Most
of the interesting and amusing recollections of Price's staff have been
about the post-war contingent - after my time. Here are a few
memories of war-time, mainly short term and temporary, people (men and
women), in no particular order.
'Boggy'
Marsh who walked with a limp and a stick and took 2nd form maths and
history; relatively normal with no special characteristics except
difficulty in hearing boys' names - 'Hardy?' - no Sir 'Harding
- ding'; thereafter known as 'Dinger'.
Pincher
Martin from Ireland (art and woodwork) who couldn't bring himself to give
less than 10 out of 10 for any piece of work, so awarded 11 and 12 out of
10 for anything remotely talented. Fairly free with
detentions, which were entered in pencil and had usually disappeared by
the time the detention register was taken back to its place in the
corridor; slightly embarrassing when he relented and sent for the
register so that he could delete an entry.
A
little French lady (can't remember her name) who looked round the door
and said "Are you ready for me boys?" and then went away when
she got the inevitable response.
She
was succeeded by a very glamourous Mrs Longworth, who left on becoming
pregnant amidst much wishful thinking among the more senior boys!
'Fluff'
Jewel (music) whose efforts to form a respectable choir were regularly
thwarted as our voices broke.
Miss
Harcourt (RI) who glared at anyone who called her 'Miss' until they added
her name; this was an open invitation to 'Snaky' Bedford to bait
her: 'Miss'; 'Miss Harcourt, Miss'; 'Miss Harcourt, Miss
Harcourt ....Miss' etc. She usually gave up first.
Later
we had Mr Howe for RI who had a ramshackle ? Austin 7 known to the boys
as Senacharib's Cylinder.
Dr
Braham (chemistry) best remembered for his more famous son , a Wing
Commander pilot who came to the school to tell us of his exploits in
battle.<
That
we survived all this was probably due to the efforts of the stalwarts who
were not called for military service - Bert Shaw, Thacker, Ron Garton
(I'm glad someone mentioned his frequent use of "Now this is the
point" as 'The Point' was one of his nicknames in our era).
Royds Jones ("The Wick" to our generation
which I always took to indicate a schoolboy corruption of the vicar).
And not forgetting Jim Shaddock (physics), who valiantly demonstrated
experiments which were usually wrecked when someone walked across the
shaky floor of "laboratory" in the temporary first world war
army hut; and Olly Johnson (Latin) - famous for being arrested by the
Italian authorities for "spying" when climbing in the Alps with
Martin Privett just before the war. Olly devoted much tlc to
the cricket pitches and regularly wanted boys to stay after school to
pull the mower while he steered; "c-c-c-can you mow,
boy?"
(the
irreverent ode to the staff at the time included for these two:
"A
little low-hung white-haired job called Jim,
who
- at the best of times - looked very grim;
"A
relic of the Carthaginian war;
"sh
- sh - shet up, you; D - D - Ditchburn, c - c- can you do some
more?"
-
can anyone remember any more of this?)
Finally,
a tribute to George Ashton, who managed to teach me enough maths to get a
respectable place in the open civil service competition. And
that's enough of these ramblings which, if at all, will only mean
anything to the geriatric OPs.
On
your latest e-mail about the Victor Ludorum, it was as I recall it, one
of the few trophies for individual performance (most were for House
teams) and with the 3,2,1 scoring system went to the real all round
athlete on Sports Day, not just those who were brilliant at one or two
events.
Best
wishes
Peter