A Boy's Life at Public School In the 1930s

by David Grey (14)

David with his uncle

For weekdays and classes, our clothing was very much more traditional schoolboy, with school caps, navy blazers, and grey short trousers. Only our knees had to suffer the ravages of the elements however, as we also sported long grey wool stocking, turned over at the coloured tops and held up with elastic garters. A school tie was compulsory at all times, as was the school cap outdoors, and to be caught without either was a punishable offence. As well as the basic two uniforms for school, I had pullovers and grey corduroy shorts for out of school activities, as well as outfits for gymnastics, rugger, and cricket. All boys were required to enrol in the school very own Boy Scout troop which, naturally, entailed a its own very special uniform. The hat made of felt and nicknamed a 'Lemon Squeezer' because of its shape was silly beyond belief. Later in my school career, when attaining senior status, I would also require an Army Corps uniform. Sadly, future events were to have a bearing on this and I never yet acquired a corps uniform. The most enjoyable aspect of all this uniform was the expression on my Uncle's face when he opened the monthly Bainbridge account. I thought he was going to burst a blood vessel!

At the start of term I was sent, incurring more huge expense, to school by taxi, such was the demands of my luggage. Almost all my uniform was neatly packed into a large black trunk which bore the inscriptions, "GREY, D.J." and "SCHOOL HOUSE." I was entering a new world. Although school discipline was notably strict, of far more concern to us new boys, or Termites as we were called, was bullying. Only it was not considered bullying by school authorities, merely, character formation. My own character was formed, firstly, by being allocated to the fagging list. This meant, that during what was supposed to be free periods, we heard the call "Fags!" we had to run at the double to the Prefects studies. Last junior to arrive was usually not only selected to perform some service, but also soundly beaten for being such a lazy laggard. "Royals," as our Prefects were termed, held the privilege of employing a cane on fags who did not come up to scratch. In my first week of term, I had received five beatings, four of which were at the hands of Quiller-Brown, Captain of SchoolHouse. He employed the demeaning method of placing his hand down your shorts waist band, lifting you onto tip toes, then delivering his strokes on tightly stretched trousers seat and bare legs. It hurt like hell, both your pride and your flesh. Bullying was rampant amongst almost all senior boys and not just Prefects. They of course had suffered likewise as junior boys and were not to be denied their turn inflicting misery. I was a tall, rather good looking chap and, as such a prime target for jealous bully boys. During my first term I was introduced to such torture as Knuckles, The Keys, Cock Fighting and, by far the worst Victoria Falls.

Unable to accept my diminutive junior status, I once too often cheeked some senior boys, who duly took it upon themselves to educate me. A vote was cast and the Victoria Falls treatment deemed the most suitable retribution. This entailed my being debagged, or trousers off to most people, as did most of senior school punishments. I was then frogged marched in my underpants to the boys toilets, upended, and my ankles secured to the flush cistern above a bog. Inverted my shoulders rested on the bog rim, with my head down the bowl. To many these actions still left unexplained the description Victoria Falls, but victims quickly became aware as the toilet chain was pulled and your head treated to a full flush. Usually, left so for an hour plus, it was the duty of any boy visiting the toilets to treat the miscreant to a flush. I was not popular and suffered over a dozen floods.

Not all school life was horrid of course and, as boys will, we had our own pleasant diversions. It was a pleasure to chew pieces of orange-peel in school, or withered tubers called 'tiger nuts' or even dried beans called 'locusts.' Games were not only seasonal, but came and went, like clothing fashions. In mid-summer 'cherry-orgs' was this years favourite; when ingenious boys made castle facades of cardboard. The object was for your pals to pitch dried cherry stones at the castle gates. Those who succeeded at this immensely skilful enterprise was paid out likewise; with dried cherry stones. Such was schoolboy currency! Autumn term and 'cherry orgs' gave way to 'conkers.' I was exceptionally skilful at 'conkers' and was the proud owner of a 'tenner.' (A tenner being a conker that had seen off ten other conkers.) During half-day holidays, some boys were privileged with owing a bicycle and spent wonderful afternoons whizzing through empty countryside. I went fishing with a stick and a bent pin. My Uncle had not recovered from the trauma of buying uniform and paled at the expense of a bicycle.

For all its mixed experiences, I came to enjoy school. Until, that is, the time I became so familiar with my environment, I became more and more disruptive. I was not wicked, simply mischievous, and suffered innumerable punishments. All boys feared the cane from a Master, but once over, you became a hero with fellow pupils. Recipients would spend their evening in the dorm, trousers down, display your proud 'lines' as if they were duelling scars. Onlookers' soft whistles of awe struck wonder usually accompanied viewing. However, the one battle honour all boys sought to avoid was a visit to the Headmaster. Serious wrongdoers were summoned to the corridor outside his study. They were required to face the wall with hands on heads, but most vital, was the position of your feet. On the wood tiled floor was a thick white chalk line. The toes of your shoes had to be on the white line. Not in front, not behind, but ON! Your were in other words required "to toe the line."

Unfortunate boys, who had committed serious acts of wrongdoing, were thus summoned after assembly each morning. Their names would be called out by the Headmaster, with tones reminiscent of a death knell. Until I had reached my fourteenth year of age, I had never experienced hearing my name called. But, because of my very nature, that could not be the case for too long. The day it happened was to change my life forever.