school. We wrote our General School Certificate exams in differing parts of the School, my class mainly in the Physics laboratory, which was in the basement. The "Dicte" part of the French exam took almost double the allotted time due to the frequent interruptions by gun-fire. Shortly thereafter the defensive plan to deal with the Vis was changed & TW was in the area allocated to the fighter aircraft & the guns left. We saw P51s & other aircraft shepherding targets across the town before giving their wings a flick which resulted in gyros toppling & an immediate dive to Earth. On one occasion a herd of cows was hit resulting in extra meat rations for the town!

When we were moved to Frome in July 1944, my parents returned to our house in New Eltham, which was promptly severely damaged by a V1. When we sneaked home for a visit 6 of us slept in one room with my parents on top of the Morrison shelter & the 4 boys below. Finally at Easter in '45 a V2 landed lower down the street demolishing many houses & leaving ours tottering. My brothers had minor injuries leaving me to return to Frome alone to explain our unauthorised absence. We had been billeted in the slum area of the town & learnt a lot about "how the other half live". Studying by candlelight in an unheated room & going to an outside toilet in the snow was an education. However fine-tooth combing fleas out of my hair & hiding the infestation from my classmates was traumatic. When the two young girls in the family arrived home one day with shaven heads a saint from up the road contacted the school & took me over as her boarder. I was treated as a favoured son by that dear old lady. The first billet had other educational facets. The husband was in France in the army &, adding to Dieter's recollection, there were also nights on the town for British paratroopers & for the RAF as well as the separation of the white & black US forces. Hence my hostess had differing suitors for each evening as did many of the locals. The noises from the parlour downstairs were very disturbing to my studies!

One change in the school's organisation that I did not pick up in other writings was the suspension of the house system. Ken being in Day House the whole family ended there. I suspect that the fall in school numbers made operating competition between houses difficult. The competition tended to be between the different forms &, at Vlth, level between the different disciplines. The rub off from this was a certain amount of polarisation; the friends I remember well were mostly on the science side. One clearly needs a house system to cross-pollinate thereby broadening the loyalties. Lack of house rivalry may have impacted on sporting abilities as I do not recollect much coaching at TW & there was almost no sport at Frome. In addition at TW one half-day of sport was spent "Digging for Victory" with Dickie Richardson on our allotments. I suppose 2 spit deep trench digging of virgin ground built up our strength. It did not improve our ball skills! The coaching quality was almost certainly also affected by the absence of the younger generation of teachers on national service. One saw the difference immediately after the war: Playing a less disrupted school our 1st 15 might lose by 40 odd whilst the 2nds won by a similar margin. The natural ability was there but not the implanted skills. Similarly at the first post war School Athletics Sports day in '46 (I think?) I won the half-mile & mile easily, the latter in what must be an enduring slow record time of 5min. 17seconds! The next year was a lot tougher.

Memories of TW include: massive snow fights at lunchtime with Skinner's, our rivalry with them was naturally fierce in all sporting contests.: Pausing for a few minutes in a cricket match in Tonbridge to watch a US Thunderbolt fighter diving at full power into the ground a mile away & then getting on with the game: ATC camps at Biggin Hill, 'op-picking at Brenchley & the farming camps at Benenden. The latter have been covered elsewhere but I do remember decorating Tommy Thomas's old Austin 7. It had

17 a slightly decrepit look to it so we planted flowers, grass etc on the bonnet & running boards. I do not think he was amused.

One farmer had rigged up his Bentley with a hay-sweep in front & went charging round the fields bringing in the hay much faster than we could stack it. In response to a query he took off the sweep & took several of us for a hair-raising high speed drive round the local narrow country lanes. He told us not to worry as the war meant we wouldn't meet any other cars we didn't!

The Local being too crowded WG & I went a little further a field to another one & got very friendly with the clientele there. They were all ancient & highly entertaining with lots of earthy anecdotes: We were accepted, as were the Land Girls, as visitors, but other ancients from villages as close as 5 miles away were shunned as "Furriners".

A group of 5 of us were given the task of harvesting a pea crop which had been ruined by a very wet summer; the stalks of the plants had grown nearly 2 metres & were lying half rotting on the ground. The farmer wanted to turn them into silage so we had to cut them off with sickles & drag them into piles. The ground was muddy & sticky & we had to stop & kick off mud build up every few metres. It was back-breaking work &, during one smoke break, we decided that 3d an hour was too little & nominated BLF to negotiate an increase to 4d the next time the retired Colonel came to check on us. He succeeded.

A farmer's wife gave us a taste of some very rough cider she had made, a teacher was with us that day & asked for a second glass, she demurred, pointing out that it was very strong, but gave it to him; we had to waken him at knock-off time 11 do remember his name. At the ATC camps one generally had fatigue type tasks, working with mechanics on planes, washing dishes in the various messes etc. With a friend we accidentally confused the Officer's mess with the Airman's mess & had a great day as a result; the WAAFs there were all much younger & prettier than in the other messes & the food was excellent. We had rides in various aircraft including a 1938 DC3 still in US Airliner configuration. This was used to familiarise the incoming US 8th. Air Force pilots with the English countryside. The following Easter, '43, we arrived to find the Airfield cluttered with damaged B17s & B24s. These were aircraft which were returning shot-up & with casualties & landed at the first airfield they saw. We managed to sneak onto some of them but were kept away from the really bullet-riddled ones. We were housed in unused married quarters & these must have had a history. BLF was in a downstairs room with 3 others & they had a worrying poltergeist experience which others of us experienced during visits. I went up to march in the VE Parade, representing 665 squadron. There were several comments from people in the crowds who didn't realise that we had such young kids fighting in the war! We did not learn a great deal in the ATC but I still have use for the Morse code as I fly as this is used in the identifying codes of all navigational radio aids.

The move to Frome was clearly an imposition on teachers with families & we lost some. As a result there was little supervision or organised activities at weekends. One can't recount all our exploits but Long Leat remains a golden Summer memory. We used to cycle to a spot close by & then climb fences & hike to reach the lake where we swam for hours in our underwear. On one occasion some of the girls of our age from the Frome Secondary School came past whilst we were in the lake &, just as the chatting was going well, they spotted the unsuitability of our swim wear & rushed away! I think that I got the blame for that!

I went through Colfe's with a group of boy's who would not tolerate bullying; I did not hear any tales of bullying in other groups. However, the Prefects Court was another matter, BLF & I were caught fighting in the cloakroom & were hauled before it & given a most vicious caning by a prefect for whom I shed no tear when his name was announced a couple of years later as having been killed in a training accident..

I do not recall another caning at school, but my ears still ring from many clouts. There were a few teachers who dished out the odd clout (infinitely preferable to "Lines" or detention!) but I did not experience all the teachers. There was one who was vicious; he had been in the First WW, was rumoured to suffer from malaria & had collapsed in class. He was also a vegetarian &, in the first year of the war, was having difficulty with his diet. Once, when he was Duty Teacher over a weekend, & I & another were duty messengers (having cycles) he gave us the job of scouring all the shops in TW for 18 Chocolate bars. We arrived back hours later with one bar of Kit-Kat which he said was useless & gave it to us to eat. In class he was a fair man & invariably balanced a clout on the left ear with one on the right. I think that he had a system in the seating arrangements in class because those of us getting the most clouts were seated in front. However on one occasion he went flying up to the back of the class & grabbed a note being passed from one boy to another. I do not know what was in it, but it would not have been complimentary. Both of them got 2 good clouts & he then moved along asking who had passed the note to the last one he had struck. After about 5 victims one claimed that he had written it & received a double dose of clouts, i.e. 4. A year or so later it was whispered that, in fact, it was someone 4 places removed from him who was the originator. An 11 year old hero had decided to end the carnage & take the blame! Everyone in the know kept quiet to protect the other 4 from the penalty of not having owned up at the time. One feared that teacher during all the years up to the Upper 5th.

As Dieter says, Sniff Chanter was one of our most competent teachers, his sniff was due to an old rugby injury, a prop forward I believe. One story I can tell to back up Dieter: He had written out the result of a problem he had set us on the blackboard & then came around checking our results. Now, he sat us in the reverse order of our exam positions which meant that Colin Wolstenholme was sitting in the back right corner, John Cope next to him & then myself. Sniff-had made a slight transcription error on the board &, (I forget the actual example), he looked at the bottom of the pecking orders solutions first & said something equivalent to "2 + 2 does not make 4!" followed by the usual "Master you are a flea-brain" harangue! He went from pupil to pupil saying about the same & bemoaning the fact, as he reached the back, that he had been cursed with such a class of idiots. I got the same treatment, he hesitated a little at John Cope & then paused at Colin looking first at Colin's result & then staring at the board. "Oh! 2+2 does equal 4!" He strode back to the board & made the change without any sound coming from the class!

Sniffs wife was pressed into service as a PT teacher & my mother talked into babysitting their daughter. They lived close to us & the babysitting resulting in them being friends of my parents I got pressed into helping him by adding up marks. He was Examiner for the Northern Examination Board (or whatever it was called) & marked the Physics papers, my job was to check his addition. The marking was out of 150 & 50 was the pass mark; I was told to flag any paper within 5 marks below the pass mark. When he had finished a batch he would recheck these & usually found reasons to upgrade most of them. In contact with my father some years after his move to BlundelFs he said that he missed the challenge of teaching the bright & motivated pupil's he'd had at Colfe's.

I started history with Mr. Balls (surprisingly I do not recall that he had a nickname) later I had Mr. Davies (sometimes referred to as Itchy). I loved the subject & did well all through school until the Upper 5th when Guy Morris took over to "polish" us before the GSC. I did not enjoy his teaching, got bored with the "When I was in Patagonia" anecdotes & also felt that it was unfair of him to stop Davies from getting the credit for his hard work in the earlier years. I did not study his subject well &, as I had 9 subjects to write I decided unsuccessfully to spot the History exam. As I had done reasonably well in all the other subjects GWM was not amused, told me he took it personally & would not forget. I don't think that he did! As Dieter implied he was not a man to get on the wrong side of!

Weedy Boyden bemoaned the fact that in this school his major task in teaching Latin was to first teach English Grammar. Beaky Southern (yes, it was the nose) loved concentrating on Literature, so much so, that after the war he wrote a thesis (on what I know not) & was awarded a doctorate. He tried to coach us at cricket but was affected by arthritis & a lack of facilities., .such as nets!

Bill Bailey (I think it was Bill) taught me a year of German. I remember Dieter sitting at the back reading, but also several lessons when we had a French, non English speaking, refugee in the class. Bill would break off from time to time & explain to this chap in fluent French the lesson we were having in German.

Spud Praetor (the nickname being an almost direct translation from the Irish) was called up & became Aerial Reconnaissance Photo Interpreter. After the war he gave a lecture on this which was very impressive. His wife took over & was a wonderful teacher as well & once astounded the rest of the class by praising my usual botched attempt.

19 "JB" Birnberg also known as Johnny Brin will always have a special place in my heart; I had also heard that he was a Senior Wrangler at Cambridge but had a vocation as a teacher. His brilliance has been covered by others but his humanity was his strongest quality. As the father of sons I think he was a father figure as well to most of us. I never recall him striking anyone or being personal when criticising. During the war clothes rationing left most of us a little scruffy & he was certainly the same! In an off period at Beacon Road he found me reading a book written to enlighten adolescent boys on sex, it was not pornography, but I suppose the anatomical illustration I was staring at caught his eye & I received a hard clout, very unusual for him & the book was confiscated. This caused me much trouble with the book's owner & the rest of the queue waiting to study it.

Ding Morley was a great chemistry teacher, a loyal school member& supporter of all our sports teams. I forget the exact tale as to how he got his nickname, but it was some prank or other on him, but I do remember another incident involving him. There were 6 survivors in the 3rd year Sixth Science in 1947. We were under a certain amount of strain with all the trekking around & the prospect of more Exams coming up. Ding had a face & nose as red as mine & one afternoon he managed to get a large blob of chalkdust on his nose which, to us, appeared a little hilarious. He then referred to "Lillimeters" & a giggling infection took hold. I personally almost died trying to control myself. The situation wasn't helped when Alan Marsh (then head prefect) asked to be excused & could be heard guffawing in the distance. Whenever we were almost under control Lillimeters would be repeated. & more agony would ensue. To Ding's credit he never gave the slightest indication of having noticed the ongoing disturbance.

Most other teachers have been covered many times by other writers: Not mentioned were Rabblah & Phil Tennant, who also arrived at Beacon Road, & were both loveable characters whom one got to know through their efforts to rehabilitate the school's sporting reputation.

I suppose the interesting question is; did one's education suffer because of the War experiences? In spite of some downsides I believe that one can make the case that we gained a great deal! We had a very broad education & developed the ability to cope with any difficulties that life might throw at us in later years; & we developed some very strong friendships!

DEREK ULLMANN (1940-1946)

Memories of Colfe's Grammar School September 1940 - July 1946 Preface. I joined Colfe's Grammar School in September 1940 when the main school was evacuated to Tunbridge Wells. I left in July 1946 by which time the school had returned to South London. I rapidly lost contact with the School (university, career, family commitments, usual excuses) and did not re-establish contact until Spring 2002. Shortly after, Mr Andy Brooker (the Development Officer) sent me some copies of Colfe's News. I noticed that these included reminiscences and it occurred to me to suggest to Andy that before all the war time (1939-1945) pupils became incapable of it, a collection of their memoirs might be made for the possible amusement of future generations of Colfeians. I was informed that John Garrett and Cecil Florey were engaged in writing about this period. The latter was attending the Colfe's sermon on 23 June 2002 (coming all the way from Australia) and Andy kindly invited me to visit the school to meet Cecil and attend the sermon. 1 do not know whether Cecil remembered me but the longer I reminisced with him, the more I recalled him in his youth. The point I need to make here is that these memoirs are being written 50+ years after the event. They are not based on diaries, but only on the (very fallible) memory of one person. The other consideration is that the more I think about those days, the more comes to mind. Finally, meeting with Cecil Florey and talking with John Garrett has sparked off more memories and I hope that we might be able to arrange a reunion soon of our contemporaries to revive even more.

My visit to the school on the occasion of the Abraham Colfe sermon was a culture shock. I had never experienced Colfe's as an organisation in its own buildings. We were a group united by name and, if you like, esprit de corps (or the staff), but definitely physically rootless. Our peacetime base was soon destroyed by bombs and in any case, I had never known it, joining the school directly in its war time exile in Tunbridge Wells. 1 was increasingly impressed as 1 found my way to the main entrance of the 20 present school from Lee station. I was even more impressed by the School turn out for the sermon. The pupils in school uniform and the staff in academic dress. Mr Morris, our headmaster, would have approved of that-he invariably wore his gown, as did on occasion Mr Morley, the deputy head. It was this culture shock which determined me to set down these few memories and to try and persuade my contemporaries to do likewise so that one day future Colfeians might be amused by the experiences of their predecessors.

It will be noted that when referring to the School formally I call it by its name in at the time: Colfe's Grammar School. Also, when I refer to my contemporaries, I shall use the mode of address we used at the time, surname or nickname. We rarely used Christian names except with closest friends. Members of staff will be referred to respectfully I hope, and the use of their nicknames is meant to be a mark of affection rather than disrespect.

I have never kept a diary and my letters to my parents were scrappy and uninformative. Fortunately, they have not been preserved and therefore the whole of these memoirs are the product of the mind of a 70+ year old man looking back into the past and trying to remember his feelings, his impressions, and some facts as he remembers them.

An evacuee in Tunbridge Wells. I arrived in Tunbridge Wells at the beginning of September 1940 in time for the start of the September term. I had been kitted out with the school uniform at Chieseman's: cap, blazer, tie, socks, rugby shorts and shirt. The cap was dark blue with a yellow circular band on the crown and the School badge in yellow on the front. The blazer was dark blue and again had the School badge in yellow on the top pocket. The socks had one blue and one yellow band on the top part that one folded over the elastic band to keep them up. The rugby shirt had alternate blue and yellow horizontal bands making us look like a lot of angry wasps. Perhaps a more accurate and elegant description of all the colours would be dark navy and gold.

I cannot remember the exact sequence of events but on arrival in TW (presumably by Green Line) we were allocated our billets by the billeting master. I did not know any of the masters at the time, but later learned that the billeting master was Mr. Meredith, who taught geography and was known as Sarky. I was sent to an address in Dorking Road and shared the billet with another junior, C. Wolstenholme. I cannot remember the name of our host and hostess, but they were an elderly and kind couple. I think our host was a retired gardener and a keen follower of a comic called Chips (or was it Comic Cuts?) which appeared weekly printed on pink paper.

Colfe's shared school buildings with the Skinner's School. The arrangement was that Skinner's had the run of the buildings in the mornings and Colfe's took them over in the afternoon. As far as Colfe's was concerned, the morning lessons took place in whatever suitable accommodation could be found in town such as Byng Hall and The Red Triangle Boys Club. Also in the mornings we had the run of Skinner's playing fields and Dicky Richardson, the biology master, had us cultivating our allotments.

I started the term in L 4A and my first form-master was Johnny Johnson. Almost the first thing we learnt after the initial assembly that first afternoon at Skinner's was the location of the air raid shelters at the school. There were three air raid shelters called Og, Gog, and Magog. Depending upon which room the class was in at the time of the air raid warning, pupils would make their orderly(!) way to the shelter which had been allocated to that room. The lesson would then continue as best it could in the shelter. I remember that these shelters were damp dark and dingy, with the minimum of illumination, so the continuation of lessons was only a token activity. This was the tail end period of daylight raids of the Battle of Britain and we frequently used the shelters during September. Later, when the Luftwaffe changed its tactics to night attacks, we had little occasion to use the shelters during lessons.

I cannot remember whether there were any shelter arrangements for the playing fields or the allotments. The sites around town used the nearest public shelter; J remember one particularly, under a rock formation on TW common which we were supposed to use when in the Red Triangle Club.

21 The billetting system must be described as seen from the worms-eye view. To be perfectly honest, I detested being away from my parents. My father had joined the army and narrowly missed being sent to France; he was on embarkation leave at the time of Dunkirk, or rather we were allowed by the army to visit him in camp in North Devon before going to France. He was obviously not sent and was now cooling his heels somewhere in England, as the current phrase went. Actually, it was Newmarket Racecourse. My mother was living in Tyrwhitt Road, just off Hilly Fields and had no plans or intention of moving. I was not terribly content with the enforced separation and therefore unsettled. This was expressed in discontentment with my hosts and billets. I suppose that for ordinary evacuees the hosts acted in loco parentis, but when a school was evacuated as a unit, the school naturally assumed some of these functions. At Colfe's, Sarky Meredith was the billetting officer and requests to change one's billet were made to him. He would do his best to find a new billet, but obviously quickly got fed up with people who couldn't or wouldn't settle. After one change, I did not bother him anymore. I found my own billets and presented him with a fait accompli. I do not think I was ever a favourite of his. Just as an aside, the Government paid hosts ten shillings and sixpence a week for each evacuee (10/6) which equals 52.5 pence in present day (2002) money. Quite a number of Colfe's parents sent hosts or hostesses a little extra; in my case my mother sent my hostesses an additional half-a-crown (two shillings and sixpence) a week. That princely sum equates to 12.5 present pence. As far as I am aware, these sums did not change throughout the war.

A number of mothers decided to set up home in TW and I envied those school friends of mine who had a proper home life. Lewis Orton, who with Roger Coleman became one of my two life-long friends, was one of these - his father having worked for the Port of London Authority before the war found himself as a wireless operator (I think) on mine sweepers for the duration. Mrs Orton moved to TW rather than stay alone in Kidbrooke Park Road, with the result that secretly I envied Lewis all throughout our stay in TW. He had to rough it like everyone else, though, when we were re-evacuated toFrome in 1944.

The distance of the billet and whether the hostess was out at work or not determined whether one could go "home" for lunch. If not, lunch was taken in the British Restaurant which I think was located somewhere in the barely finished but never officially opened Civic Centre. Officially, it cost 4 pence (Up) but 1 think we had vouchers for it. Also, if the billet was some distance removed from the School, we were given season tickets for the buses. The use of these could be the subject of controversy between the passengers and the conductors. Officially they were only valid for journeys to and from school and it was sometimes quite difficult to persuade a conductor that an evening journey was made to an evening school function and not to the cinema or the Red Triangle Boys' Club. Later, when I moved to Rusthall, 1 had such a season ticket but I often preferred to use my bicycle, especially since the last bus to Rusthall left the town centre at about 8.30 p.m.

The concise history of my meanderings in the TW area was Dorking Road, followed by 9, The Pantiles, then a move to Rusthall. First to 11(?) Erskine Park Road and finally to 37(?) Manor Road. I cannot put any dates to these moves. The stays at Dorking Road and The Pantiles were relatively short. The billet in The Pantiles was shared with a boy called Read. The billet was a flat above a butcher's shop. Erskine Park Road I abandoned after a year or two for a room of my own in Manor Road because I imagined this would give me more privacy to study during the run up to General School Certificate. Of course that was sheer self-deception; I do not remember studying any harder after the move. During my stay in Rusthall 1 used to travel to lessons with a boy called Derek Vince. We were in the same class but did not take identical courses. He was billetted in the road parallel to Erskine Park Road and in between these two roads was the terminus of the 81 bus which took us to the bottom of St Johns Road, ready for the ascent to Skinners. At this terminus was a small sweet shop, where we would occasionally drop in to enquire whether they had any sweets. That was before sweet rationing was introduced; after that the meagre (was it 2ozs a week at the beginning?) supply was relatively easily obtained. Although rationing assured a supply of sweets, choice was limited. One of the many brilliant bits of administration designed as part of the war effort was to restrict the choice of sweets in a zone of the U.K. to those sweets manufactured in the area. This saved on transport and distribution. The result for us was that Mars. Milky Way and other products (made in Slough) were available, but Rowntrees from York and others originating from the North were not "exported" to TW,

22 At the top of St Johns Road and before one got to Skinners, was the Tuck Shop where we could get a drink for a penny. I remember some of the various flavours: blackcurrant, sarsaparilla, dandelion and burdock.

To continue the saga of my billets. In 1944 after taking the General School Certicate examination we were re-evacuated to Frome in Somerset. This, we were told, was because TW lay in the path of the VI flying bombs and was in the area in which Typhoons would try either to shoot them down or tilt them over. The School was re-evacuated as a unit, in a train routed to avoid London. After leaving TW station (and I cannot recall whether we left from TW Central Or TW West) we went round the south and west of London to join the (then) GWR line to the West Country at Reading and on to Frome. That phase of the evacuation will be dealt with later. Obviously, life in TW evolved as we grew up over the four years there, from L IVA to U Va. In the beginning, it was school and evenings spent in the billet. Homework, reading and hobbies occupied our spare time. Quite a number tried their hand at modelling and Frog kits were all the rage. Spitfires, Hurricanes and the occasional Me 109 were favourites. I was particularly impressed by the dexterity shown by some of my contemporaries in constructing and painting these models. A boy called Birkett seemed to produce some well-finished models. My friend Orton, although an accomplished model maker, was more into railways, and subsequently produced some very acceptable rolling stock. As we grew older, we acquired more freedom to stay out in the evenings and this allowed an expansion of outside activities. Cinemas came within the range of outside interests and the two I remember are the Opera House and the Ritz (or was it the Regal?). Both usually had queues and entry to films other than U certificate could be difficult if one obeyed the school rule of wearing school cap and tie on all occasions. Later, of course, having discovered the opposite sex, it became even more embarrassing to be turned away from an A certificate film because you and/or your companion looked under age. I joined the Red Triangle Boys Club, which was a junior branch of the YMCA. During the day, some of the rooms were reserved for School lessons, but in the evenings the whole building reverted to its prime use as a boys' club. We played table tennis and joined in various other activities. I even spent some time behind the counter of the "cafeteria" in the basement where I learned to make scrambled egg and "omelettes" from dried egg powder.

When in the Junior School I also gained 2 Junior Red Cross certificates, one in 1942, the other a year later. These were awarded for passing examinations in First Aid. I also passed the Junior Artificial Respiration Examination of the Royal Life Saving Society. All these certificates were the result of training classes held by Mr Praetor, the Arts Master. Fortunately for the potential clients, I have never had the opportunity to apply these skills in earnest. However, the lectures kept us off the streets and out of trouble and the Civil Defence organisations would occasionally use us as "casualties" in exercises. Later, in the Senior School, we joined the ATC and took part in parades, drill, learned Morse code, navigation, and aircraft recognition. Interestingly, some of the instructional material had a link to our General School Certificate work. For instance, in navigation the old triangle of velocities which Sniffy Chanter drummed into us in Mechanics turned up in plotting the course of an aircraft. Ohm's law turned up in wireless lectures.

However, all evening activities were restricted by the times of the last bus to outlying districts. This was 8.30p.m for me at Rusthall. A walk home in the blackout was not an attractive proposition. There were no streetlights and the use of torches to find the way across the Common was frowned upon by the Air Raid Wardens. Equally, the little light allowed on bicycles made their use somewhat hazardous at night in the winter.

All this time in TW I was growing up and my tastes were evolving. When 1 first came to TW my reading comprised the Boys' Own Paper, The Wizard, Hotspur, and other comics which were lent by friends. Soon paper became scarcer and comics could generally only be bought if ordered from the newsagent, who might or not accept your standing order. Also, interests changed. After a year or two I dropped the BOP and the others and placed standing orders with the newsagent (was his name Mr. Cross?) opposite and a little beyond Skinners from the St Johns Road end. He supplied me with The Aeroplane Spotter and Soviet War News, the latter I would send on to my father after reading it myself. He was stationed for 18 months or so in Nigeria. I have never found out how this furthered the war effort in any way but at least I followed the advice printed in most books of the time to pass on reading

23 matter to the forces. I was an avid member of the Public Library in TW and my favourite author was of course Capt. W.E. Johnson. I remember that some other boys seemed to prefer G. Rochester and Percy F. Westerman, but I always found sea stories too cold and wet for my comfort. The idea of flying however was more attractive, although I was constantly afraid of disgracing myself by being airsick when we were taken up on short flights during ATC camps. In all I attended 3 or 4 ATC camps with the Schools ATC squadron, No 665 as well as a short gliding course at an Elementary Gliding School in Upper Warlingham and an unofficial week at Detling as a helper on an ATC Officers' gliding course. This latter was after the end of the war and the station was no longer operational. The first two annual camps were spent in Biggin Hill during the war when the station was fully operational. These weeks were exciting for us. We were allowed to crawl over the Spitfires. We were actually supposed to be cleaning them, washing off the oil with gunk. But after routine maintenance the engine was revved up and the throttle was taken "through the gate", i.e. over 3000 revs. This operation always necessitated a few erks lying on and over the tail plane to keep the tail on the ground. Exciting and to small boys frightening but exhilarating. I obtained my ATC Proficiency Certificate in the "Radio Trade", was duly promoted to corporal and lectured in aircraft recognition.

Re-evacuation to Frome. As mentioned previously, in the summer of 1944 the School was re-evacuated to Frome because of the VI flying bombs. These started soon after D-Day and my first reaction to seeing one was of disbelief: this flying object with flames shooting out at the back had no propeller. It was something out of the Wizard or Hotspur. Nevertheless, we soon learnt that they were real. We were just about to take General School Certificate and I suspect that re-evacuation was delayed until the exams were over. Most of the exams were taken in Skinner's Hall with the desks arranged along the wails. The centre of the Hall was kept clear of desks and candidates in the hope that the glass from the high windows would be blown there by any explosions. Fortunately this was never put to the test. I remember leaving one examination and walking down to the 81 bus stop when I saw overhead a VI hot pursued by a Spitfire or Typhoon, I cannot now remember which, with its cannons blazing and 20mm shell cases raining on to the street. I think the VI must have escaped because I cannot remember an explosion. It was always said that the examiners that year made allowance for the conditions under which we were taking the exam. Certainly 1 put my pass in Latin down to that and so did The Weed (Mr. Boyden). When I told him later of my pass, he looked at me and said "Ullmann, anyone who knows how bad you are at Latin will accuse me of having employed teaching methods I do not approve of to get that result". On reflection, those must have been the last words we ever exchanged because I passed into LVISc the following term and I think he left the School soon after that.

The actual journey to our new homes has already been mentioned above. Conditions in Frome were less comfortable than in TW, where after 4 years we were reasonably familiarised with our surroundings. There was already one other London school evacuated there whose name I forget. The local (secondary modern?) school where we shared some classrooms was run by a head, Mr. Foster(?), who gave every impression of not liking us. There were green painted corrugated iron huts in the field next to the school, which were said to have served as an isolation hospital in the 1914-1918 war. The roofs leaked and some holes were in the floorboards. Heating I cannot remember but may have been by stoves. In one of these huts Sniffy Chanter set up his practical Physics experiments. Just outside the town the U.S. Army had established a camp on the Orchardleigh Estate. Leave for the occupants to go into town was strictly controlled. One night for whites, one for blacks. This was not always strictly adhered to, resulting in occasional fights in town. At one the local fire brigade split the mob up by turning their hoses on the crowd. Much more effective than the U.S. Military Police. Billets for us late comers were in short supply. T had one temporary one and then found myself a billet on a farm on the Orchardleigh Estate. The farmer and his wife were a Mr and Mrs Moon. For the last term or so of our stay in Frome I had to move into hostel accommodation. This had been set up because billets were becoming scarcer and scarcer. Two hostels were set up. One, whose name or location I cannot remember, consisted of a long corrugated iron hut of the same type of construction as the huts of the old isolation hospital which were some of our classrooms. I remember this as a dismal, damp and gloomy place. Two lavatories were at one end beds were placed along each long wall. The other outstanding memory is of a boy called Davies. surely the forerunner of hippies. He was quite a character, but he also possessed a crystal ("cat's whiskers") wireless set and he spread yards of aerial through the dormitory. He also had an ingenious plan for placing a metal plate connected to a shocking coil in front of the WC pan and a

24 similarly wired electrode inside the pan. It would then be up to the users of the WC in bare feet to complete the circuit. I cannot remember whether he ever put this scheme into operation. The second hostel to which we were moved was a disused dairy depot. Here at least we were installed in the domestic part of the building. A couple had the role of host and hostess and prepared our meals, breakfast and evening meal. They also kept some semblance of order, but by this time we of the Vlth form considered ourselves capable of setting a good example to the rest of the occupants. I shared a room with Able, Durling and Watts, all of them prefects, and I do not remember any serious disturbances in this hostel. I cannot now remember the location of this hostel, but it was in the town and I do remember its yard with the loading bays for milk churns. It was a relatively enjoyable existence because my room companions were an agreeable and intellectually stimulating lot. With Wattie I experimented with pipe smoking. Disastrously we started with something called Franklin's Mild and only afterwards learned that it is not good to smoke in a pipe tobacco intended for rolling cigarettes. Also, the pipes we could afford and which were available were rarely briars and generally cherry wood or cheaper. Our first attempts therefore were really designed to prevent us from becoming pipe smokers, but I at least persevered and enjoyed pipe smoking until about 1974 since when I have become a non- smoker. The reason why we did not start on cigarettes was, I suppose, that at that time the ordinary Virginian "fags" such as Players, Woodbines and Capstan were scarce, and tobacconists would keep supplies for their regular customers only and not hand them out to schoolboys setting out on the road to smoking. Durling started an occasional music club, which met in the secondary school buildings. He was the proud possessor of a few classical records. Records at that time were expensive and in short supply. At some shops one had to hand in an old record before being allowed to purchase a new one. It should be recalled that these were either 10" or 12" 78 rpm shellac records and we prided ourselves in being sufficiently expert recordphiles to play them with thorn instead of steel needles in order to reduce wear on the record. Durling introduced me to Beethoven's 8* of which he had a recording and also impressed me with his exaggerated description of Beethoven's 9th: "1000 sopranos tearing out their throats". I believe that at that time,or was it the following school year, Able was captain of the school. Another out-of-school activity during this period was the debating society where we learnt the art of presenting and/or destroying any reasonable or unreasonable proposition. Stars in this field were Searle, Smedley and Marsh amongst others. We went for the occasional bicycle ride to the Vobster quarries, Wells cathedral and explored the Cheddar gorge and Bath. We were now in the Upper School and Lords of Creation. McClintock and I found two fezzes and dressed up as what we thought were Egyptians complete with blackout curtains as cloaks. We then spread out a picnic in Frome Park to celebrate VE Day. I cannot recall that any of the Frome inhabitants took any notice of us. The end of exams and the summer term marked our welcome return to our homes in London. There the School on the hill had been destroyed by enemy action and for the new school year we were joined by our emergency school in the buildings of the LCC Beacon Road School.

Some memories of the Staff. It is very difficult at a distance of half a century to convey one's feelings of individual members of staff. I now regard some of the members with totally different feelings; in most cases I feel more benevolent and in some cases I feel genuinely sorry for my behaviour towards them.

Mr. G.W Morris. The Headmaster. In the Junior school I had little contact with the Old Man, as he was known. There was a school rule that permission for any overnight or longer absence from a billet had to be obtained from him. The temporary address had to be declared and if this was within the evacuation area, permission to stay there was only granted in the most exceptional circumstances. A number of parents lived outside the evacuation area but their sons stayed with the School when it was evacuated. I never learnt the exact limits of the evacuation area but I seem to remember that that my friend Lewis Orton's house at 129 Kidbrooke Park Road was either close to the limit or even just outside it. I think his grandparents who lived not far away were well outside the limit. Other people who lived in Penge also were outside the limit. These people therefore had no difficulty in obtaining permission to go home for the week end and could frequently be found on a Friday Green Line homeward bound. The rest of us would join them illegally on occasions, such as birthdays or members of the family embarkation leave or even just homesickness. It really depended on the attitude of one's hostess. If she was prepared to turn a blind eye after receiving an unofficial request from a parent to let the son come home for the weekend, there was little the staff would or could do to keep the boy in TW over the weekend. However, if you had a

25 hostess as I had one time who told the Old Man of my intention to go up to London without his permission, there was bound to be trouble when the Old Man received the message. During a brief but nasty interview he informed me that he would personally cane me if I persisted in going up to London. I did not go; instead, my mother came down for the day on the Sunday, and soon after I changed my billet- He was quite right of course, because he could not ignore a wilful flouting of School rules, but I also think that ever afterwards he regarded me as an unreliable member of the School. In any case, I was never made a prefect. That encounter was while I was still in the Junior School. I did not have the Old Man as a teacher until I entered the Vlth form. This was the science stream and I think that he was of the opinion that we "scientists" needed at least a veneer of culture and education before being let loose upon the world. So he devoted two periods a week talking to us about current affairs, a broad enough description to serve a multitude of subjects. I see now that he was a man of a truly liberal outlook, anxious to make people question authority, encourage them to think out a problem and come to their own, considered conclusion. He got us to buy at a special rate of 2 pence the weekly "Spectator" and his "current affairs" could range from the Palestine problem to the history of India. His "maps" on the board were wonderfully simple and schematic: the shoreline of Turkey, Syria, the Lebanon, and Palestine was represented by three sides of a rectangle; the Golden Crescent was just that. One of his regular questions to VISc pupils was:" What is the purpose of the short horizontal bar sticking out under the light of a gas street lamp?" Inevitably, the engineers and chemists would reply that the maintenance man would lean his ladder against it. "No, no, no" came the answer from the Old Man," every five years we hang a cabinet minister from there - pour encourager les autres!" For "scientists" who were prepared to listen to him he did wonders in teaching them to differentiate between true facts and propaganda and to weigh the evidence. He also instilled in us values of justice and individual liberty. These were still the days of Empire and one of his preferred careers for his scholars was the Indian Civil Service. If academic achievements were not good enough for that, then, providing one's sports achievements were good enough, there was the Indian Army. I remember one boy (captain of rugger and of cricket?) staying in the UVth for a number of terms trying his School Certificate (in those days one had to pass all the minimum required subjects at one go) to pass into the Indian Army. We believed that this bias towards India was because Mrs. Morris was said to come from a family of ICS administrators. He would frequently quote from Gilbert and Sullivan much to the disdain of people like myself and Durling, who considered G&S as not serious enough music. At the time I did not fully appreciate him but I recognise now that the few lessons I had with him in the Vlth pointed to a different way of thinking.

Mr Morley, Deputy Headmaster. "Ding" Morley was the Deputy Head and Head of Chemistry. He was a different character from the Old Man. In the Junior and Middle Schools I had little to do with him. We first became seriously aware of him when he took over the functions of the Old Man when the latter sustained head injuries in a road accident and had to spend several weeks (was it a term?) in hospital and convalescing. Ding, it was said, was an Old Boy of the School, leaving just long enough to get his degree before coming back to teach there. He was proud of the School and devoted to it. When addressing the School and senior boys, however, he managed to convey a certain naivete and give the impression of a lack of a sense of humour. It is possible that it was more of a case that his sense of humour was not ours. On two occasions when taking assembly he had us Vth formers on the point of laughing out loud. His description of the Old Man's road accident (" the lorry stopped in front of Mr. Morris on his bicycle and a soldier jumped out right on Mr. Morris....") and a subsequent admonition to the School concerning the throwing of school caps into the gang mower on Skinners' field (" not only does it damage the mower but it also ruins the caps"....) became part of our Ding experience. He was our form master in the Vlth form and, of course, taught us chemistry. He taught from and dictated notes and it was noticed that certain jokes were standard for the course. "Beryllium comes from an ore called Beryl" was eagerly awaited by those who had had a glance of the previous year's set of notes. Another was his imitation of an indignant Mendeleev thinking himself ignored at an international conference. Ding would stick his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat and strutting up and down in front of the class would intone: "Ich bin Mendeleev".

Mr. Birnberg. JB as he was universally known was head of maths. It was rumoured that he had been a senior wrangler during his time at Cambridge. We didn't know what a senior wrangler was or how one became one, but

26 we all imagined that it was an honour bestowed upon particularly brilliant students He was a benign and benevolent man. His outlook seemed to be that he was there to teach those people who could be bothered to learn. If you did not make the effort, he was not going to force you. Unfortunately, he taught from the driest, uninteresting and unimaginative textbooks I have ever encountered. I came to hate Loney and Hall was not far behind. He rode an ancient bicycle to and from our various classrooms and around TW, but I have no recollection of him riding it in Frome. Perhaps the terrain was too hilly. On one occasion during a study period he was supervising in a church hall, he opened the harmonium in the hall and pressed down some of the keys. Searle turned round and said;" Johann Sebastian Birnberg, I presume", which we all thought was very witty and JB accepted with a gentle, cynical smile. In retrospect, he looked then very like Alfred Brendel looks today.

Mr. Wells. Here I must admit shame. To think of the stupid tricks we played on poor Billy Wells gives me a feeling of shame and regret, yet at the time, cruel and nasty boys that we were, it was considered good sport. Billy was the second maths master and like JB rode an ancient bicycle. He was also secretary of the School Savings Group so that his standard equipment included not only a register and schoolbooks but also a tin cash box containing money and savings stamps. Billy was always pretty loaded when entering a classroom. This made him an easy target for anything like a waste paper basket above the door. In Byng Hall we sat at long tables which were each supported at either end by trestles whose legs were held in position by a thin rope. Regularly this was cut before the lesson, leaving the trestle standing by friction, until during the lesson a slight nudge would cause the trestle to collapse. Billy would then attempt to raise the fallen end of the table and helpful boys would prop up the trestle. No sooner had Billy returned to the board than the other end of the table would collapse. Frequently, he would then give up and we would finish the lesson with the tables completely on the floor and our arms folded. Hannah once or twice threw very realistic fainting fits, but the second time Billy was not fooled. Hannah was allowed to lie on the floor for the remainder of the lesson ignored by Billy and the rest of the class. Billy taught us in the Vth and I found it a struggle to learn, but fortunately I also took Advanced Maths with JB and consolidated my knowledge of Trigonometry and Algebra in that course. Mechanics with Sniffy Chanter also helped to bolster up my knowledge of Maths which I should have been doing with Billy.

Mr Chanter. Sniffy Chanter was Head of Physics. I think he was generally feared, particularly by the younger boys. In the LVth we had to choose between Biology, Chemistry and Physics combined and another subject I do not remember, or Chemistry and Physics each as a main subject and Mechanics as an additional subject. I am sure that quite a few boys chose the Biology option because of fear from Sniffy and admiration for Dicky Richardson, the Biology master. I wanted to do Chemistry as a main subject and so I took my courage in my hands and opted for that, Physics and Mechanics. For this option we had Ding for Chemistry, and Sniffy for Physics and Mechanics. Gradually I learnt that Sniffy's bark was worse than his bite. He could be very cutting and sarcastic but he rarely resorted to physical punishment. His method of teaching was to bully the pupil, if necessary, to learn the clear and precise notes which he would dictate during the lesson. Those notes were good and I referred to them even, occasionally, through university. It was interesting that I had the impression as already mentioned above, that learning Mechanics with Sniffy helped me with the Trigonometry I was learning with Billy Wells. Sniffy addressed all boys as "Master" and one of his famous tirades would go like this: "What are you? Fleabrain, Master; and when I say fleabrain, I do not mean brain the size of a flea, I mean brain the size of a flea's brain." Sniffy was OC of the School ATC flight, No.665 with the rank of Flying Officer and accompanied us on the summer camps. He left the School on our return from Frome, at the end of the Summer term 1945 to go to BlundelPs, I believe.

Mr. Johnson. My first form master when I joined in 1940. He taught us English in the LlVth and was generally respected and popular. He was called up around about the end of my first year at Colfe's and afterwards reported missing, believed killed, in action in the Libyan desert. The whole of the School was depressed when the Old Man announced the report in assembly.

Mr. Stevens.

27 He was my second form master. I believe he joined us from Dulwich in 1941 and I see from my reports that he was both a B.Sc. and a B.Mus., details which had escaped me before now. The latter degree explains of course why he played the organ at assembly and why, later, he encouraged us to attend concerts in the TW Assembly Hall. Mr Stevens would make the tour of the School selling concessionary tickets. The concerts were given mainly by the Tunbridge Wells Symphony Orchestra, leader Esther Burdett-Coutts, conductor George Weldon. At first, and in the lower School, we were not very interested, and few of us bought tickets for these Sunday afternoon concerts. Gradually as we grew up we went, diffidently at first and more confidently later. The many artists I heard in TW thanks to Mr Stevens ticket selling activities were Noel Mewton-Wood, Shulamith Shafir, Alec Sherman, Solomon, and others whose names escape me. Essentially Mr Stevens taught Chemistry (I think he did the Chemistry plus Physics course for LVth who opted for that and Biology). As form master for UTVa he taught us Chemistry and also Music. The latter could hardly be taught seriously under the conditions but I remember constructing a mock-up piano keyboard out of postcards joined end-to-end with the keys drawn on them in pencil. Also, at the outset of each music lesson he would ask us what piece of music we had listened to during the week. I think my invariable answer was the 1812 Overture, of which my parents had an old scratchy recording (and that of course would also tell him that I had been home for the weekend without permission). After the UVIth I never had any more lessons with him, but I remember him as a kind and popular teacher.

Mr Goldsmith. Passing on into the LVth, we progressed to Mr Goldsmith as our form master. As well as being form master, be taught us French. A consequence of the wartime conditions was, of course, that study tours to foreign countries were out of the question "for the duration" as the official phrase went. We had no means of hearing or conversing with native speakers and all conversational French was conducted between ourselves and Mr. Goldsmith (or Mr Clements, the other French master). In spite of his difficulty in hearing, however, he managed to teach me enough French, and make it stick, to give the basic knowledge of the language to enable me to cope when I moved to take up a new post in France 27 years after leaving Colfe's. Recently (2002) I was introduced to an Old Colfeian who had been at the School a year or two in front of me. It turned out to be Mr. Goldsmith's son. I expressed my surprise to him that none of us ever suspected that father and son were at the same School. This must be one of the rare failures in the grapevine system- we thought we knew all that was worth knowing about the Staff. Two readers stand out in my memory. One was a tale about a "poilu" which I never finished and the other was Andre Maurois' "Les Silences Du Colonel Bramble".

Mr Clements. The other French master (see above). I think when first joining Colfe's I had a few lessons with Mr Clements but all my reports from UVIa onwards are in the same handwriting (Mr. Goldsmith's) and there is little I can say about Mr Clements.

Mr Bailey. In UVa Mr Bailey became my form master. He taught us German. I had spent the first 5 or so years of my education in Germany and therefore did not need much instruction in schoolboy German. He used to suggest titles of German literature which I could obtain from the public library and he let me read them at the back of the class. Consequently, I missed all the famous mnemonics currently quoted in Old Colfeian memoirs. On the other hand, I did read a remarkable selection of books from the rather limited choice in the library, including the text but not the music of "Der Ring Des Nibelungen". At the time it was rumoured that Mr Bailey had been a fives champion and that this accounted for the hardness of his hand when he walloped a boy.

Mr. Thomas. Head of Geography, form master of the VI modern, people who studied geography and economics and suchlike. Also sportsmaster and. being Welsh, rugby specialist. He was rumoured to play (successfully) the stockrnarket in collaboration with JB. He was an officer in the TW Home Guard and as such had a petrol allowance for his Austin 7. He was the only member of staff I remember driving a car. On the occasional cross-country run starting from Skinners playing field pavilion, he would start the run and then appear at crucial points around the course in the car, only to find me walking instead of running. He was also the author of this comment on my 1941 Christmas term report "He seems to find rugby

28 football too strenuous for his taste", a comment which caused pleasure and amusement to my son, a keen rugby player. A classic command of Mr. Thomas' in Skinner's gym where there was a shortage of equipment was "One jump over the beam and imaginary beam -jump". I was never confident climbing the ropes in the gym. I was certain that I should lose my grip once I got to the top. I used to climb up half way just out of reach of Mr Thomas who had the unpleasant habit of bending the bottom part of the rope and using it to encourage the unfortunate victim to climb higher.

Mr Stockbridge. The woodwork master although on the School's report form this subject is listed as Handicraft. I was not very good at this subject and never really enjoyed sharpening chisels or making a mortice and tenon joint. At one stage, Roger Coleman, Lewis Orton and I proposed making a doll's house to be sold for charity funds. None of us had any idea how to set about it and the project came to nothing except that Mr Stockbridge regretted the waste of wood, which like everything else during the war, was in short supply. Eventually he decided that wood was too scarce to allow people like me to mess it around and that I was more usefully employed wielding the broom to keep the woodwork room clean. In the whole of my career at School I did make one recognisable object, a test-tube stand.

Mr. Praetor. The arts master. Another of my weaker subjects. In the Junior School we were all fascinated by aeroplanes and battle scenes and I could just about draw a sideways representation of a Spitfire or a Skua dive-bomber. It did not get me very far and I dropped arts as soon as I could. Mr Praetor was the owner of a thick knarled stick which had a name I do not recall. I do not know whether he ever used it in earnest on one of us. He replaced Sniffy Chanter as OC of the ATC flight when the latter left Colfe's. He also taught us First Aid as an out of school activity.

Mr (or was it Major?) Balls. When I first joined and went into LFVa most boys there had already done a year of Latin in Ilia. Mr. Balls seemed unaware of the fact that I had not. At least, he never bothered to explain to me that the language did not use the definite article and the first translation homework was spent desperately looking through the vocabulary for a translation of "the". I never really caught up. Mr Balls left or was called up before the academic year was out and apart from the that he did nothing to stir my interest in the subject, I have little memory of him.

Mr. Boyden. Known as The Weed, he taught me Latin or, rather, attempted to teach me Latin, for the three years from UlVa to General School Certificate. The result is already mentioned above. I regret now not having mastered the language and also because of my lack of application not having had a better relationship with the Weed. I suspect that he was more erudite than we gave him credit for. hi any case he did instil in me a liking of the text of our set books, The Gaelic Wars and The Aeneid.

Mr Mowaf. He replaced the Weed when the latter left and was therefore called Chickweed. By the time he came I had passed into the Vlth form and was above things like Latin. However, after a year the Old Man grew tired of trying to civilise VISc and Chickweed was landed with "philosophy" classes (2 periods a week). I liked these because he managed to present succinctly some of the great thinkers and allowed us the occasional logical discussions.

Mr McClaughlin. Our English master and because he was Irish, called Paddy. He did not like me much and the feeling was mutual. His dislike was expressed by making me read the part of Shylock every time we read the play; it was one of our set books. Everyone else changed parts on a new reading except me. As a result, I have come to realise that Shylock is the only worthwhile, constant character in the whole play, the others being a complete set of whimps. He did teach us English Grammar and would certainly never have tolerated today's "different to". Oliphant was our Bible and he also introduced a sort of collector's book in which we had to write examples of figures of speech as we came across them in our reading. One of his favourite phrases was "adollevents"; after some months Hannah, I think, plucked up courage to ask him what he meant. It turned out to be Irish for "at all events".

29 Mr. Southern. Known as The Beak or Beaky. I think he was Head of English but he never taught me during my school career. Later in the Upper School he presided over meetings of the debating society.

Mr. Dacombe. In the Junior School he taught us French for a short time. When I was in the Vlth in Beacon Road he started a small choral society and I remember practising Moeran's setting of a Shakespeare song which had the delightful phrase ".. while greasy Joan doth keel the pot".

Mr. Davies. A somewhat remote and stern figure who taught history.

Mr Bennett. Known as Bunny Bennett whose photograph later appeared in "The History of Colfe's Grammar School, 1652-1952". Taught us History during a short period of my start at School. I have the impression that he taught the subject in the then traditional way, which obliged us to learn a large number of significant dates.

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