Part 1:
My first recollections:
February 1949 My First Term:
The Fun Times
It was the last event of the day which was treated as a novelty event; it still accumulated points towards the house cup. The house captain whose name I don't remember, came across to me while I was lying down ready for the start, he said to me if you win this Eddington-Ross wins the whole of the athletics for the day. After the starting pistol went off I realized I was inside my sack before everyone else. When I looked back others in the race had really poor technique, they were attempting to run inside their sacks, the end result they kept falling over. Fortunately for me I was the sack race champion from my previous school and had some advanced training in the art of sack racing. Before I knew it I had gone the required distance and had won by quite some margin. In reflection I think I was so scared at the possibility of letting the entire house down that I simply did not dare to lose. It was an extremely proud moment for me; I think I may have been a hero, if not for a day perhaps during my own tea time!
Exeats:
We would each take it in turns to organize our exeats and invite each other along as guests, this in turn meant we would spend some 8 Sundays at home. It all came to a sudden halt when we were ordered to the Head Masters study, at that time it was Mr Guilford. Apparently one of the parents had felt enough was enough and reported the incident to Mr Guilford who withdrew the privilege. He was a very fair head master and allowed us the one final Sunday before the privilege was revoked.
Things That Remain Entrenched In My Memory: (Part 1)
The Geography master was sitting marking our exams, he looked up, read out one of the questions, "Define clouds," the answer he had in front of him "A kind of wet smoke", I swear it was not my answer! I read an essay written by Mitchell, the subject Strip Lighting, he started out stating that not only was strip lighting very useful and bright, you could purchase it by the inch, foot or yard.
I still remember quite vividly heading up to the A40 at 11pm to the road transport cafe for sausage egg and chips with another couple of the guys; I believe Tony Hanks was one of them. Not just once, at least twice. Occasionally I wake up in a cold sweat having dreamt about it. What an earth were we thinking; 16 year olds dressed in dungarees, wellington boots trying to look like long haulage truck drivers!!!
I remember a school play called "Ten Little Indians" my part in it was to sit in the wings and when a certain line came up, armed with an alarm clock, all I had to do was make it ring. Alwyn Hawkes had to say that's the phone. I rehearsed it for weeks and always got it right. On the all important day I must have got an attack of stage fright, I could not remember how to get the thing to work and totally blew the illusion. Alwyn was left high and dry making sounds like a rather over zealous purring cat. I was never asked to handle the props or sound effects again.
Part 2:
Tuck boxes would arrive at school with all manner of food to see us through a gruelling term. Anything from Heinz baked beans and spaghetti, an assortment of biscuits, nuts, condensed milk, Ovaltine, sweets in all manner and variety, eggs, cakes fruit and tined fruit. A particular favourite of mine was figs; remember the ones that came in a small wooden box. On occasion we'd have a dorm feast. After lights out, on would go the torches and the feast would begin. On one of these occasions my torch had given up on me, not to be deterred I managed to successfully open up my box of figs and ate at least three quarters of them. Being a bit of a hog I did not share a single fig with a single soul. I put them under the bed until the morning, retrieved them, sneaked them back down stairs and opened them up for another feast. To my absolute horror they were crawling with maggots. I can't be sure when they actually arrived in the box and I didn't really want to find out, even to this day. One thing that is for sure, I have never eaten and do not intend to eat another fig.
During a history lesson one of the members of class decided to embarrass the participating History Master by asking, "Sir during Elizabethan times what did they use for Durex". The extremely quick reply that came back was "I imagine they used a silk handkerchief, next question."
I was the class monitor when JHM was monitoring the noise over the intercom, he sounded furious after the second attempt of demanding that we keep the noise down. I decided in the best interest of the class was to-gather up as many text books as I could find and build a noise resistant wall around the intercom. A short while later I heard JHM bellowing across the court yard adjacent to our class room where his secretary's office was situated. Before I thought to do anything about the temporary noise barrier I had put up, JHM stormed in through the door and demanded that the culprit wait outside his study.
He was about as angry as I had ever experienced in the past. I may not have been too good at any number of things, but I always owned up when I had stepped out of line. After the customary thirty minute wait had passed, JHM arrived beckoned me inside and asked me what I wanted to see him about. I had plenty of time to rehearse exactly what I would say as some sort of lame defence, forgot it all and blurted out "I was the idiot that put the books around the intercom." I was asked why and explained, that "Sir had told us to be quiet a number of times and I was trying to keep the class out of trouble". Out came the cane, followed by 3 very gentle taps on each hand, JHM said, "Nothing ever gets past me and never tell anyone what just happened". I think it just might be OK to mention it 55 years on. One thing for sure I was an extremely relieved young boy who was not sure whether to laugh or cry as I left JHM's study that evening.
In 1953 I remember being on an exeat I had invited John Harris to join me. My Father picked us up in the Singer and drove us home to Coventry. It happened to co-inside with Bill Hayley And The Comets appearing live at the Gaumont Cinema. We took the number 9 bus to Broadgate, got to the Gaumont by foot and managed to push our way to the front. We stood there for several hours. We needn't have bothered as they went into the venue via a side door for fear of a crowd rush.
During a history lesson taken by Mr Guildford he asked the question, "Why did Charles the First loose his head". Several answers were given by the class, finally he said, "You're all wrong, it's because you can't chop your mama up in Massachusetts."
The Dinning Room and the kitchen:
I also remember another chef that must have had a somewhat warped sense of humour. Every Thursday or was it Friday, before JHM invested in a second-hand fish and chip fryer for Friday fish luncheons, he would serve us scrambled eggs at breakfast, prunes and custard for lunch and to top it off, baked beans on toast for tea. It is almost unimaginable what the result of this might be. At the time I was resident in the big dorm, by 9pm we had pretty much raised the roof, just as well we were on the first floor.
Before I started at KS I took a dislike for tea, something that remains with me to this day, since tea was the only beverage served at breakfast and tea time I drank water for the next nine and a half years.
The Goon Show:
The Sad Times:
Another thing I found as the years went past is that I felt my parents became more distant and seemed to become just people I spent my school holidays with. When I first left school in 1958 and went to The Birmingham School of Photography at Margaret St College of Art, the sort of things that would irritate me no end was being asked by Mother if my vest had been aired. All I could think of was nobody cared if my clothes got aired for the past 9 years, why in Hell should it matter now.
My first 2 terms were a nightmare, Maxwell Evans was about the same age as me, and he was a very confident person. For no reason that I can remember he took great delight in beating me up. This it seemed was on a daily basis. It was the beginning of the new school year, true to form Maxwell decided to have yet another go at me. Something inside of me must have finally snapped. As he had started his daily ritual I decide it was time to retaliate. All it took was one good punch and he went flying backwards over a tuck box and ended up on the floor the middle of the class room. Why had I not tried that before? Just as it happened, in walked a master who sent us both up to his room. When the master arrived Maxwell, before being asked what happened, said, "Sir it was all my fault, I started it". Unfortunately for me it did not account for much as we both got caned. Some good comes out of everything, Maxwell apologized again and again after the incident, better still we became good friends. Unfortunately he left KS a couple of terms later.
Another time and another caning, this time it was Mr Shrewsbury. At the end of the corridor on the way to the washroom was Mr S's room. We, well at least I, used to enjoy running down the corridor leaping up at the end of it and swinging on the overhead central heating pipes. It must have been going into Autumn, no one had told me that the heating had just been turned on, as usual I leapt skyward grabbed the overhead pipe, it was as hot as all Hell and naturally I let go of it. The end result was me crashing into Mr S's door in a somewhat crumpled mess. As luck would have it he was in. He asked me which night was bath night and told me to report immediately after. Mr S was a science master and apparently took a scientific approach to using the cane. He had deduced that after a hot bath ones buttocks were at their most vulnerable, so with nothing except a very thin pair of pyjamas between me and Mr S's cane, I got yet another six of the best.
Another punishment dealt out by Mr S was an early morning run; he would get us out of bed before the rising bell and send us out to run around the perimeter of the cricket oval, several times I might add. One good thing about this was he would give us coaching on long distance running. The bad thing was that he would leave the ground several minutes before we had finished our run. He would head for the bathroom, fill the baths up with cold water and make us get in and immerse ourselves for several minutes, God it was cold.
Around 1955, just before moving into the seniors I ended up with one of the biggest hauls of sports certificates ever awarded, 9 in all. I was ecstatic with my results; this also provided Eddington-Ross with house points towards the house cup. When it was my turn to receive my awards at the final assembly of the school year JHM read out my achievements, not one mention of my performances, he simply said "What a pity Haymes's academics do not match up to his sporting achievements". In retrospect I suppose he was right, never the less I felt devastated.
Part 3:
When it became my turn to read I managed quite well. Another reason I got caned was that I seemed to leave everything that belonged to me lying around the entire school, with many of my possessions ending up in lost property. JHM decided that since loosing my weekly pocket money to 'lost property' was not sufficient punishment to change my sloppy ways. He added an extra dimension to the monetary fine, a stroke of the cane for each item that wound up in lost property. It took several weeks to realize that I was now in serious trouble and I had to change. The final straw was when I had misplaced 11 items, the hand was to be used, I only received 7 stokes as the cane broke and there was no replacement. After that experience I got all my worldly possessions together put them in my locker with a very big lock on it, what would not fit ended up in my tuck box with another trusty lock on it. I can honestly say if nothing else I am a very tidy person and can't stand untidiness. I wonder why!
It was approaching 7pm, Mr Guilford had decided to give the first Eleven Cricket team some much needed coaching after prep. Keith Lewis, Brown and I took off a tad early. Mr Chadwick the duty Master had decided to check up on our class which was in the Stable Block. Noticing we were not in class he sent one of the boys down to the nets to summons us back to the class. Consulting our watches we decided it was now past seven and sent the messenger back to say we were attending cricket practice. Wrong decision, next moment Mr Chadwick appeared at the nets, I think it was fair to say he was out ragged at our refusal to return to class. We were told in no uncertain terms that immediately after tomorrow's lunch we were to wait at the foot of the stairs to his room.
Part of the caning ritual seemed to be the long wait before the deed was administered. Lewis was called up first; Brown and I were left waiting and counting, the mandatory magic number 6. Brown was next and adopted a, 'if I scream really loudly kind of approach, perhaps he will take pity on me and go lightly.' It didn't appear to work that well as I was able to hear the mandatory six over the screams. My turn next I tried something in the middle with the usual result, it hurt. I remember Mr C saying to me that he had waited for a long time to give me the cane! At our next science lesson I also remember Mr C commenting, that Lewis took his punishment like a man, I assume by that remark Brown and I failed miserably in the heroics stakes.
The thing I remember about punishment was the unfairness of it. We would often be given the School Hymn to write out, often several times by the next assembly, or X number of lines of copy book with extra lines if we failed to copy it at a very high standard. These were given out for varying indiscretions. Leaving a door open during winter, not turning out a light after leaving a room, getting caught wearing house shoes outside etc etc. Often these were given out en-mass, as often the culprit was not about to own up. What it entailed was writing franticly every spare moment you had, after breakfast, before tea, between lessons, after prep, just to get the punishment in on time.
Some of the People I Remember Most: There will be others!
John Coville: One day we were discussing Peter Russell an extremely bright and studious boy. John said of Peter "He likes to sit in a book and read a library". I used to love going out to visit his Fathers farm, his dad also kept race horses, River Head and Dark Stranger were 2 of them that I remember, quite successful as I recall.
Roger Davis: Nick-name 'Ubs', was my hero; an opening bat and sensational wicket keeper. How I wanted to bat and keep wicket for the school just like him.
Anthony Dawkes: His Mother I think owned a cafe at Bourton-on-the-Water, a favourite eatery when out on exeat; he had this infectious laugh.
Chris Edwards: Was a great full back for the school, he had a tremendous boot on him and had no problem clearing a ball off the goal line for almost the entire distance of the pitch. Another area Chris excelled in was cross country running. I was not that bad at it myself, but always ran second to him. One-inter house cross country run, I decided I was going to beat him; after all I was in Eddington-Ross and he in Grenfell-Lister. The course was from the front of the KS down to the Sherborne shop, turn right along the unsealed road up to the top playing fields, straight past to the road, turn right towards Bourton-on-the-Water, right at the cross roads and back to the front of the school via the drive way. At the start I took off at a cracking pace. When I had reached the driveway and looked around Chris was nowhere in sight, on down the drive almost to the cricket nets, I turned once more Chris was just coming into view, before I realized it he came hurtling along side me, I was running out of oxygen with just meters to go he came flying past me. Damn and blast I was second yet again.
Henry Forti: I believe he started in 1948, he was assigned to show me around KS and act as a mentor for the first few weeks.
John Hadley: Another Coventry boy who was a few years older than I, he used to look after me in my early years at KS. I was devastated when he left KS early, after is father died prematurely.
Harris John: I remember spending one summer holiday with John, his parents lived near Nottingham. It was a really hot and sunny summer and we spent a lot of time at a neighbour's swimming pool. On another occasion the situation was reversed and John spent time with me in Coventry. On that occasion we went by train to London to visit the Annual Radio Show with Howard Sutton's sister Vanessa and Dawn Kendall who became my girlfriend after that encounter.
Tony Hanks: We spent a number occasions on exeats. He would come to Coventry with me where we would hang out at the Earlsdon Lawn Tennis Club. Not so much for the tennis rather for the girls that played there. I gave up golf for tennis as I realized that as I drove off the 10th tee of the Hersal Golf Club, walked down the fairway, the tennis club was just next door, a lot of very cute girls played tennis not golf. I remember one Sunday after we had left KS Tony arrived in this rather sporty Nash Metropolitan complete with open roof, we headed down to the tennis club almost straight away. I often wonder whether it was me or the girls from the tennis club that he really came to see. The last time Tony and I caught up was at the Prescott Hill Climbs.
Henry Gardener: Arrived in 1949 just after me and left a few years later. He was from Czechoslovakia and told some amazing stories of escaping during World War 2 to England with his parents, the German Army in hot pursuit. I believe they settled in Canada.
Howard Matheson: Howard used to sit next to me in class. When the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth 2nd took place on June 2nd 1953, we were all allowed a few days off to return home. Since Scotland was considered to be too far to travel, boys were allowed to take a friend home with them. Howard Matheson was my choice of friend and off to Coventry we went. In my personal drawer at home Howard discovered an old starting pistol; he tried in vain to fire it with out success. After several attempts he put the pistol up to his eye there was this small hole in the barrel which he peered into to see what was wrong with it. There was an almighty bang in the breakfast room and a death curdling scream, Howard to all intense and purposes had shot him self. It's an absolute miracle that he wasn't blinded.
Roger Mead: He was my best friend's brother; they lived next door to us in Coventry. I used to keep an eye out for him.
Maurice Moss: Maurice and I went to Wales to attend an Outward Bound course. We went to the local fish and chip shop at Plasybryn, they had this extremely large menu, after analyzing it you realized there where actually only 3 things on it, fish, chips and peas. I also spent a very pleasant few weeks at his parents place at Nottingham one summer holiday.
David Mossman: The most courageous goal keeper KS ever had, I remember we were taking an absolute hammering, the score was up around 8 nil, David had stopped so many attempts at goal, it had nothing to do with his goal keeping it was our shocking defence, I was playing in the forwards and dropped back to help out with the onslaught, another shot at goal and out went my hand for a perfect save, just a reaction. As a penalty was awarded I apologized to David for my indiscretion, his reply "Don't worry about that just keep out as many goals as possible."
Jasbi Patel: Jasbi and his cousin started KS during the summer term of 1955. He was from Southern Rhodesia. During French class's he was told to do English revision as the year was almost over. At the end of the term he asked if he could sit the French exam as he had been listening in. For someone who had never studied French previously he blew us all away when he came second.
Robin Penrice: Was always very happy and loved to laugh and tells jokes an avid Goon Show fan.
Howard Read: His Father was Al Read the comedian; I remember in 1951 he won a Daily Mail award for most promising new show. Mr Chadwick tip toed into the dorm woke Howard up and allowed him to watch the presentation on TV. I remember going out one Saturday with his parents in their very large American car, it had a pendant on the front of the bonnet with the inscription "Right Monkey". Howard got a job doing Hotel management at the Hotel Leofric in Coventry; we went to Traditional Jazz clubs on his nights off for about a year or so.
Howard Sutton: Howard was one of the exeat crew before it all got outlawed. He had a fabulously good looking sister, Vanessa, at around 14 years of age I had a crush on her but was far to shy to tell her. I would catch up with Howard at his parent's private country club that they owned near Warwick. I left to live in Guernsey in the Early 60s and lost contact shortly after.
John Haymes 1949 | John Haymes 1953 | John Haymes 2008
Part 4:
Nurse B accompanied me to Cheltenham General when I had severe sinus trouble which resulted in a day operation. I had to go back on my own for a checkup some weeks later. After the check up I decided to go to the picture theatre. On arrival at the bus station to my absolute horror the next bus only went as far as North Leach. On arrival I was starting to panic when Reg from the dinning room came out of the local pub. On seeing me, he offered me into the taxi he had just ordered, saved by the bell.
When I arrived back Nurse B was about to send out a search party, she decided it was in everyones best interest not to mention it again. Thank you Nurse Boughton!
One other thing I remember about Nurse B, I think she married the then Geography master, I can't recall his name. I do remember being woken up one night in a dorm that was situated on the top floor, next to the staff bathroom, which in turn was situated next to the boys bathroom. The staff quarters were to the right. I heard Nurse B and the Geography Master whispering in the corridor. She was telling him that he had to go to his own room. I have never mentioned it before, I guess the teaching and nursing staff where only human after all!
The Geography Master could be the second on the right from Nurse B in the 1953
school photo.
Preface:
After re-reading these anecdotes over and over, I decided to turn this foot note into a preface. This is an attempt for those that feel so inclined to read this offering not to get the wrong impression. I was researching some stuff on the net for my up and coming 70th birthday next July, when I came across Conrad Roe's excellent site. The more I read the more engrossed I became. There were a number of painful memories; these are not what stuck in my memory the most. The further I progressed the more I realized that the friends I made, all the fun times that I had, started to kick start the old memory into top gear. These by far and away surpassed any negative thoughts that I experienced over the nine and a half years I spent at Kings School. I always promised myself that I would not send my three sons to boarding school, in reflection it might not have been such a bad idea. I think I must have been, no, I now realize I was a horror student and certainly hold no grudges for that period of my life. I have lived in Australia and Bali for the past 43 years and have always said my only regret with relocating to Australia at age 27, is that I had not been in a position to have done it 27 years earlier. I now realize that there was one more regret that I failed to stay in touch with the people that were my friends at Kings School.
It was the autumn of 1948 when I first heard about King School. I was shown a brochure by my Parents and was suitably impressed by its contents to want them to investigate further. At the time I was seven years of age and was naturally very impressionable at such a tender age. I think the archery on the main lawn and the opportunity to play school sport sucked me in. I actually don't remember there ever being archery during my time at KS. We arrived at the school in the afternoon and were met by Stan the janitor who ushered via the great hall and past the billiard and snooker tables to the Head Masters study. This was to be my first encounter with James H Mosey and his wife Kate. I don't remember too much about the day except being shown around the school and seeing for the first time the extraordinary wonderful grounds. The Nissan scout hut, the woodwork room, the near completed swimming pool, the cricket ground and sports ground at the top field. I do remember JHM asking me if I would like to become a pupil of KS. I was in such awe of what I had just seen I could not get the words "Yes please Sir", out quickly enough.
On arrival for my first term Henry Forti was to be my guide and mentor for the next few weeks. When it was time for my parents to leave I was so excited about my new surroundings I had forgotten they were still there. They had to send someone to find me so I could say goodbye to them. My first class consisted of some 12 pupils; our class master was Mr Peter Pfaff, an old boy of Kingsholme School. He was a wonderful teacher and extremely well respected by everyone that came into contact with him. I could not wait for English Literature classes to come around as he was one of the best story readers that I had ever come across. Armed with so many different character voices in his armoury we would become totally immersed in his every word while reading Captain Hornblower to us. The boys in this class ranged from 7 to 12 years of age, and had vastly different standards of education. This is where I first came into contact with Maxwell Evans who later became a good friend after a very indifferent beginning.
I always enjoyed school sport; bring on Wednesday and Saturday afternoons. That's when we would play inter-school fixtures. At one stage I remember mandatory sport after lunch every day except Sunday. Being perhaps the worst academic to attend KS, at least I had a wonderful refuge for all my failings in the class room. One sporting achievement that has remained with me all of my life was the sack race during the 1949 exhibition / sports weekend.
The excitement of having a day away from KS could not come around quickly enough. It was always something to look forward to. The Cardona Cafe in Cheltenham was a favourite, sausage, egg and chips and a 'knickerbocker glory' was always high on the agenda. There was certain amount of abuse with Sunday exeats. There were a number of boys from Coventry, Robin Penrice, Howard Sutton, Roger Mead and myself. We had it all sewn up for several terms, situated 47 miles exactly from my parents' front gate to the parking area in front of The Great Hall.
The first time I came across Anthony " Horace" Hanks, that was his nick name at the time. He did not particularly like it and it was subsequently dropped. He was a particularly big fellow, not surprisingly, did we go on with it after he requested it. We played football against a near by Junior School, Tony was their centre forward and I the KS under 14s goal keeper. I saved a difficult shot at goal, standing there ball in hand feeling quite full of myself some 10 meters out from the goal posts, the next thing I remember I was sprawled in the back of the net. A goal was awarded to Tony; I was told later it was a mere shoulder charge. Tony Hanks was a gentle giant as a 14 year old, perhaps not so gentle on the football field, I can testify to that. After Tony joined KS we became good friends, he would spend Sunday exeats with me in Coventry, and I would enjoy Sundays at his Parents farm at Lower or was it Upper Slaughter.
Things That Remain Entrenched In My Memory:
One of my claims to fame was the day Robin Penrice and I made it onto the front cover of Motor Magazine. The photo shoot took place at Robins parents house, his Father worked in the public relations department for the Standard Triumph Company. The Company was releasing a new model Standard Eight on to the market, the ad idea was to have a couple of boarding school boys returning to school after the holidays. The caption read "you can get everything into the boot and more."
Dining was a whole new experience. One thing I remember if you ate with your mouth open you received a very swift kick under the table, needless to say one learnt to eat with ones mouth closed very quickly. In the early days we had a Polish chef, perhaps he was a cook. He used to, as was I believe the norm in Poland, add vinegar to the boiled cabbage. Boiled school cabbage is frightful at the best of times add vinegar to it and it becomes pretty much uneatable. On one occasion the entire school decided that enough was enough and decided to rebel by refusing to eat the midday lunch. This incensed JHM, Stan was ordered to leave the plates on the table after lunch and we would have it served up for high tea that afternoon.
What would we have done with out it, Sunday afternoon after lunch, followed by the repeat at 7pm on Tuesday night. Sitting in the dark during the Winter months, all huddled up in the warmest place at KS, the changing rooms situated above the boiler room. All those wonderful characters, Blue Bottle, Neddy Sea-goon, Major Blood-knock, Mini Banister. We would spend hours wandering the corridors doing our impersonations; Robin Penrice did the perfect Eccles, "I've fallen in da water". I sometimes think that if it hadn't been for the Goons I might not have kept my sanity, as if that makes any sense. (A very close friend of mine married Spikes daughter Laura, they live half a kilometre away, I am proud to say she is a good friend, talk about a chip off the old block, she now writes children's books.)
Returning from the holidays for me was an extremely miserable time. The first day back at school catching up with friends after the holidays was always the exception. I never ever came to grips with the first few weeks of mornings to a new term, Stan would ring the school bell at 7am and I would have to think were an earth am I. Then the realization, "Oh no I'm back at school."
Punishment:
Who could not remember the punishments. My first encounter was during my first term. A group of us were playing table tennis in the play room. come tuck box room. Ruggles and I managed to hoist ourselves up onto the large stone fire place to sit and watch. In walks JHM, asks us what on earth we think we were doing sitting on a mantle piece and we're told to wait outside the study. We were ushered inside after the mandatory 30 or so minute wait. I was asked if I would do such a thing at home. I replied "Yes Sir my Father on occasion had sat me on the breakfast room fire place at home". I think JHM took an instant dislike to me from then on. Both Ruggles and I got 6 of the best. I seem to get caned from that point on with amazing regularity. I was not good at reading, so when JHM took us for reading he would cane me for poor performance. I managed to beat him at that; I was so scared when he took us for reading class that I believe that part of my problem was just that. However I managed to read ahead in class and memorize what was coming up.
Peter Andrews: Son of Bob Andrews the comedian, his Dad was very busy doing shows all over the UK. We became good friends; I used to invite him out on exeats with me because his Father was unable to. At the end of one summer term Peter arranged tickets for us at the Coventry Hippodrome where his dad was playing. After the performance we went back stage to meet Bob and for me to give him a letter from Peter.
I remember Nurse Boughton well, she looked after me when I had an extremely bad
stomach ache one summers day. I arrived at the sick bay mid morning and was admitted right away. I failed to eat lunch, by tea time Nurse B decided I needed to eat, since we having fish for high tea (it's meant to be good for such ailments), she forced me to eat it. Around about 8pm Dr Dorling (I think that was his name) from Bourton on the Water came to see me and immediately phoned for an ambulance to take me to Cheltenham General Hospital. Just as well as it turned out that I had a perforated appendix. It happened near the begining of the term and I had to convalesce at home for the next 8 weeks, returning to school just before the exhibition weekend. Unfortunately sport being my thing I was unable to compete.