OLD BRACKLEIANS NEWSLETTER

AUTUMN 1999

From the President - Charles Teague

On 10th July I attended MCS Oxford Old Boys (Waynfletes) commemoration festivities in Oxford and in the evening, accompanied by the Master, attended the Old Waynfletes' Dinner. Thus two precedents were set as I don't think the President of the Old Brackleians has ever attended and certainly no lady has ever attended the dinner as MCS Oxford is, and intends to remain, an all male establishment. It was a most pleasant experience particularly when several Old Waynfletes remembered playing rugby and cricket against us when they were at school and seemed keen to carry on the traditions. I know Elaine took note of this and I'm sure the sports master will be getting a memo soon!
The School's 450th Celebrations this summer were a great success and were enjoyed by a number of Old Brackleians who attended. Tom Cliff, this year's Head Boy has suggested that the summer event should be held every year and the Society should participate…….. Any suggestions?
The Head Boy and Head Girl (Lindsey Sinclair) have been co-opted onto the Committee and we have a vacancy which we hope will be filled by one of the recent 6th form leavers. All of the existing committee are of the pre-comprehensive era (and some of us are pretty aged!) and we desperately need new blood to keep the Society vibrant and meeting the needs of the younger generations.
The Winter Reunion on 13th November features one major change in that we shall be lunching in the Waynflete Hall using caterers who have provided the food and bar service at various School functions. I personally can recommend them and hope to see you there and at the programme of events throughout the day. Last year's turnout was a record; let's see if we can beat this year.


From the Editor - Tim Hadfield

May I introduce the new Sub-editor, Sue Fisher, who is taking on the contact with the e-mail correspondents - she is also unpaid and lives somewhere in the States!
May I also thank all contributors. I'm not very good at acknowledging contributions when they come in unless they arrive by e-mail - the preferred route - or I can't read your writing. None the less, I am grateful and I still have a letter from Norman Philbey for next time. I seem to be getting more reminiscences than news of what you are doing now but you've got an eleven-pager again, so I must be getting plenty of material. I don't actually reject many contributions!

From the Sub-editor's Desk - Sue Fisher (Roylance, '76)

Well, since first e-mailing everyone on the OB's list in hopes of having people send back "news" for the newsletter, thinking I didn't know anyone on the list, I discovered that someone knew me, or at least of me. Mike Constable (66) used to live in Sulgrave and come over to Helmdon (where I lived) to attend the scouts (I think Sulgrave was probably too small to have its own branch of Scouts!) which at the time were held in the room above the bakehouse next to the village shop and Post Office which my Dad owned. Consequently, we have been e-mailing back and forth, catching up on news of people that lived in the village or went to the Brackley schools that we both knew. It's really wonderful to have the technology nowadays to get instant news while living so far away. I would love to hear from more people from my year and add their e-mail addresses to the newsletter list.
Mike Constable (66) wanted everyone to know that the Concert held in July in the Chapel was well worth the effort of going to and was very glad that he went. He has finally managed to complete his move to Long Buckby, and is slowly getting straight again. Due entirely to the efforts of our new Sub-editor, me, Mike went to a party in Helmdon recently which turned into a real Mini-Reunion of OBs. Some of those present were rather younger than Mike, but nearly all of the 30-plus guests had been to one of the Brackley Schools in the 60s and early 70s. It had been a very long time since some of this group had seen one another and a tremendous amount of gossip was exchanged in a very short time. Among those attending besides Mike were (sorry, I only know maiden names for the Ladies) Annette, Sue and Val Beech, Christine and Lesley Roylance, (my sisters) Fay Bentley, Janet ?, Chris Possinger, Philip Coy, etc., etc..............
Mike has also heard news of Alex Thompson who was on the School staff the 50s and 60s. Alex lives in Banbury and is still very active, cycling quite long distances most days, although his alpine climbing has been curtailed somewhat by a (non-climbing!) accident. He has been known to cycle to Helmdon with his wife to visit friends there.
Norman Blake is retiring from Sheffield University in September, although he tells me he will have "a little part-time job" for the next three years in De Montfort University, Leicester, where he will continue to work on a project he started some years ago on the Canterbury Tales. This doesn't sound like "a little part-time job" to me, more like a huge project! He is also writing about Shakespeare's language.
Phil Sugars - the current IT Co-ordinator at Magdalen College School runs the school's Website. The new web address - http://atschool.eduweb.co.uk/mcsbrak/default.htm. The next major update will be Christmas - when his new intake of VIth form students complete a "project" to up-date the website (Annual task).
For everyone's information, all mail sent to mcsbrak@rmplc.co.uk goes to Phil.
Here are other contact details for Phil Sugars:
Personal: pjs@extinction.force9.co.uk
Personal School: pjs@rmplc.co.uk
School Official: mcsbrak@rmplc.co.uk
Tricia Watson's touchbase1.demon.co.uk email will cease to exist in September. Please ensure all future e-mail is directed to her at work-patricia.watson@marshmc.com (most of you already have this address and use it regularly anyway)

Dates of Future Events

'Fraid I haven't got any at the moment!


Backpacking in China John Newman

I had great difficulty finding anyone to accompany me. After an advert in the local paper, I found a partner who agreed to come so long as it was a budget trip. So with a bargain flight, courtesy of Malaysian Airlines, we travelled to Hong Kong via Kuala Lumpur; 3 days in Hong Kong at £7 per night, then on to Shanghai, Beijing and Wusan.
We met a Chinese who wanted to speak English and who luckily had a girl friend whose family owned a budget hotel in Wusan and also knew the captain of a Yangtze steamer. We thought we would have to pay £300 for the river trip but got away with the Chinese fare of £55. The only problem was that the food, to us, was inedible - a bowl of rice twice a day in the morning once with bean curd and next with a handful of peanuts; the evening meal included two cabbage leaves. We stopped at six river ports, which were more than the Gin and Tonic steamers called at. Next stop was Changsha then on to Nanning, then to Viet Nam where we had a problem. I had put Hanoi on my exit visa because looking at the map it seemed to be right on the border. In fact Friendship Pass was the border. A couple of butch communist frontier guards sent us back 300 miles to have the visa changed. So we had a delightful train ride of 200 miles, costing £15, and then flew to Hanoi for £30. After 2 days in Hanoi we travelled through Viet Nam to Ho Chi Minh City - a very beautiful country. Not bad for a 75 year old. This year I already have 15 pages of red-hot information from the Internet for my next trip


The Chapel Crosses - Part III

295 145 Pte Archibald Harry Aldous
2/4 London Regt
Killed 20 Sep 1917

Archie Aldous was born in Brackley and was the son of Robert Everett and Selina Aldous of 8, Ellesmere Terrace. He enlisted originally into 15 London Regt (The Civil Service Rifles) in Northampton. His service no. then was 7107 changing to 295145 when he crossed to 4 (City of London) Bn., The London Regt (Royal Fusiliers) a territorial unit. He was serving with C Coy 2 Bn. (Royal Fusiliers) when he was killed in action during the 3rd Battle of Ypres at the age of 28.
At the time the Regiment was part of the 173rd Bde. of the British 58th Div and was situated just north east of Ypres. On 19 Sep 1917 the 2/4 Londons occupied positions near the village of St Julien in a line some 800 yds long which ran from Janet Farm to Springfield. C. Coy (led by Capt Hewlett) and 2 platoons of D Coy were positioned on the left of the line. The Regiment's objective was to push south-east and advance to about 100 yds beyond Winnipeg, capturing a machine gun nest at Schuler Farm in the process.
The assembly for the attack proved exceedingly difficult due to the heavy state of the ground. The Hanebeek River runs through this area and its banks had probably been burst by artillery fire, thereby waterlogging the ground. Indeed the mud was so bad that the soldiers constantly sank to their knees in some cases; touch could only be maintained by tying the men of each section together with tapes. However, the 4 Coys. of 2/4 Londons, numbering 400 men were in position by 0300 hrs on 20 Sep. The forward-most platoons were within 150 yds of the German positions. The assault was launched at 0540.


Banbury Bus Dinner 1998 - Ken Williams

In 1998 the Banbury Bus dinner was held at the Cornwall Lodge Hotel and was a great success with many friendships renewed. Although 30+ people had hoped to attend 23 sat down to an excellent dinner and time passed really too quickly. We were pleased to welcome the present Master - Elaine Wotherspoon - and her husband together with our President, Charles Teague and his charming wife, Jean. Those attending were: Ian Adkins, Ross Adkins, John Stroud, Paul Moore, John Truss, Tony Kilpack, Barry Tustian, Ken Williams, Maurice Humphris, Ken Lord, John Jennings, Eric Smith, Lance Bradnay, Sheila Hall (Newlands), Betty Brook (Stroud), Sheila Bennett (Page), Nancy Barrett (Lord) and Kay Smith.
Sheila Newlands' husband took some photographs of the evening whilst some old group photos of both MCS and BHS brought back memories and surprises. Don't forget to bring yours this year.
This year's dinner will be held at Banbury House Hotel on 12th Nov and the cost is £16 per head, during the planning of which I met Gill Woodcock (now Austin). If you travelled on the Banbury bus then please join us - others are welcome! Please contact me at 57, Cole Lane, Ivybridge, Devon PL21 0PN, tel. 01 752 690 848


The War Years - Anthony Cooper ('49)

I arrived at the School as a new boy in February 1940. I was barely 8½ years old and was destined to stay for nearly 9½ years. My arrival in a chauffeur driven Rolls Royce made a lasting impression. It could not have occurred to me to mention that it was a taxi hired from Banbury, where my mother and I were living.
Like many children of my age I had just been through a series of traumatic events. Brought up in north-west London I had been attending a good class preparatory school. As my parents assumed that London would be an immediate target for German bombers my father moved my mother and myself to her sister's place in Woodford Halse where I was put into the local Church School. When it was clear that the war would not be "over by Christmas" my mother took a job with Barclays Bank in Banbury and it was decided to settle me in a more appropriate local school. It was a big transition from preparing for Common Entrance to starting again in the First Form at MCS.
After Dunkirk Brackley became an armed camp and the school was prepared to withstand a bombardment. Dugouts were built on the top edge of the upper playing field and the Junior Common Room was converted into a "Refuge Room" by building large boxes of earth or sand against the windows. In the summer, an Australian battery camped with their guns under the trees outside the School. After we were supposed to be in bed we hurled slippers at them from our dormitory and they returned the fire! Posters were put up in the newspaper shop showing what German gliders and parachutists looked like.
As the ringing of bells was prohibited an old steel plough wheel was substituted. This was "rung" by hitting it with an old file - very painful to the hands. The wheel was kept on the coping of the dwarf wall by the steps at the back of the School, opposite the entrance to the Masters' Lawn.
In the Winter of 1940/41 we spent night after night under the big table in the Masters' Common Room listening to German bombers throbbing their way to Coventry and Birmingham whilst Mr Bolton read Masterman's "Midshipman Easy" to us.
The First Form was run by Miss Johnston, a very able teacher who lived in one of the cottages in the Buckingham Road, just behind the old Master's Lodgings. We all joined the Wolf Cubs. I was a member for nearly four years. In the end I was thrown out of the pack. I had not earned a single star or badge!
Some of the senior boys were members of the Air Defence Cadets, run by Mr Barraclough. I remember them marching around with leather bandoliers and puttees. That activity packed up. The school then formed a contingent of the Army Cadet Force under Arthur Bolton, the Master, who had served in the First War. They seemed to spend all their time on the Upper Playground performing the intricate gyrations of Battle Drill, a parade ground exercise designed to inculcate the rudiments of fire and movement. [He was an extremely smart and severe CSM in his latter years - Ed.]
Speech Days were held in the Town Hall. They were enlivened by the presence on the platform of old Mrs Cartwright, one of the Governors. She was profoundly deaf but insisted on punctuating the proceedings with ear splitting "Hear Hears", delivered at random without reference to what was being said.
After Miss Johnston, the standard of teaching went rapidly down hill. Nearly all of the qualified teachers went off to the war. Fortunately we had Mr E.N.Jones ("E.N.") who was spared call-up by being lame and Walter Johnson who, despite being as Fit as a Fiddle was rejected for military service for having a slow pulse! Some of the other members of staff were, to my young eyes, quite grotesque. There was Mr Finch, a tall man with knobbly knees and a pronounced Adam's Apple, who caused great mirth in the Masters' Common Room by spending half a morning drawing up an elaborate chart in coloured inks headed "Things to Do Immediately"! How do I know he had knobbly knees? He ran the Scout Troop. There was poor Miss Morgan. She was given Form IIIb to look after, all 35 of us! Her classes were barely controlled riots. The Rev Fernihough was a local parson who suffered badly from asthma. He was supposed to teach us English but did little more than make us read out loud in turn some of Scott's Waverley Novels (I have loathed them ever since). Dr Landau was an Austrian Jewish refugee who spent about a year trying to teach Maths. His classes were riots. I was one of the few who managed to pay attention. He showed me how algebra could be expressed graphically, for which I will always be grateful. I believe he went on to become Professor of Mathematics at University College, London. Then there was Mademoiselle Audio who was supposed to teach us French. She could not control a class either and was always threatening to "Fetch 'im" (Mr Bolton) to bring retribution upon us but never doing so.
The food at the School was memorable. I was duly caned for recoiling from the rabbit stew which, to me, looked as the whole rabbit, entrails and all, had been thrown in it. There was frogspawn soup and a soup which seemed to have a layer of old hay at the bottom. On alternate Saturdays we were given "Buffalo", a thoroughly disgusting concoction officially designated Cold Meat Roll. It seemed to consist of minced up leavings from the week which had been rolled in the fine gravel of the Upper Playground. I will leave "War Egg" to the imagination of the reader.……[A small prize will be offered for the best attempt to reproduce the recipe for Ma B's War Egg - Ed.] I think we existed mainly on bread, either neat or cooked in a thick burnt skin as sausages.
There was no physical training to speak of. Team games were the order of the day, plus using the swimming pool. I believe that this might have spared most of us from the polio epidemic which swept through the country in the late 1940s. There was no petrol for the mower, so the cricket square was kept mown by using rabbits in a portable run!
The school had about 200 boys at the time, of which about 70 were boarders. There was a serious lack of classroom space. One class was held in the Cricket Pavilion and another in the old gym/carpentry shop. There were two dormitories in the Master's Lodgings.
Miss McIlwaine, the Matron, was excellent. I agree with James Odell's description of her. She had been an army nurse, a QARANC sister, and had served in Salonika during the First War. She used to put the men's noses out of joint on Armistice (Remembrance) Day by wearing more medals than anyone else. Her punishment for the small boarders was the "Black Hole", a dark cupboard in which we were shut. Like others I went to see her during my National Service. It must have stirred sad memories in her to see us resplendent in service dress with Sam Browne belts. She would have remembered too many young men who never came back……..Incidentally, who remembers the fact that all the boarders had their throats sprayed with disinfectant every morning?
Quite apart from "Digging for Victory" we had to do our share of the domestic chores, such as polishing the wood block floors and stoking the boilers. Towards the end of the war we picked potatoes in the fields for which we were paid 6d (2 1/2p) per hour in National Savings stamps.
Three factors saved my school education from being a complete fiasco. One was the fact that about a third of the boys left school at 14, bringing the School Certificate class down to manageable size. Another was the ending of the war which brought back the qualified teachers, like Keith Heslop, Alan Churchfield, Eric Forrester and Freddie Grunder. Finally, I believe that the examiners were kind to us.
I must pay tribute to the Master, Arthur Bolton. It must have been a great strain keeping the school running during those years. He was, I believe, a sincere man who found it difficult to get through to young people. It is sad that I sat through over 9 years of his sermons and cannot remember a word of any of them.


A BHS Boarder's Story - Gloria Badham (was Britten, '45 - '52)

I was very interested to read the "Reminiscences of a Boarder" in the Summer Newsletter as I was also a termly boarder at Brackley High School for Girls at the same time. So, lots of memories came flooding back. James Odell mentions the shops - Holton's and Plumb's and there was Patterson's the Chemist in the square but it has been demolished and now the area is given over to the car.
A typical day for a boarder started at 7 am. Before breakfast we had to clean shoes and those of us who were learning the piano had to do twenty minutes practice. Over to school just before 9 am, but lessons proper started, I think, about 9.30 to allow for girls coming from outlying areas by bus and train (2 stations then - "top" and the Buckingham/Banbury line down the hill on the Oxford Road). Morning break with a third of a pint of milk and a sticky bun.[In Harpenden, our next door neighbour's father, Mr Gingell, started a milk producers' co-operative and a school free milk service before it was taken up nationally in the 20s. - Not a lot of people know that. - Ed.] Lunch was two sittings in the canteen at the boarding house. If you took cookery it was at the Secondary Modern School. Hockey was right at the top of Halse Road, but by the time everyone had dragged themselves up there we had barely thirty minutes to play. Tennis was at various courts around the town and swimming was at the Town pool. Like Magdalen's, the water was a strange greenish colour and you never saw the bottom but it was where I learned to swim and gain my colours.
After tea we had prayers (10 minutes) and then homework in the dining room. You were not allowed to sit at the same table as anyone in your form and if homework set was due to take 1 and a half hours you had to stay the full time even if you had finished early. Learning work - i.e. Shakespeare or poetry had to be word perfect. At 6.45 pm we tried to take it in turns to catch up on Dick Barton - the odd few minutes were added together but we never seemed to make a complete episode. Medicines before bed, a disgusting gargle, Scotts Emulsion, liquid paraffin, inhaling Friars balsam under a towel, but I loved Radio Malt and Virol.
In the spring, two years in three, we performed school plays under the superb direction of Miss Harris, the English teacher. I remember "She Stoops to Conquer", "Romeo & Juliet", "Macbeth" and "The Boy with a Cart". The boys from Magdalen came to the Thursday afternoon performance. Miss Harris was a wonderful teacher and I have always loved the great poets as a result of her work.
There were about eight termly boarders and the weekend followed the same routine. Hairwash and homework Friday evenings, hockey and tennis matches on Saturday morning - I was a poor traveller and dreaded the away fixtures. Saturday pm more homework, Sunday morning Chapel and letter wring and a walk or a cycle ride in the afternoon. Sometimes, by very clever note passing via a BHS girl to her Magdalen brother, we arranged to meet some of the boys - what risks we took! In the summer, on Sunday afternoons, weather permitting, we cycled to Whitfield to a farm where they had a small swimming pool and a tennis court. We took treacle sandwiches stored in a tin, so if the weather was hot it was like eating honeycomb.
When you reached the Vth and VIth forms we were allowed to study in the library. I remember once after it was dark we went through the copse (now lost to progress) along the railway line to the back of Magdalen's playing fields where we met up with some of the boys. One boy proceeded to demonstrate how he had converted a try during the Rugby match that day. Bear in mind that it was pitch dark so we couldn't see him but his faint voice gave us all the exciting details.
Does anyone remember the winter of 47? Deep snow and the schools closed. We boarders had to wait a few days until travel arrangements could be made, but, in the meantime, we thoroughly enjoyed tramping around the town ending up at the bottom station where a train was stuck fast. We did a little digging until we realised it was a lost cause, but we lived on the story of how we helped free the train for a long time.
Now I had better come clean on the Chapel tower incident. About midnight three of us crept out of the boarding house via the front stairs (normally out of bounds) up the back road and up to the boys' Chapel. There we met up with three boys who let us in. Once again all this took place in the pitch dark. One boy fumbled his way to the lectern and proceeded to give a short sermon and then very daringly decided to climb up the tower. It was a beautiful clear starry night so we didn't dare make a sound, as it would have carried across the town. Fortunately we made it back safely without being spotted, otherwise it would certainly have been expulsion for us. We thought we had been very bold but with hindsight it was all rather foolish, I suppose. [There's still a certain amount of coyness about who was actually there and then there's the matter of who decorated Keith French's exercise book - Ed.]

From Council House to Buckingham Palace - David Reeves MBE ('51 - '56)

For me, the first 6 months were the most traumatic of my whole life, and as a result, many of my own quirks relate right back to my days as a member of the "Sicut Lilium" brigade. I was very moved as I watched the video, to see myself crossing the road to the School, after alighting from the Banbury Bus. I could smell those fresh buns that always made my mouth water at break. My recollections send names rolling round my head, like ghostly echoes. Names of masters like, Daddy Green, Presswell, Jonesy the woodwork master, who took years off everyone's lives by hurling a chisel into the bench beside you, if you cut a splinter wrongly. Or the sight of Daddy Green bouncing down the path towards us in the Pavilion, his books under his arm, and his black cloak flowing behind him. My stomach turned so many times, as I knew my previous effort at homework was now about to hit me! He was a very severe figure of a man who terrified the whole class into getting results. But his terror was minimal compared with the Master!
How well I remember those lonely, frightening, stomach-churning minutes outside that little stone arched doorway, waiting for those bellowing tones to be called into his office. For me, most of my visits were for corporal punishment, although I always gave it a field promotion, to major punishment. Mr Forrester would sit in front of twin cupboard doors. These doors were to reprobates like me, a tool chest for torture instruments. When he turned and opened the doors, there, arranged in a fan shape like some golfer's clubs, were his canes. He would run his hands across them slowly, selecting, testing by bending them and letting them snap back, until finally deciding on the menu of the day. By this time, my heart was in overload, and my stomach was ready to perform an evacuation drill. He would then make me stand behind a chair and lean right across to reach the lower rail at the front. With my face screwed up in anticipation, I waited for that first sickening swish! Yes, I have forgiven him, but never forgotten!
As a council-house boy, whose father was a village policeman, and mother a teacher, I had a very handicapped introduction to Magdalen College School. I had, 6 months previously, gained a scholarship to Kettering Grammar School, and loved it. But then, my father was transferred to Middleton Cheney, and I was destined to be sent to the School, to a class that had already been together for 6 months. My first day was a nightmare, as I was taken into that 1st form room that looked out onto the main road. Its dark, slabbed floor seemed to echo something out of Dickens, and the smell of wax polish, and the dark wood surrounds seemed so alien to me.
As the years progressed, I made many friends, and I wonder if there are any who remember me? Penfold, Mike Cannon, my great friend who lived in Overthorpe on his dad's farm - we fought so many battles together - Hairy Jones, Walt Shilitoe, David Spinks from the Childrens Home at Evenley. And many more faces I just can't put names to, all come flooding back to me as I write. I do have many happy memories of the School, and I do understand just how much I was to blame for my notorious reputation. I remember prefects, like Morgan, the Head Prefect. To us mere mortals, he was an icon, that was, until he whacked me with his weighted slipper in the prefect's office! And Buster Allen, the champion of the school rugby team, who later went to Sandhurst, and entered the hall of fame in my world of memories. I also remember Micky Wilkes with great pride. He lived opposite me and was a prefect when I first started at the School. He left and went to Cranwell, to train as a fighter pilot. He was up there with Dan Dare for me, and I remember crying openly when I learned that he had died when his Martin CF100 Shooting Star had disintegrated in the skies over Canada.
It was always difficult for me, with my poor family background, to hold my own with my classmates. My clothes were always from the cheapest places, by necessity, and the sleeves on my jackets were never able to keep up with my constant elongation. As for my trousers, they had no chance, as nature seemed to pump up my legs like a hydraulic ram. When open days came, I felt ashamed of my parents, and I bitterly regret saying this because they struggled so hard to give us children the best education possible. My dad would stand there in his police blue shirt, with a coloured tie, and my mum would stand beside him in open-toed sandals, and an old blouse. It meant nothing to the masters I know, but for me, and others like me, it was a handicap that at times was almost too hard to bear. I know that quite a few of my old classmates will remember me for the wrong reasons, like trying to alter the shape of their faces without anaesthetic. To those whom I donated my attentions I apologise, and only hope that having read my memoirs, they can forgive me.
Finally, I remember vividly, a sequence of events that culminated in a complete farce of a school sports day on Saturday morning. Deep down in the annals of the shower basement, we were all engaged in messing about and having a great time. Daddy Green was our overseer, and would keep emerging now and again from out of the thick pea soup created by volumes of steam flowing freely around the concrete floor. For reasons known only to my impulsive brain, I decided to take the proceedings one stage further, and I took a waste paper basket full of paper, into the shower room, and lit it. Briefly, it seemed funny to hear the laughter slowly change to coughing, as the acrid smoke filtered through the whole basement. After evacuating, Daddy Green re-entered and emerged with the said waste paper bin. I will never know to this day why his gaze rested on me, but it did. Some few moments later, I was outside those torturous little doors of the Master's study, and was shaking from head to toe, as I heard Daddy Green bellowing about my escapade. My punishment lived up to my expectations, and I cried in solitude until my heart was broken. Some time later, I, along with Mike Cannon, was selected to run in the house mile. I saw this as an opportunity to retaliate. Having run only two laps, and being well in the lead, I decided to give two fingers to the establishment and ran straight off the field and into the changing rooms without completing the race. As we sat on the bus going home, we laughed excitedly at our bold adventure. Needless to say, on Monday we were not laughing, and this had everything to do with another visit to the Master's office.
I know that when my last day came, I was summoned to Mr. Forester's office, and expected to receive a final beating for old time's sake. Instead the Master stood up as I went in, and held out his hand. I didn't know whether I should hit it or shake it - I did the latter. He said "Thank God that this is the last time I will see a Reeves at this school!" Unfortunately, he was obviously not aware at the time that my brother Mike was to attend at the start of the next term. Sorry Sir, I guess you could say we won in the end!
My schooling must have had some bearing on my life since then, because eventually I ended up after 27 years as an operational fire-fighter, and a Senior Officer, being summoned to Buckingham Palace by Her Majesty the Queen. As I stood in front of her, my mind drifted back to Magdalen College, and I wondered just what the masters would have said if they had watched her pin the MBE on my proud, proud chest!


Following In Father's Footsteps - Eddie Palmer

As one of the characters from "The Vicar of Dibley" might have said when asked if he was going into the Church: "No, no, no, no, no, yes". These were my replies too, over the years, with the "yes" coming in 1996 as I approached 65. What happened then? Well, it all moved rather quickly. After a series of interviews and numerous confidential letters it was decided that I should join the East Anglian Ministerial Training Course (EAMTC) for one year before being ordained deacon in Peterborough Cathedral in July 1997, providing I managed to perform well enough on the course. Success was by no means guaranteed. It turned out that I would have to write a dozen or so essays; a frightening thought for one so old who had never been much good at putting pen to paper - EGF knew this!
The EAMTC course usually lasts for three years for normal people. There are five or six weekends a year; a whole weeklong summer school; regular seminars each term and weekly or fortnightly tutorials with a local tutor. Many candidates are in full time employment, so they have to get all their work done in the evenings and at weekends; a real challenge and quite a strain on partners and family.
At any one time there are, I suppose, some seventy students at varying stages on the course; about half are female; ages range from late twenties to early fifties, with one or two oldies like me.
The five full-time staff are all different but all equally brilliant. They never say you are talking rubbish, but find something positive to get out of your incoherent mumblings. They are very encouraging and gradually confidence grows as you discover (again) how to work, think, find out and learn. The big shock at the start is discovering how little you know and how much there is to learn. Furthermore it is impressed on you that the learning never ends.
Everyone is encouraged to make full use of whatever talents they have. The Summer School at Ditchingham in Norfolk ends with a superb concert on the Saturday night. More of a pantomime I suppose, with staff and students letting their hair down, performing or just enjoying some amazing acts which even Dawn French and her parishioners would enjoy.
The final Sunday Service is in the lovely Ditchingham chapel. It is very moving, particularly for any who are leaving. The large windows are clear and look out on to fields. There are no pews just chairs arranged in horseshoe fashion. Everyone can see each other. The singing is good. A few tears are shed. It is not unlike leaving school for those who have enjoyed their schooldays.
The three-day Retreat before ordination is not as frightening as it sounds. There is plenty of rest, lots of fun and time for some quiet thought. Before being "priested" this year, we enjoyed watching Wimbledon, a Test Match and some World Cup football. Beckham even was mentioned in the sermon at the ordination service - for the goal he scored, not for being sent off.
Oh yes. I had to continue with my studies in my diaconate year. This was planned and not some sort of detention. I'm happy to report that, with the aid of Canon Peter Woodward, my tutor, I managed to get a few grade 'B's for my essays. A miracle!
Now I just have to do 'Potty' training for another year, and then I'll be too old to care. I should explain POT stands for "post ordination training". But potty suits me - knowing my nickname as a teacher.


NEWS

Julia Chandler ('85) - attended the Open Day on Saturday and thoroughly enjoyed it [Her compliments are to be passed on to those who organised it - Ed.]. Both concerts were enjoyable - the one in the Chapel brought back loads of memories - how many times has she sung Locus Iste from those choir stalls, she asks? It was quite strange to see the choir without Mr Palmer in charge though! The outdoor event was a revelation - it appears to be trendy now to play a brass instrument and the school band, jazz band and Blues Brothers were excellent. It also brought back lots of memories to wander round St John's site - she couldn't believe how much the library had changed - and expanded! The only shame was that so few teachers were there, and also so few of her contemporaries. It seemed the ideal opportunity to catch up with old friends - in fact she had stayed with Rachel Vincent (also '85) and they seemed to be the only two from their era.

Graham Hunt ('77) - wrote with a change of address, an e-mail address and some news. He has finally left London - master plan was to leave after 2 years, but it took 16!! Spent 6 years with Hoskyns then 10 years with a smaller software house, firstly in the City, then at Canary Wharf. They've now moved to the "country" for a slower pace, and the opportunity to spend more time with his wife and 4 daughters. Except that working for Vodafone, the pace isn't as slow as hoped! London was good, but the country's turning out well too.

Johnsons (Various) - It was good to see the Johnson family on School Celebration Day picnicking by Upper Westminster. Mrs Patti, Marcus ('64) and Vaughan ('65) were all there with their families but Ian was abroad and there was no sign of the girls. Patti's brother, George Gardiner ('32) is getting too frail to attend these events.

Derek May ('67) - wrote with a change of address - he, his wife Anne, daughter Janiene (6) and son Ross (4) have moved from Hook in Hants to Hartley Wintney - by luck they found this house. In retrospect they were very lucky. They now need to spend thousands of pounds and man-hours "doing it up". He asked for an e-mail address for David Upstone (65). David and he were big Pirate Radio freaks in the 60s - Derek had his transistor radio confiscated for playing Radio Caroline in games watching a rugby match. He is not sure if David is aware, but Caroline is transmitting again at weekends from 8.00am - 9.00pm Saturdays and Sundays on the Astra C satellite in audio channel 'B', on the back of Challenge TV. It is only available on analogue satellite. Also if anyone knows where the following are he would like to get in touch: Robert Southam - Cyril ('65), Paul Norman - Puggie ('65), Paul Franklin - Taff ('65) and there are about ten others, but he cannot recall their names at present -another e-mail, another day.

Mike Newby (?) - The following are all the details that he has regarding other school members. This information is a couple of years old, so he wants to start updating it. The only person that he has regular contact with is Pete Sarginson, from whom some of this was gleaned:
Stephen Taylor is a farmer, married with 2 children and lots of lambs!! - Wickleaze Farm, Bulkington, Devizes, Wilts. (01380 828 206)
Monty Cutass somewhere in Bristol.
Donald Lansberry - HSBC Hong Kong - A director, I believe!!
Christopher Mapp - Actuary with Laurentian Life PLC, Barnwood , Glos. 12, Laxton Drive, Kingswood, Wootton Under Edge, Glos GLI2 8SQ Tel: 01453521285.
Nicholas Oldham - News Editor, Lincolnshire Echo, married, no children. 100 Main Road, Washingborough, Lincoln LN4 lAY. Tel: Lincoln 793531.
Nicholas Dexter - Accountant with KPMG, married with 3 girls. Corner Cottage, 76 High Street, Royston, Herts. Roy Beaumont - Hill Samuel, Croydon.
Edward Tucknell - Agricultural Advisor, Australia.
Adam Cutass - 102 Redland Road, Redland, BRISTOL, BS6 6QU. Tel 01272 428638.
John Seymour lives in Long Buckby.
Peter Jones - Insurance, Sheffield - 8 Hurlingham Close, Ecclesall, Sheffield S11 9HD. Tel : 01742 351500
Eddie Gray - Buyer, General Foods, Banbury.
Patrick Goode - Farm Manager, somewhere in Kent.
Andrew Hall - Project Engineer, Smiths Industries (Aerospace), Cheltenham - 108 Toby Field Road, Bishops Cleeve, Cheltenham, Glos GL52 4PG. Tel: 01242674054 - married with 2 girls (10 & 7?)
Chris Humphris - running family undertakers and builders in Banbury. Married - 01295 263577, still there because I spoke to him 4 weeks ago.
Richard Maybury - running family coach business which is now based in Wimbledon, living in Dorking, married with 2 girls. 28, Punchbowl Lane, Dorking, RH5 4BW. Tel : 01306 880866
Stephen Walker - married with 1 boy, 10 Martins Lane, Hardingstone, Northampton. Tel 01604 674432
John Weaver - Frank, Jones & Harley, Giles St, Northampton.
Cliff Carter - Headhunting, Helmdon [I always thought Helmdon was a bit wild! - Ed.]
James Hewison - Thorpe Mandeville - Tel: 712343.
There are still more on his list but they are names only without any additional info.

Lost and Found

From Post Office returns we need to know the whereabouts of:

None this time


Published by: T J Hadfield, c/o Magdalen College School, Brackley, Northants,