��������������� ����Susannah Schofield
An account of Alleyn’s School in the 1940s compiled by the spoken and written memories of Alleyn
Old Boys, former staff and Archive material
1
Alleyn’s in the 1940s
Contents
Introduction............................................................................................................................................. 4
Second World War .................................................................................................................................. 8
Evacuation: Operation ‘Pied Piper’ ....................................................................................................... 25
Exile in Rossall ....................................................................................................................................... 34
The South London Emergency Secondary School: a strange child of the war ..................................... 46
‘Their own devices’ ................................................................................................................................ 54
Headmasters at Alleyn’s ........................................................................................................................ 65
Masters and mistresses at Alleyn’s ....................................................................................................... 74
Discipline and prefects .......................................................................................................................... 88
The House system ................................................................................................................................. 95
Curriculum ............................................................................................................................................. 99
Drama .................................................................................................................................................. 105
Musical wonderland ............................................................................................................................ 108
Sport .................................................................................................................................................... 119
The cadet forces and the Home Guard ............................................................................................... 126
Privilege at Alleyn’s ............................................................................................................................. 136
Post-war Alleyn’s: let us face the future ............................................................................................. 141
Education crisis at Alleyn’s .................................................................................................................. 149
Distinguished boys and visitors ........................................................................................................... 155
After Alleyn’s ....................................................................................................................................... 165
Impressions of Alleyn’s today.............................................................................................................. 169
Reflections on time spent at Alleyn’s .................................................................................................. 172
Bibliography......................................................................................................................................... 174
Acknowledgements ............................................................................................................................. 176
Index .................................................................................................................................................... 178
Appendix
• Contributors to 1940s memories project
• Letter from Henderson about Christmas arrangements, December 1939
• Letter from Spring re: Junior School at St Clare School, Walmer, December 1939
2
• Letter from LCC to parents re: plans for children on evacuation scheme, December 1939
• Letter from Allison re: welfare of Alleyn’s School, 2 September 1940
• Letter to parents about the move to Rossall, 17 October 1940
• Sunday Times article about Alleyn’s evacuation to Rossall School, 20 April, 1941
• Rossall timetable – see separate scan on website
• ARP letters about bomb damage, July 1944 – see separate scan on website
• Map of Camberwell showing flying bomb sites – see separate scan on website
• School journals – see separate scan on website
• ‘Escape’, Edward Alleyn Magazine, February 1946 – see separate scan on website
• George VI’s message about the victory to children, 8 June 1946
• Names of guests in group photograph on front cover
Notes to text
In quotes, I have tried to retain punctuation as shown in original.
The ‘magazine’ refers to the Edward Alleyn Magazine.
Michael King is the pen-name of John Holt (S 1945-51), who wrote The 1940s Revisited. In the copy, I have
referred to Mr Holt by this name.
Where there are AOBs’ names in the footnotes, this relates to what they said either at the reunion or wrote to
me subsequently.
House abbreviations:
• Brading’s = B
• Brown’s = Bn
• Cribb’s = C
• Dutton’s = D
• Roper’s = R
• Spurgeon’s = S
• Tulley’s = T
• Tyson’s = Tn
3
Prelude to a reunion
John Hughes: What is also interesting is that you sit around like…
Derek Smith: Like we are now.
Peter Wrench: Fantastic.
John Hughes: Yes, like the five of us are now.
Derek Smith: This is unique I think, it must be.
John Hughes: Yes, this meeting brings back many things into your memory.
Peter Wrench: Makes you proud….
John Hughes: You have a career and family life and keep in touch from a distance. However,
you do have affinity with your alma mater.
Purple Group, Alleyn’s 1940s Memories Day Reunion
1 March 2011
4
Introduction
‘We didn't realise we were at the very end of an epoch which had begun to fade at the turn of the
century and was now, after the Second World War, crumbling fast. In 1945 we were bankrupt and
within a few short years the Empire would be gone.’ Roy Barnes, Twenty-Five Years On: One Boy’s
Growing Up, p107
At the start of this account of ‘Alleyn’s in the 1940s’, I must warn readers that what follows is not a
chronological history of Alleyn’s in the 1940s – this duty was discharged by the late Arthur Chandler
in his history (and my Bible at work), Alleyn’s: The Co-educational School . Rather this – I hope – is a
collection of memories about Alleyn’s as seen through the prism of Alleyn Old Boys (AOBs) who were
educated at the hands of the School in the 1940s, refracted by other first-hand accounts of the time.
From time to time I have attempted to add to this references to the wider contemporary picture and
weave in some texture from historical debate.
Our AOBs’ memories are the heartbeat of this account and I have been guided by its pulse in
selecting what to include and what to omit.
Re-presenting people’s memories is a task not to be undertaken lightly. I felt this responsibility
keenly when writing the preceding report to this – ‘Alleyn’s in the 1930s’ – and felt it again with this
decade. Oral history is a jelly of a discipline. People’s memories wobble and cloud and don’t quite fit
the mould of one’s argument or vision. I have tried to resist presenting a saccharine and shapeless
view of our AOBs’ experience of Alleyn’s in the 1940s, an easy trap to fall into 70 years on. Many of
the memories contained here do retain their tartness and, I hope, give full flavour to the years
Britain endured in the teeth of war and austerity.
Before we start to hear our contributors’ memories about Alleyn’s, it is worthwhile to take a
moment to look at two documents: the Edward Alleyn Magazine and the Ministry of Education’s
Inspection Report into Alleyn’s in 1950. Both report on the events under our 1940s’ spotlight.
Edward Alleyn Magazine
The Edward Alleyn Magazine is a mirror of School life.1
The Edward Alleyn Magazine, the thrice-yearly publication which reported information about the
School and Alleyn Old Boys’ Club’s (AOBC) activities, is a good place to start to get a snapshot of
what was happening in the 1940s.
In November 1939, the magazine was some 48 pages in length, with a cover, adverts and lengthy
articles, such as a 2½ page account of Edward Alleyn and Dulwich (part two) and priced at 6d.
Towards the end of the war [March 1945], this had reduced to 22 pages, self-cover, short articles,
with no editorial (abandoned in 1942 as a paper-saving measure) and was printed on very low
quality paper using a typesize which only the keenest eyes find easy to read. War-time restrictions
on paper meant that good quality paper was nigh on impossible to obtain and that ‘…as paper was
pulped and re-pulped it acquired an appropriately khaki tint, and became grained with straw-like
1 EAM, February 1950, p2
5
fragments’2. One thing hadn’t changed: its price. It was still 6d at the end of the war – but by the end
of 1950, it had gone up to one shilling.
What is astonishing is that at no time during the 1940s – during the war and then the continued
post-war shortages – did the Edward Alleyn Magazine fail to deliver three issues per year.
The magazine was put together by prefects, itself a major feat when there was so much flux
between boys leaving London for ‘safer’ areas in Britain, staff being called up, and the fact the
magazine was reporting on enclaves of Alleyn’s scattered all over the country – at Kent, Wales,
Rossall, the South London Emergency Secondary School (SLESS) in Townley Road – as well as the
AOBs who were serving overseas. I get a taste of the editors’ frustration of deadlines and subject
matter in 1942 when they write: ‘There is so much in present events which demands more space
and attention…. Furthermore there are newcomers which demand space already restricted by war
conditions.’3 The equivalent school publication at Rossall, The Rossallian, is more explicit about these
war conditions and its editors apologised to their readers for the magazine’s ‘unusual appearance,
smaller print and reduced length…. Forced upon us by drastic new paper restrictions’4.
During the 1940s the Edward Alleyn Magazine is by turns a simple raconteur of events (and the
weather – seemingly a pre-occupation with many of the writers), a reassuring (but nonetheless
firm) voice to those parents who had entrusted their boys’ safety on the School’s evacuation, a
recorder of war-time casualties – the Roll of Honour begins in November 1940, and makes its last
appearance in November 1949 – as well as war-time honours. It also acted as a town-crier in terms
of rallying support from its readers on matters such as sending in old House shirts, balls and Fives
gloves for use by the boys, pleas to visit the boys at Rossall, and for saving the School from the crisis
it faced following the 1944 Education Act.
Given the upheaval endured by this decade, it is surprising that any of pupils received anything
resembling an education. This was recognised by the London County Council’s (LCC) Chief Inspector
of Education in 1943:
It should be remembered that the whole of their senior school years and part of their junior school
years in such [difficult] conditions. Nearly half their school life, in fact, has been spent in improvised
and often unsatisfactory conditions.5
Let us now fast-forward to 1950 and hear what His Majesty’s Inspectors had to say about Alleyn’s
when they came to call.
HMI Inspection on Alleyn’s School, 1950
I had scarcely been in charge for a year, when in 1950 a thorough-going general inspection by HMIs
from the Ministry of Education descended on the school!6
2 Longmate, p354
3 EAM, March 1942, p498
4 Winterbottom, p107
5 Report to LCC Education (General) Subcommittee, 5 July 1943, with addendum dated 13 September 1943,
cited in Gosden, p74. 6 Young, p210
6
The HMIs’ report on Alleyn’s, albeit written just after the period we’ve chosen to put in the spotlight,
nevertheless used much of its evidence for its findings from the 1940s.
Alleyn’s had last been under the glare of school inspectors (from the London County Council) in
1938; the Board of Education’s own inspectors last visited in 1932. Given the intervening world war
and the strides in educational reform that the Board – later Ministry – of Education were taking, this
gap of 18 years can probably be forgiven.
The inspectors gave a broad-brush outline of the challenges Alleyn’s faced in the intervening years,
and hinted at those that the School had to face in the years ahead.
The report acknowledged the School’s trials of a fragmented evacuation to practically all points of
the compass, and its reunification after the war (‘The task was then begun of welding these two
distinct units into one School’7). It commented on the state of the buildings (could do better, hardly
fair given the shortage of building materials, money and labour at the time), the staff (‘As a body the
Masters are extremely hard-working and give unsparingly of their time out of school hours’8), the
state of food (‘The meal when inspected was hardly adequate’9, again, unfair given the food
shortages of the time), the Headmaster (he ‘appears to enjoy the full confidence of his Governing
Body’10
) and the boys themselves (‘the spirit of the School… is to be found also in the quiet and
confident bearing of the boys who have exceptionally easy manners’11
).
History master Robert Young wrote of this inspection in his memoir Before I Forget. Sixty years on, it
is interesting to see his perspective about the inspection alongside the findings of the HMIs. He
wrote that the inspector of History was one ‘Mr Ayerst, who looked as though he had just eaten
something indigestible… and was the author of a text book which we were not using!’12
Young was
particularly irked by Mr Ayerst’s comment that 'there are no signs of scholarship here,' and, history
teacher par excellence that he was, defensively asserted that, ‘He did not appear to be aware that
negative evidence is not evidence.’ Young peevishly blurts, ‘he might as well have remarked “There
are no signs of cigarette smoking here”. It particularly annoyed me, as we won five history
scholarships to Oxford and Cambridge in the next three years with the very people he had damped
down by his lack of enthusiasm.’13
Young pointed out how two of his headmasters at Alleyn’s (Henderson and Hudson) differed in their
approaches to inspections; Henderson:
treated inspections and examinations as side-shows; but the attitude of Hudson was more akin to
that of the Regular Army (Hudson hailed from the Warwickshire Regiment). In the army of course the
plan was always to conceal things from the inspecting officer. Thus Hudson was a trifle steamed up by
the invasion, and at pains to conceal the shocking absence of the tools with which to do the job.14
7 HMIs’ inspection, 1950, p2
8 Ibid, p4
9 Ibid, p20
10 Ibid, p2
11 Ibid, p20
12 Young, p212
13 Ibid, p212-13
14 Ibid, p211-12
7
The inspectors caught Hudson out and in their report frequently lamented the lack of books and
resources available to the boys:
In general, blackboards are in a bad condition, as also are some of the Masters' desks and chairs… In
certain of the subjects text-books require overhauling and visual aids should be gradually acquired.15
In their conclusions, this reader senses the HMIs implicitly criticising Alleyn’s for daring to focus its
post-war efforts on re-building the School to its former pre-war public school glory, rather than
taking advantage of ‘the new opportunities for educational development created by the conditions
governing the award of the General Certificate of Education’16
. The elephant in the room – that of
the School’s on-going battle to seek direct grant status – is barely mentioned. True, in their
introduction to their report the HMIs begrudgingly comment that Alleyn’s is ‘transitionally assisted’,
i.e. it was one of the
schools administered by a Governing Body whose final status, under the Education Act, 1944, has not
yet been determined by the Minister of Education and are in receipt of assistance from a Local
Education Authority for the time being. No tuition fees are payable…17
Alleyn’s was the only such school listed in this category. Alleyn’s School’s coveted direct grant status
came in 1957, some 13 years after the Education Act.
And so, let us call on our ‘quiet and confident’ boys with ‘exceptionally easy manners’ to the stage to
find out what they remember of their schooling at Alleyn’s, whether it was in Maidstone, Newport,
Fleetwood or Dulwich, in this decade of war and austerity which bequeathed a School in limbo as
the 1950s dawned.
15
HMIs’ inspection, p3 16
Ibid, p21 17
Leinster-Mackay, p36
8
Second World War
‘At the outbreak of war I was 10 but was not evacuated. London schools were closed in 1939-40 so I
missed a year which I never recovered. In 1940-41 schools re-opened after a fashion and the LCC
Junior County Scholarship exams were held which I passed…’ Dr Norman Wetherick (B, 1941-48)
As the decade starts, the buildings at Alleyn’s were empty of pupils. Alleyn’s had been part of the
nationwide evacuation programme which began on the day before war was declared and all schools
in London were closed. On 31 August 1939, the Prime Minister had authorised the evacuation to
begin the next day and the Board of Education instructed the local education authorities accordingly.
Les Johnson’s (B 1939-43) widow, Mrs Betty Johnson, recalls how
Les passed his scholarship and went to Alleyn’s, all smart in his brand new uniform. The headmaster
welcomed them, and then told them that the whole school would be evacuated on the next day! Les
only spent that one day at Alleyn’s, Dulwich….
The evacuation of London was, according to The Times ‘a triumph of preparation, organisation and
discipline’18
. The effort involved was prodigious: 72 London transport stations were involved, and in
four days the main-line railway companies carried more than 1,300,000 official evacuees, in nearly
4,000 special trains.
And so (for Britain) began the Second World War, the least unexpected war in our history. A year
before, directly after the Munich Crisis (September 1938), the government ‘had begun to deliver to
every home in the country a buff-covered, six-page booklet, The Protection of Your Home Against Air
Raids, which urged “the head of the House” to “consider himself as the captain of the ship”, and
compared the taking of precautions to the life-boat drill, essential, even if unlikely ever to be
needed. It was followed in July and August 1939 by a stream of other Public Information leaflets on
such subjects as “Your Gas Mask” and “Masking Your Windows”.’19
Peter Wrench (C 1945-49)
remembered his father taking the helm of his particular familial ship: ‘for some days, my Dad had
been busily putting up black-out screens to our windows after applying sticky tape across them to
shield us from flying glass.’20
The new sirens were first heard over most of Greater London
simultaneously in December 1938 in an effort to acclimatise the public to the fluctuating, mournful
moan of the sirens – an event which Mr Wrench recalls as one of his ‘abiding memories of life is that
of air-raid sirens sounding for the first time’21
.
Few could have foreseen the six years of disillusionment, danger, drudgery and discomfort which lay
ahead. The boys and staff at Alleyn’s were to play their part in the country’s war-effort by enlisting in
the Home Guard, contributing to War Savings Schemes, singing at concerts to raise money for the
war-effort, serving as messengers in the Civil Defence, ‘Digging for Victory’, bringing in the harvests;
and they queued for their rations and endured shortages, and ultimately, joined up to serve in the
armed forces.
18
The Times, 2 Sept 1939 19
Longmate, p4 20
Bromley Probus, p39 21
Ibid, p39
9
But back in London in 1939, when the predicted bombing raids by the Luftwaffe failed to materialise,
hundreds of thousands of families returned home again. By Christmas, more than half had gone
back, fed up with this ‘Phoney War’ (or ‘bore war’ as some called it). In February 1940 nearly a third
of all children in the cities weren’t receiving any education at all because of the closure of schools.
Emergency schools
Alan Thomas (SLESS 1940-41) remembered that
For some time stranded pupils from various schools met occasionally in parents’ parlours – biscuits,
sweets were consumed but nothing was learnt! Then a sort of preliminary SLESS [South London
Emergency Secondary School] was opened at the Oliver Goldsmith’s School, Peckham. Then came a
letter, or there was mention in the local papers, about SLESS.
The School’s Archivist, Arthur Chandler (Bn 1941-48), himself a SLESS-boy, wrote in his book about
Alleyn’s that:
For six months retired Alleyn’s Masters and others had educated those not evacuated in private
houses and local halls. [Alleyn’s Headmaster] Henderson felt that the boys in London should have a
proper education and sent [Masters] Hack and Tyson to re-open the Alleyn’s building. This was
undertaken not only to educate Alleyn’s boys who wished to remain in London but also, in
conjunction with the LCC Education Department, to offer a Grammar School education to others
whose schools were evacuated but did not themselves wish to leave London. SLESS kept Alleyn’s
buildings alive.22
The South London Emergency Secondary School was housed in the Alleyn’s buildings on Townley
Road from March 1940 and was in operation until the boys who were evacuated (first to Maidstone,
then the Junior School to Wales, and finally all together at Rossall) returned in 1945. Gordon Feeley
(SLESS 1941-50) recalled that ‘we were given the opportunity to do all the lessons and the activities
[at SLESS] that we did not think we were able to do at the beginning of the war. And suddenly, an
education did continue, a bit of chaos in places, but we were fortunate to come here to Alleyn’s.’ In
the autumn of 1940 there were 5,000 children on the rolls of emergency secondary schools and
classes in London23
.
Of his time at SLESS, Ian Smith (R 1942-49) added that
I made a lot of wartime friendships, we were a very close-knit community then, with air raids breaking
up school terms and rushing down from the old buttery to the dungeon [basement] in the main
building, waiting for the All Clear to go, most of it during the war was of course the buzz bombs, which
were quite frightening at times listening for them to cut out, and of course travelling to School
sometimes was quite interesting at times in the middle of an air raid.’
Air-raids
Alan Jackson (C 1945-51) remembered that ‘sometimes a fighter bomber would attack a bus or tram
along the road. In 1943 the bombing by the V1 flying bombs began… They caused much destruction
in SE London (see appendix for map of of V1 explosions) Although Alleyn’s School did not get hit, a
22
Arthur Chandler, Alleyn’s: The Co-educational School, p79 23
Gosden, p43; there was a South West London Emergency School based at the girls Clapham County
Secondary School.
10
V1 fell close by on the site where the post-war prefabs still stand, up Lordship Lane on the right hand
side of the hill above Townley Road near the bus stop.’ John Williams’s (R 1943-49) father took a
pragmatic view of dodging the flying bombs:
I think my father told my mother that if Doodlebugs come you could be hit ANYWHERE, so I might as
well go to School. I travelled up with friends and do remember just passing the Cyphers Sports
Ground (Kent House) not long after a V2 had landed. The train shuddered as did everything around…
Several misses like this happened to us all, but as it was part of everyday life, you just got on with
living.
Mr Williams Snr knew the risks of the trip to and from school:
Getting home from School one day my father said about 30 boys had been machine gunned down in
Lewisham High Street by a Messerschmitt. He told my brother and me to get in a ditch if German
fighters were nearby in a bombing raid. Often one would look up and see Spitfires and Hurricanes in
‘dogfights’ with German fighters. This was a daily occurrence and part of life at the time.
John Holt (S 1945-51), writing as Michael King, described an incident of a German pilot deliberately
shooting at people in streets, and bombing Sandhurst School, Sangley Road in Catford on 20 January,
1943.
Suddenly I heard a roar, and saw a plane almost skim the fence outside the cloakroom window. It was
obviously a German enemy plane and I even caught a glimpse of the pilot’s face as he flashed past
and he even gave me a wave….’.
Thirty years later Mr Holt met someone who was a pupil at the school and it was claimed that ‘the
pilot was seen furiously machine-gunning people in the streets of Penge, Sydenham and Catford,
before dropping his bombs on Sandhurst School.’24
In the Edward Alleyn Magazine of November 1944, the SLESS report acknowledged – with true Blitz
spirit – the flying bomb campaigns against London: ‘When conditions changed so abruptly we had to
re-organise our school life. Some of the boys went out into the country, and some remained at
home, but around 50% reported for school each day’25
.
This Blitz spirit even appeared in the exam room; Alan Eaglen (Tn 1939-44) described
doing my Latin exam in 1944 under the desk on the first floor because of an air raid and various V1
bombs had hit so, there we were, up on the first floor above the Headmaster’s study under the desks
writing our exams. I passed but I should have got a distinction because it was my best subject.
Bruce Cox (Tn 1941-44) remembered that
to try and minimise the amount of wasted time [we spent in the air-raid shelters] some of the senior
staff or boys would be out on the roof watching to see if planes were coming so they were sort of
spotters. So, if they saw nothing you could just get on with lessons but if one was heading your way
you would have to stay down there.
24
Michael King, The 1940s Revisited, p25 25
EAM, Nov 1944, p125
11
These eagle-eyed spotters would be on duty again to ensure the smooth running of school
productions: ‘Before the performance the audience was told that if an air raid warning sounded the
performance would continue unless the look-outs on the roof sounded their whistles when all would
evacuate to the basement as quickly as possible’26
.
Ron Smale (B 1940-46) remembered the war’s ‘rocket phase’
when school carried on regardless of attacks of which we had no warning. A memory from this period
comes to mind when we were entertained at an end of term concert. I was sitting in the balcony
enjoying Mr Logan’s rich baritone rendition of ‘Bless this House’ when a shattering explosion
occurred. After a few moments of nervous apprehension, laughter began to break out. The Almighty
must have had some reservations on the choice of song or perhaps the quality of the singing!
Battle of Britain
The boys who were evacuated to Kent were given first-row seats to view the dog fights between
Britain and Germany over the Pilgrims’ Way. Ted Robinson (Tn 1938-41) remembered that ‘Up on
the cliffs at Kingsdown, we’d throw stones at the Heinkels as they skimmed over!’
The Battle of Britain ‘brought home to everyone living in the southern parts of England that this was
a national war unlike any other, which was actually being fought on home territory’27
. It wasn’t
surprising that some parents were worried about the wisdom of an evacuation scheme which put
their sons under the direct line of German fighter pilots. The Edward Alleyn Magazine tried to
reassure:
There seems to be a little doubt in the minds of some people as to the safety of this area and in
December enquiries were made of the Ministry of Health [the Ministry overseeing evacuation at the
time] on the subject. The reply was that ‘Deal including Walmer is still a reception area and there is no
intention of removing evacuees from the borough’.28
David Alexander (B 1933-42) described how he and his friends
Watched the German planes circling the sky. When a plane was destroyed we followed where the
pilots parachuted down to see if we could find them. Sometimes we were lucky and found them….
There was one time when we found a German pilot. He asked my friends and me to help him and he
was groaning in pain. He had either broken his leg when landing or been shot in the leg. He waved his
arm in surrender. We would have helped him but he had a gun on his belt so we decided to call the
police…. It was a dangerous thing to do; we could easily have been killed but we treated it as
entertainment and a treasure hunt for finding pilots and bits of aeroplane. The tail lights of the
aeroplanes were highly prized.
Mercifully common sense prevailed and, in the words of Mrs Betty Johnson, ‘since Deal had hit-and-
run raiders long before anyone else in England did (Les said he spent all his school time there sitting
under the woodwork tables in the local school) it was soon decided to move them West [to Wales],
for more safety’.
26
Chandler, p84; no date given but probably 1944. 27
Marr, Making of Modern Britain, p383 28
EAM, February 1940, p310
12
How boys spent their time during war
For boys at Townley Road, Maidstone, Newport and Rossall, the great wartime amusement was
aircraft recognition. Roy Barnes (Bn 1942-49) fascination with all things aeronautical stemmed from
this time:
Ever since the beginning of the war, when everybody had had to learn to identify aeroplanes from
books of photographs supplied by the Government mainly so that we could tell friendly from enemy
aircraft, I had been fascinated by aeroplanes.29
A sixpenny Penguin book of aircraft silhouettes was one of the outstanding bestsellers of the war.
Eric Hirst (C 1944-50) remembered collecting ‘boxes of shrapnel from where the bombs had landed,’
and in the same way marbles are swapped, children ‘would exchange their shrapnel if they got a lot
of it.’
Boys contributed to the country’s War Savings Campaigns. The War Savings drive ran a series of
special campaigns to keep enthusiasm for the war-effort alive and to raise large sums. Running a
Savings Group appealed to those unable to take a more active part in the war. By the end of the war
nearly every school had its savings group.
The new scheme inaugurated for the sale of War Savings Stamps and Certificates has met with
marked success, and it is hoped that this will continue. Hearty thanks are due to the House Captains
for undertaking this additional duty, and to the boys for their ready response.30
John Holt (S 1945-51) was caught up in the enthusiasm:
I was immediately fascinated by the ‘Squanderbug’ posters which covered the walls, the posters
bearing the slogan ‘Buy Savings Stamps and Certificates and Defeat the Squanderbug’. The
‘squanderbugs’ were repulsive-looking creatures and were covered in swastikas. At the time,
spending was denounced as a social evil and the ‘squanderbug’ became the symbol of all that was
self-indulgent and unpatriotic.
Mr Wrench too became caught up in the country’s war savings:
I remember sending Lord Beaverbrook (then Air Minister) ten shillings (50p) which I had collected for
the Spitfire Fund. I still treasure his reply. 31
In the magazine, regular reports are made as to which House had saved the most that term – in 1944
Spread Eagle House reports ‘The fact that Crescent beat us this term in the amount of money saved
however should spur us on to greater efforts.’32
The writers encourage boys to do their bit:
the war still rages and more money will be required before the fate of the aggressors is finally sealed.
Every certificate purchased is a small nail driven into Hitler’s coffin and thus every boy has the
opportunity of helping to restore civilisation and sanity to a very sick world.33
29
Barnes, p113 30
EAM, March 1941, p401 31
Bromley Probus, p41 32
EAM, March, 1944, p78 33
Ibid, March 1942, p504
13
By November 1944, SLESS was reporting its total amount saved at a whopping £3,00034
, the
equivalent of £93,000 in today’s money.35
As well as contributing money to the War Savings, the boys at Rossall would entertain the residents
of Fleetwood with benefit concerts for local War weeks:
In connection with Fleetwood’s ‘Salute the Soldier’ campaign, the total raised was £1,509. 3s. this
result is gratifying and thanks are due to the many members of the School who supported this
effort.36
Over 90% of schools had voluntary savings groups37
. Not only did these campaigns help finance the
war, they lifted the public’s morale. Sir Harold – later Lord – Mackintosh, member of the National
Savings Committee from 1941, claimed ‘in these Weeks, we did more than raise money; we raised
hearts too. The bands played, the flags flew, the men marched, and… the people at home felt they
were taking part in the war.’38
The President of the Board of Education, RA Butler, spoke in the
House of Commons in June 1942 about the significant contribution schools were making: the total
amount they had raised so far, Mr Butler said, was £23,500,000 – at that time an enormous sum.39
Derek Smith describes other ways children helped with the war-effort on the Home Front: ‘Money
was hard to come by, particularly for those who had suffered by bombing and some would collect
old newspapers, bottles, jam jars or anything that could be sold back to shops or salvage depots.’
John Merrill (R 1942-48) and Mr Cox both served as messengers. Mr Merrill ‘was very big in the Boy
Scouts and [I] did all sorts of things and acted as a messenger even though I was only 14’. Bruce Cox
joined the Civil Defence as a 16-year-old cycle messenger.
I was attached to Post 48 of the Lambeth Civil Defence Service, which was stationed in the basement
of an old warehouse in Chapel Road, West Norwood – about 200 yards from my home. Boy scouts
provided messengers at many of the posts… As its names implies, our job was to carry messages.
There were few telephones in those days… telephone wires were often cut or destroyed by bombing,
and ours was the only method when bombs fell of getting messages to other wardens’ posts and
organisations such as heavy rescue services and the fire brigade. Other jobs included guiding fire
appliances around the area when they had been called in from other districts or stations; riding on
the running board of a fire engine to give street directions was a bonus for a 16-year-old.
….we used our bicycles and received in return an allowance of 2 shillings and 6 pence (12.5p) a month
– not a great amount as often one would be riding along streets littered with broken glass on tyres
which were not of top quality. I cannot recall any other pay, but we were issued with a dark blue
battledress and a black steel helmet with a large ‘M’ on the front. 40
A quarter of a million volunteers were organised as wardens, firemen, nurses and even amateur
bomb-disposal teams41
. It is estimated that before the war finished, there were approximately six
million fire-watchers. Arthur Chandler reports that all staff at Alleyn’s had to undertake fire-
34
Ibid, November 1944, p125 35
According to the website www.moneysorter.co.uk as at November 2011. 36
Ibid, May 1944, p95 37
Gosden, p86 38
Longmate, p384 39
The equivalent of £728,000,000 in today’s money. 40
Bromley Probus, p8 41
Marr, Making of Modern Britain, p384
14
watching at nights and at the weekends. One night during the Blitz, the English master Dr ‘Eddie’
Giles saved the Alleyn’s buildings from being destroyed. Dr Giles was on fire-watching duty.
One evening he was patrolling the top corridor in the main building when an incendiary bomb fell into
the gutter of the roof alongside him. It started to smoulder and the glow could be clearly seen. He
reached into the gutter, took the bomb by its fins and carried it to the main corridor door nearest the
fields. He threw it down and ran – within a few seconds the bomb went up in flames but only
scorched the grass. His action had saved the building.42
Both at Maidstone and Rossall, staff and senior boys took part in the Local Defence Volunteer Patrols
(later Home Guard).
War damage in Dulwich
Accurate statistics for bombing received in wartime Dulwich are complicated by the fact that whilst
most of the valley was under the Dulwich District of Camberwell Control, the area to the west of
Croxted Road came under Lambeth Control. Enemy aerial activity over Dulwich started in the middle
of August 1940, the first bomb being dropped on the area on the 28th of that month, causing no
casualties.… The heaviest attacks were to come in the ensuing weeks as the Battle of Britain raged
overhead. Heavy bombing commenced on Dulwich in the early hours of Saturday 7th September….
The raids continued night and day until the 3rd October when they abated slightly for a fortnight, only
to become heavy again until the middle of November. Thereafter the raids became sporadic, except
on the night of 16/17th April, 1941, when there was a heavy attack, causing damage in Alleyn Road
and making 1,000 people homeless in Lambeth. 43
Many of the boys at SLESS saw and suffered bomb damage at far too close a hand. Ian Smith (R
1942-49) remembered the date:
on 15 September 1940, we were bombed out. The back of the flats were demolished, my
grandmother was killed, she was staying with us at the time…. The fireman got us out, and luckily
enough, in those days, families always lived in the same area, so we just moved into our grandparents
place and in about three days, we were evacuated to those big country houses at Haslemere.
Roy Barnes (Bn 1942-49) recalled what happened to the belongings of people whose homes had
been hit:
Apparently, what furniture and possessions the rescue workers could dig out of the debris of a
completely destroyed street had been piled willy-nilly for survivors to sort out for themselves and
then removed to a warehouse to be claimed. My father couldn't do much himself, as he was buried
under the rubble at the time. His mother, Rose, after spending several days asking for him around the
rescue services and reclaiming what of his belongings she could, finally found him alive but not so well
in St Thomas's Hospital....44
Mr Wrench remembered a Saturday afternoon in 1940 when ‘Dad and I sheltered under the stairs
during a very heavy air-raid which principally targeted Surrey Docks. That evening we visited my
grandparents’ house at 56 Dulwich Road and the sky glowed orange all night from the docks blaze’.
42
Chandler, p121 43
Green, p66 44
Barnes, p95
15
While walking in Brockwell Park on Saturday mornings, young Peter and his father ‘sucking glacier
mints,’
regularly inspected the craters and more excitingly the narrow holes bearing pieces of wood marked
‘Danger unexploded bomb’ (UXB). There were craters everywhere – shades of the Somme, I suppose.
We frequently saw open-backed trucks carrying red flags with ‘Danger UXB’ chalked on their
tailboards, off to dispose of their dangerous load.45
Some of the craters were so deep they could contain a double-decker bus. In a compilation of
memories about SLESS put together by Arthur Chandler, NA Green (D 1943-52) saw several homes
destroyed:
by 1943, when I started at Alleyn’s (SLESS), my family had moved seven times and I had attended as
many schools. Our house in Swansea received a direct hit from an incendiary bomb and our home in
Beckenham was demolished by a direct hit by an HE bomb. In 1944 a doodlebug (V1) left part of its
tail in our oak tree and crashed into the house opposite killing an occupant in Burbage Road,
Dulwich.46
Flying bombs
About a week after D-Day, Mum was on fire-watching duty. The air-raid siren sounded and suddenly,
she heard a strange sound overhead. It sounded, she thought, like an old motorbike – putt-putt-
putt…! Others described it as being like the purring of the family cat; others as being like the sound of
a very large wasp! Some described the air as almost vibrating: a throbbing sound! As mother looked
up into the sky, the sound got louder and louder and she saw a strange object flying overhead, the
like of which she had never seen before. It looked like a small, black plane and fire was coming out of
its tail. Suddenly, the fire went out and the object plummeted to the ground. Next, came a loud
explosion. This mysterious object turned out to be a German V1, otherwise known to those on the
receiving end as ‘flying bombs’, ‘doodlebugs’ or ‘buzz bombs’. This was to be the start of a
concentrated flying bomb attack on London and the Home Counties and these new weapons were to
cause immense damage.47
The Vergeltungswaffen or ‘retaliation weapon’ was an unmanned and unguided bomb, carrying a
2,000 lb warhead. The liquid-fuelled, pulse-jet drone aircraft was simply pointed in the right
direction, fired up a ramp into the sky and kept level by simple gyro-compasses. When the fuel ran
out, the engine stopped and the flying bomb dropped like a stone, to explode on whatever was in its
path below. Jim French wrote:
A doodlebug (V1) bombed out my family in 1944. Six people were killed in an Anderson (corrugated
iron, garden) shelter next-door-but-two. My mother, brother and I were sleeping in a Morrison (cast-
iron) table shelter in a downstairs room. A hundred bricks were blasted onto the bed where I used to
sleep. We knew, because of the cut out V1 engine, that it would land near. All the windows were
blasted and a wardrobe crashed. Brother David, 5, asked: ‘Are we dead, Mummy?’ …. The family
home was re-established at Gubyon Avenue, Herne Hill, from where I walked or cycled to school.
Eventually our Tulse Hill house was restored.48
45
Bromley Probus, p40 46
NA Green in Chandler, SLESS, p20 47
King, p28 48
Chandler, SLESS, p20
16
Altogether 38 V1s exploded in and around Dulwich, the most tragic being on the morning of
Saturday 5 August 1944 when a V1 rocket landed on the Co-operative Stores in Lordship Lane as it
was crowded with weekend shoppers, 23 people were killed and 97 were injured.
In 1944 Mr Jackson’s mother luckily decided ‘to join friends at a village near Devizes for a week’s
break away from the London bombing. It was fortuitous that this decision was made as, whilst away
in the West Country, our house in Sydenham was demolished by a flying bomb (V1) resulting in the
loss of virtually everything. This disastrous occurrence was conveyed to us in a telegram message
followed by a letter some days later as no telephone contact was possible. We soon returned to
Sydenham and subsequently a property was requisitioned for us to move into.’
Mr Green has vivid memories of when his house was hit by a V1:
Our roof and ceilings fell in and doors and windows blown out, and when we emerged amongst the
rubble unscathed from our Morrison table shelter in the sitting room I remember looking up and
seeing the morning sky.
Amazingly, life went on and
Somehow my mother packed us off to school as usual and I heard the school clock striking nine
o’clock as I left my bike at my aunts’ house opposite the school. But I was minutes late and the
prefects were already in place at the school gateway. My name went in the book, which meant a
detention!49
The last weapon in Hitler’s armoury was the V2. With this new terror weapon, there was no warning
whatsoever. As John Holt writes, ‘you could be walking along the street, then, suddenly, there would
be an almighty explosion… There was no air-raid warning; no sound of an aircraft, or the
unmistakable noise of a V1. A building would just collapse, followed by the noise of the explosion.
Sometimes a strange, white vapour could be seen hanging vertically in the air’.50
Three landed in
Dulwich. Mr Holt’s grandfather was killed in a V2 rocket which hit Smithfield Market and ‘Dad had to
travel to London to identify him and was shown Grandad’s gold pocket-watch, which was smashed
to pieces.’51
Dulwich’s final bomb was on 4 March 1945, when a V1 fell in the playing fields by Nairn Grove and
Sunray Avenue.
Changing landscape of war-time Dulwich
Over the capital, large silver balloons wobbled. These were barrage balloons, designed to prevent
German aircraft from flying lower over London. Alleyn’s anchored one of these balloons for the
duration:
49
Ibid 50
King, p34 51
Ibid, p35
17
Out of commission for the whole of the war was the Townley Field as new brick and concrete
buildings appeared to house the RAF barrage balloon crews…. The huge balloon overshadowed the
main building at times and, more than once, nearly settled on the School’s roof.52
Ted Robinson (Tn 1938-41) told us the name of the Alleyn’s balloon:
As the barrage balloon was being installed, ‘What’s your name, young lady?’ the crewmen asked of a
JAGS girl walking past in Townley Road. ‘Beryl,’ she called. ‘Bang on,’ they chorused, ‘just right for our
bonny girl – Beryl the Barrage Balloon’.53
Beryl the Barrage Balloon was somewhat temperamental – James Maple (Bn 1942-50) remembered
it being impaled on one of the railings after a high wind and he took a piece of Beryl’s fabric as a
trophy of war54
. Several of our boys remember when Beryl was struck by lightning and, scarily, came
down during a House football match which was being watched by the whole school who were ‘lined
up round the football pitch between the Pavilion and Townley Road. We were watching the final of
the inter-House “league”. … The balloon came slowly down crossing to our side of the road and
ended up on the pitch.’55
The magazine gave an even more vivid account:
After three quarters of the time had gone, with the rain beating down and thunder and lightning
marking off the minutes, amid roars of enthusiasm and derision, McClymont's diminutive goalkeeper
let a 40 yard crawler roll through his legs, and the match was almost over. The shock was too much
for our balloon, which came down in flames and dragged its cable over the pitch like a skipping rope,
so ending perhaps the most spectacular argument ever decided on our grounds: Evans' are the
football champions....'56
Mr Feeley remembered it differently saying that ‘the game had to be abandoned which, as team
captain, was disappointing to me because we were on a winning streak’.
Another change to the surroundings were the air-raid shelters. Peter Rodway (C 1942-50)
remembered the ‘underground air-raid shelters near the bottom of the Woodwarde Road back
gardens that I visited on several occasions from my home at 94 Woodwarde Road.’ He recalled that
whenever the air-raid warning went at night, there was a designated house in Woodwarde Road,
[belonging to] a chap called Martin Wales who was an Alleyn’s Old Boy, [and] his house had a back
gate which led on to the top playing fields, and we would all pour through his back garden, through
the gate, into these underground shelters. Now they were, after the war, filled in, and I’ve often
wondered if a school archaeological dig would reveal some remains?
Up at Rossall, they too had their shelters. The magazine reports that
52
Chandler, p79 53
The balloon may have had another name. I have also discovered a reference to ‘Gloomy Rupert’, who ‘sulks
and broods and gazes down on us… while we are keenly aware of his blue-clad menials running around after
his wants and churning up our fields.' (EAM, June 1940, p352) 54
Chandler, SLESS, p21 55
Bernard Tomlin quoted in Chandler, SLESS, p23 56
EAM, June 1941, p439
18
Early in the term the House Kitchen was transformed into an air-raid shelter. No longer is it possible
to walk straight through; one has now to dodge about as in the Hampton Court Maze. It is obvious
that the shelter is a very strong one, but it is hoped that we shall not have to use it.57
Derek Winterbottom, in his history of Rossall School, wrote that ‘it could not be said that the war
came close to Rossall,’58
but given there were targets close by in the shape of the RAF base at
Blackpool, the American unit and the Liverpool docks, as well as the ICI factory at Thornton, this
reader is heartened that precautions were made for the Rossall residents. Indeed, on our recent
pilgrimage to Rossall [in July 2011], the Headmaster, Dr Stephen Winkley, told our party about an
American aircraft that crashed into a school in Singleton, a village close by, on 24 August 1944, killing
a number of children. Our AOBs also remembered retrieving the body of an American airman from
the sea (see ‘Exile in Rossall’ chapter).
Dig for victory
Another change to the local landscape was the amount of land taken over to allotments and kitchen
gardens. Alleyn’s played its part both at Maidstone, Townley Road and Rossall. Mr Williams recalled
that
There was quite a large allotment for growing food right at the far end of the playing fields near the
other Fives Courts. Mr Haslam (Junior School Master) organised the labour for this project. I assume
the food was used for school lunches – a lot of cabbage was consumed!
In a broadcast by the Minister of Agriculture on 4 October, 1939, the minister Reginald Dorman-
Smith launched the ‘Dig for Victory’ campaign, declaring: ‘We want not only the big man with the
plough but the little man with the spade to get busy this autumn… Let “Dig for Victory” be the motto
of everyone with a garden.’
The Alleyn’s boys in their exile in Kent picked up their spades too. The magazine approvingly wrote:
the ‘Dig for Victory’ movement has been strongly in evidence among Staff and School alike. Real,
serious hard work has been done and every credit is due to those Masters and boys who have toiled
early and late to ensure a prolific abundance from what was a somewhat derelict garden….59
In 1942 the magazine editors bask, ‘from the windows of the Editorial Office we can see Mr Haslam
and his faithful minions toiling at the unyielding soil.’60
Farm camps
The boys’ husbandry skills were put to further use for the country’s good in joining the ‘Lend a Hand
with the Land’ initiative and helping out at harvest camps. Many farm labourers had been called up
so there was a dearth of available labour at harvest-time.
In 1942, the government passed an order permitting the granting of exemption from school for
children over 12 for up to 20 half days annually for agricultural labour61
. Pupils’ rates of pay were
57
Ibid, October 1941, p470 58
Winterbottom, p107 59
EAM, June 1940, p350 60
Ibid, May 1942, p531 61
Gosden, p83
19
even agreed with the National Farmers’ Union and the National Union of Agricultural Workers. From
1942 assistance was given with railway fares and accommodation was provided free of charge. In
1942 there were 569 harvest camps for boys (75 for girls, and 10 which were mixed)62
. Some schools
‘virtually compelled boys to give up part of their holidays to attending farm camps…. And by 1943
about 70,000 schoolboys were helping on the land’63
. Attendance at farm camps became a regular
occurrence – and continued long after the war had ended. The magazine reported on a farming
party of ‘more than 45 stalwarts’ who ‘picked fruit or carried corn for varying lengths of time, and
provided a very necessary supply of labour (some not so unskilled after two years’ experience) for
which the farmers were grateful.’64
Mr Cox remembers a rather alarming incident at a farm near East Grinstead:
Some summer holidays we were expected to go to farms and help gather the harvest. The School
arranged for us to work on a peer’s estate near East Grinstead. We were under cover in large bell
tents with about 12 boys to a tent. Our 1st evening turned out different from that which we had been
expecting. The field behind the row of tents, containing a cereal crop, was due to be cut and we lined
the wire fence to watch. As the tractor and reaping machine neared the centre the rabbits, hiding in
the corn, made a dash for safety and the farmer on the tractor pulled out his shotgun. The rabbits
headed straight for us and two boys on either side of me were hit. They had lead shot in their chests
and were taken to hospital, but no serious damage was done. The tale became a boast of theirs for a
long time afterwards.65
But not, I suspect, a boast shared by the School….
Rationing
Even with every corner of land in Britain being turned over to agricultural production, rationing
became, in Mr Feeley’s words, ‘an effective way of ensuring that the war-time population had its fair
share of the limited resources available’. Derek Smith explained that
Food rationing was controlled by the issue of coupons in ration books which allowed restricted
amounts of certain foods each week per person, i.e. 2 oz bacon, 2 oz margarine or butter, 2 oz
cheese. All meats were rationed when available at the butchers, otherwise it was sausagemeat,
corned beef or spam. Milk and bread were rationed and so was coal, which usually was difficult to get
in the winter, so we relied on logs for burning.
Gerry Thain (Tn 1938-44) remembers that ‘the main effect of rationing was in the choice and
amount of food available’. The resulting ‘grey diet of pies, hotpots, fake sweets and cakes made
from stodge… atop a huge propaganda effort of pamphlets, leaflets, press ads and broadcasts,
eventually drove most people mad’66
. Our AOBs remembered the non-profit British Restaurants
which provided cheap, nourishing, self-service meals in over 2,000 locations. Mr Feeley tells of the
British Restaurant based at Heber Road School where there was
62
Ibid, p84 63
Longmate, p238 64
EAM, January 1943, p4 65
Bromley Probus, p10 66
Marr, Making of Modern Britain, pp392-93
20
resentment felt by the boys at Heber Road School over the gradual increase in the popularity of the
British Restaurant on their school premises with the Alleyn’s boys, who used to descend upon it at
lunchtime. These British Restaurants were a war-time feature run by central/local government to
provide cheap nourishing meals for the population at large. The antagonism between the two school
factions using the restaurant finally came to a head on one lunchtime with scrimmages between the
two parties, resulting in both schools being given set times at which each could attend the restaurant.
As well as coupons for food, there were coupons for clothes. Mr Jackson lists the amounts required:
Clothes rationing was based on an allocation of 60 coupons for children and 50 for adults for a 12-
month period. A pair of trousers would require 6 coupons, blazer 8 coupons, and a shirt 4 coupons.
Frank Halford (R 1942-49) still has the letter from the Headmaster, Mr Allison, to his parents when
young Frank joined the School in 1942 listing the clothing that we should wear to school. Mr Allison
added ‘of course, I do realise with these days of clothing coupons you may not be able to manage it
all.’ There were constant appeals to AOBs for their old House shirts; on one occasion Mr Allison
wrote:
‘Every boy… is supposed to turn out for football in the House shirt of his Dulwich House. This is
becoming increasingly difficult for him; stocks at the shop are low, and the supply of available
coupons is lower still. It would be a god-send to us here [at Rossall] if any OBs who still have House
football shirts would send them for use by the present generation. Such gifts will be acknowledged
with gratitude, and the giver will have the satisfaction of knowing that he is doing a real service to
Alleyn’s and to his old House. Please treat this as a most urgent request, and post off the shirt as soon
as possible.’67
Mr Rodway, who joined SLESS in 1942, was one of the few who came to school armed with ‘a Cribb’s
House football shirt’. He explained, ‘I had persuaded my mother at great expense to purchase this
shirt for me as these were in short supply, I think I was one of the few footballers to wear a Cribb’s
(or Allison’s as it was at SLESS) shirt for football until the return from Rossall.’68
Possibly more critical than a lack of House shirts to the standard of education the boys were
receiving was the perennial lack of paper. Mr Feeley remembered the shortage: ‘we were aware that
supplies of paper were limited and were therefore careful not to be extravagant in its use’. One
Chief Inspector of Education complained in 1943 that the desire to save paper had ‘degenerated into
a parsimony’ and was endangering some children’s education.69
Bernard Tomlin remembered how ‘I
joined SLESS on day one… We had nothing to read, nothing to write on and nothing to write with.’70
Realising the lack, the Board of Education suggested, Pollyanna-like, that written work might
sometimes be replaced by ‘lively and searching oral work’71
.
Newspapers had very few pages – usually only four. Mr Cox suspects that the bag he carried on his
newspaper round was much lighter than today’s boys and girls, although admittedly today’s delivery
routes wouldn’t be disrupted by air-raids like his were.
67
EAM, March 1944, p92 68
Chandler, SLESS, p21 69
Longmate, 196 70
Chandler, SLESS, p23 71
Gosden, p80
21
Alleyn’s was enterprising in its saving of paper; for its paper chase at Rossall, the magazine editors
report that the School was ‘mindful of the paper shortage, [so] we instituted sand chases.’72
And
what would have been – to my eyes, over sixty years on – an interesting insight into the workings of
local politics is curtailed by paper shortages: the editors had to summarise two articles about a visit
to Blackpool and Fleetwood Borough Councils, saying ‘the above is a summary of two articles,
written by RLJ Ferne and BJ Marshall, which paper restrictions force us to cut down. – Ed’73
Shortages were a daily occurrence. In 1943, even cornflowers on Founder’s Day were rationed74
.
‘Make do and mend’ wasn’t whimsy, it was a necessity. House ribbons for straw boaters were
‘becoming unobtainable and were being made of three different coloured ribbons sewn together’75
.
David Wallace (C 1941-46) remembers most of his time at Rossall carrying out maintenance work on
the Alleyn’s part of the site ‘because of a shortage of skilled men in war-time.’
Awareness of the war
Our interviewers asked our AOBS about how much they knew about the progress of the war as it
happened. Mr Feeley said ‘Not really, it just happened around us. It was there all the time, no-one
really needed to tell us about it’. It is possible that the routine of school provided an antidote to
possible war strain experienced by pupils.
Mr Feeley later added that, ‘despite the set backs of the early years of the war, there were never any
doubts in my mind as to the outcome, possibly due to the optimism and naïveté of youth and
therefore education was seen as essential for a future career when life returned to normal.’ Roy
Barnes wrote of the widely held view by children at the time that ‘the circumstances of the war had
been such that we had to believe that all Germans were devils out of hell, and that we English were
angels out of heaven, given by God the task of stopping them….’76
. In an interesting exchange about
the war, Messrs Rodway and Howlett (B 1944-50) said:
Mr Rodway: It never occurred to me, during the war, that England wouldn’t win.
Mr Howlett: No, absolutely.
Mr Rodway: I mean you knew it was a war but I didn’t think Germany was going to win, even if they
were going to invade us. To me it was an adventure, but I always thought England would come out
top.
Much of what was happening to AOBs serving in the armed forces was by necessity censored –
added to which they (and the editors) were in a state of transit for much of the time. Indeed, it is
amazing any reports from the AOBC were published at all during the war given the catalogue of
challenges the Club faced; in accounting for this state of affairs, the Club officers tried to explain that
evacuation prevented officers of the Emergency Committee to meet, because:
The School was either at Maidstone or Rossall – the President [of the AOBC] was at Bournemouth –
the Deputy President at Llandudno – the Principal Officers in the Forces, and to crown it all the books
and records only partially survived the bombing of the Hon Treasurer’s offices.
72
EAM, March 1944, p7 73
Ibid, May 1944, p84 74
Ibid, November 1943, p61 75
Chandler, p76 76
Barnes, p101
22
There is then a pitiful postscript to this: ‘We regret delay in publishing this Report, due to the original
MSS being lost when our premises at Dulwich were bombed. Ed’77
.
Reports of what AOBs were doing in the war did not fully come to light until after the conflict ended
and censorship was lifted (‘May we ask OBs, now that the censorship is removed, to send us articles
on their experiences?78
The OBs of the School have played a fine part in helping to win the war, as
the Service Lists published regularly since 1939 have shown, and we at home are proud of them.’79
).
But even if the boys had been kept in the dark about what former pupils were doing in the war, for
the boys at SLESS the reality of war was brought closer to home in 1944 when one of their fellow
pupils, Peter Jenkyn, was killed by a V1 rocket hitting his home in Lovelace Road. The magazine
reported his death:
the grim hand of war has touched the homes of many of us, staff and boys, but we are very thankful
to say that only one of our number has been taken from us; with deepest regret we report the loss of
PH Jenkyn, VA, of Roper’s House, Alleyn’s, who has been with us since September, 1940, and who was
killed by enemy action on July 31st.80
All the boys remembered announcements at assembly each morning of the deaths of individual
AOBs who were killed in the war. Many of the names would have been known to them as their
senior fellows of the previous term/s. Memorial services to those killed were held throughout the
war; a total of 130 AOBs were killed on military service in the Second World War.81
Astonishingly, one of the governors of Alleyn’s was Sir James Grigg82
, Secretary of State for War. And
no token-governor was he: he visited the School in Dulwich as its guest of honour on Speech Day in
June 1942. (This at a time when this reader wonders whether his time might have been better spent
examining quite what was going on in Sevastapol and El-Alamein.)
In Sir James’s rallying speech, the magazine reports that he said ‘that one of the greatest needs of
today was self-reliance. Safety-first was not a good guiding principle for life, and we should aim at
positive rather than merely passive virtues. He urged a spirit of adventurousness.’
And in a note which is rather surprising given the hundreds of laws his government had passed
controlling every minutiae of people’s lives, he went on to say that ‘It was not the part of the State
to regulate every detail of our lives; indeed laws should be as few as possible’. Then sounding like a
future JF Kennedy, Sir James bids that ‘we should ask from life, not freedom from risks but the
greatest opportunity for service.’ The magazine finishes its account of his speech reporting:
77
EAM, March 1945, p161 78
There is a fascinating, but anonymous, article entitled ‘Escape’ which gives an account of one AOB’s nine
months of being on the run as a PoW following the Italian armistice in September 1943. It is reproduced in the
Appendix. 79
Ibid, November 1945, p192 80
Ibid, November 1944, pp125-26 81
Biographical details about the AOB casualties of the Second World War are posted on the Edward Alleyn
Club website, www.edwardalleynclub.com; a hard copy of the document can be posted on request. 82
Sir James Grigg (1890-1964) became Secretary of State for War in February 1942, one of the more unusual
ministerial appointments made by Churchill. Grigg retained his post for the rest of the war, holding it also in
Churchill's 1945 ‘Caretaker Government’. In 1942 he was elected as MP for Cardiff East, beating Fenner
Brockway. However, in the 1945 general election he lost his seat and left public life.
23
Speaking of his own work as Secretary for War, Sir James pointed out that the British Army has had to
achieve in three years what the German Army had ten years to prepare for. But he was confident that
with courage we should equal and surpass our enemies.83
Passing comments are made about the war-situation in the Edward Alleyn Magazine. In an account
of a Field Day battle, the magazine reports: ‘The actual course of the battles is too controversial to
discuss here; suffice it to say that even Goebbels could not have invented so many fictitious and
impossible claims’84
. Another visitor to Alleyn’s, Lord Soulbury, who the preceding year had been
replaced as President of the Board of Education by RA Butler, spoke to the School on Speech Day on,
‘one important aspect of English education, the training of character.’ One feels public school
aficionado Henderson would be rubbing his hands with glee. Lord Soulbury:
pointed out that the Nazi tyranny would fall not because it lacked brains or machines, but because it
lacked morals. He urged his audience in this age of shifting values to remember that the ultimate test
of a man’s education was whether at the end of it he could distinguish not only true from false, but
good from bad, and had moreover the power to follow the right when he saw it. It was easy to see
from their attention that his audience recognised the greatness of his theme and his skill in
developing it.85
But educating – or even training the character of – the boys was never going to be easy in war-time.
Some had already recognised the hard work ahead. The Rev JH Watt, the vicar of Boxley, one of the
villages our boys were evacuated to, presented prizes at Speech Day in 1940 and
congratulated all of us, not only on being alive at all in this much bombed existence, but especially on
being alive at this time. ‘Never has a higher task been laid on a rising generation; never was there a
time when we came on the earth with a bigger job to do, and our hope is that men will say: - “They
were in very truth God’s Gift”.’86
At the end of this chapter on the Second World War, let us not deny ourselves a glimpse into how
Alleyn’s recorded the Allies’ victory – in the Edward Alleyn Magazine:
On this occasion the great events which are happening as we go to press call for some recognition. In
this hour of complete victory over the Germans, and filled with gratitude for our great deliverance,
we should first like to offer our heartfelt tribute to all those who have fought and worked so
magnificently to bring it about. We are proud of the part that hundreds of our Old Boys have played….
And we remember with gratitude and respect the many Old Boys who have given their lives to
preserve our freedom, offering our deepest sympathy to their relations and friends.
And, in a sentence which beggars belief given the social changes prompted by this very war:
It is to schools like our own that the Country has looked for leaders, not only in the King’s Forces but
in every department of national life; and that call has been answered to the full.87
I prefer to leave the final word of VE Day to Mr Wrench recalling:
83
EAM, October 1942, p573 84
Ibid, March 1942, p515 85
Ibid, November 1944, p127 86
Ibid, Nov 1940, p385 87
Ibid, July 1945, p166
24
those never-to-be-forgotten victory celebrations. We marked VE Day by dancing with neighbours
around a bonfire in a nearby side street. My father got so merry that he kicked off his slippers into the
blazing embers.88
88
Bromley Probus, p42
25
Evacuation: Operation ‘Pied Piper’
‘The evacuation of the school took place one day before war was declared. Hitler marched into
Poland, and Britain and France declared war on Germany…. The school walked in orderly groups,
labelled H29, through Dulwich Village, down Gallery Road to West Dulwich Station to entrain for an
unknown destination. Ultimately the Junior School fetched up at Lenham near Charing at the foot of
the North Downs in Kent. The Senior School detrained at Hollingbourne near Maidstone, and were
issued with an apple and a cup of tea by the W.I., and began looking for lodgings near Weavering
Street and Boxley on the outskirts of Maidstone.’ Robert Young, Before I Forget, p106
The evacuation of ‘we sons of the Foundation’89
had already taken place before our decade begins.
Indeed, a notice about the emergency evacuation of London school children was sent out to parents
in April 1939. Parents were given a starkly simple opt-in/opt-out choice:
Any member of the School who comes to School at the usual hour on that day [of evacuation] will be
taken in the School party and anyone who does not will be left behind.
The notice advised what pupils should take – a complete change of clothing – and it counselled: ‘A
great deal of luggage is not necessary. We are not going into a desert…’. But all details were covered;
for those boys who had pets the notice instructed that ‘No animal pets can possibly be taken with
the School,’ and for those pets whose care would be jeopardised by the immediate departure of
their schoolboy-owner ‘a note should be sent – at once – to the RSPCA… giving particulars and
asking for advice’.
The official evacuation of London and the other British cities, ‘Operation Pied Piper’, was announced
by the BBC on the wireless on 1 September and took three days to complete. Almost 1.5m people
travelled from cities to small towns and villages. Most of the official evacuees, some 830,000, were
school children. Many schools evacuated en masse. Even the Alleyn’s School shop followed the
pupils on their evacuation trail to Kent:
The School Shop
Will give the best possible service…. The Manager visits Maidstone every Tuesday and Deal every
Wednesday to take orders. Other days the Shop is open at the School.90
As a foretaste of the increasing controls government would enforce over people’s lives during the
war (and after), the Board of Education prepared a speech that headteachers were to read at
parents' meetings convened about the evacuation programme. Headteachers were to urge parents
'to entrust your children to their teachers to take them away to some safer place'91
.
It was quite common for schools to be scattered over many villages – as Alleyn’s was. The magazine
gives ‘Group Notes’ from each of the villages – Detling, Boxley, Sandling, Weavering. One witty wag
wrote (presumably to the tune of the Lambeth Walk) in the poetry section of the EAM:
89
EAM, November 1939, p283 90
Ibid, p287 91
Gosden, p9
26
(With apologies to S.E.11)
Any time you’re Weav’ring way,
You can hear us all who say
Happy are the Weav’ring folk
Doing the Weav’ring walk.
Why not come down Weav’ring Street?
You will find it quite a treat;
Detling, Sandling we can beat
Doing the Weav’ring walk.
Everyone’s proud and happy
That he’s a Weav’ring chappy.
Why don’t you come and stay here,
Work here, play here?
So – Any time you’re Maidstone way,
Not to Boxley you will stray,
But to Weavr’ing stalk
To do the Weavr’ing Walk.92
It’s at this point that the Edward Alleyn Magazine came into its own. In an age before easy
communication, the magazine was a key way to reassure worried parents of their sons’ welfare. For
example, the Weavering Club’s activities were curtailed by an ‘outbreak of German measles, when
the club was closed for fear of spreading the infection.’93
At times, the authors appear a little too
chipper: ‘With so many and so varied amusements, we were well able to forget for a time our old
homes in Dulwich and even be thankful and proud that we were members of the Weavering Group.’
There was probably a good reason for this chipper-ness, Sandy Alexander (B 1938-47) remembered
being billeted in a pub and in the ‘pretty smelly’ tack room of a stately home:
Some of the first batch to leave London were billeted in a place called the ‘Who’d a thought it’ pub.
Then there was Chilston Park, where we slept amongst saddles and such.
Billets and digs in Kent
Gerry Thain’s (Tn 1938-44) bed was a mattress on a table; Les Johnson (B 1939-43) was billeted in a
house run by a
rather mean landlady who normally ran a bed and breakfast place [who] took in 12 boys. She put six
beds each in her two top landing bedrooms. Unfortunately, the loo was on the next floor down. She
got fed up with the boys keep running up and down the stairs (wearing out her carpet) that she gave
each of the boys a chamber pot, and locked them in the bedrooms at night!
Finding hosts for children – especially adolescents – evacuated from the cities was difficult. Robert
Young recalled how fellow master, Sir John Maitland, who was ‘in charge of one of our parties, was
met by a hostess who had a bath ready in the hall, expecting the need to disinfest London children
92
EAM, February 1940, p318 93
Ibid, June 1940, p346
27
from the docks!’94
Hosts complained that the billeting allowance of 8s 6d or 10s 6d was inadequate
for boys of secondary school age. Sandy Alexander’s older brother, David (B 1933-42), who was 15,
remembers the selection process of evacuees by hosts: ‘we sat around like parrots on a perch
waiting to be picked’. The Alexander brothers were not billeted together and didn’t see each other
again until the end of 1940.
Happily, the party from Alleyn’s were good guests; at Speech Day in 1940, ‘a parent from the body of
the hall expressed on behalf of other parents their appreciation of the friendliness and hospitality
shown to the boys by the inhabitants of Maidstone and the surrounding districts, and asked the
Headmaster to make this as widely known as possible.’ In fact, Alleyn’s made many friends in the
Kentish villages and the Rev JH Watt, vicar of Boxley, became a frequent visitor to the School both at
Dulwich and at Rossall. In the magazine of June 1940, there was an account of the history of Boxley
parish, which has an intriguing parallel with Dulwich in that Dickens’s Mr Pickwick features there.95
For most children, evacuation gave them a prolonged period of freedom. Ted Robinson (Tn 1938-41)
admitted that ‘at ages 10, 11, 12 we were still very naïve; certainly immature and incapable of
imagining the atrocities and horrors that were to come’. In a letter, Peter Philpott (B 1934-43) wrote
that until joining up, ‘we enjoyed our lives – working hard at school to make up for lost time but with
freedom at the weekends to cycle (sometimes back to Dulwich), to swim, play tennis and Fives.’ Roy
Dann (D 1937-42) credited the war for getting ‘me a bicycle. Before the war I was so envious of the
boys who cycled to school as my parents considered cycling dangerous so I wasn’t allowed a bicycle.
However, when were evacuated to Lenham in Kent, I told them I needed one to get to school so they
then bought me a second hand bicycle’. Continuing the cycling reminiscences, Mr Dann told our
pupil-interviewers:
One thing I do remember – I shudder to think about it – we used to cycle all four or five of us down
the Deal High Street, there was less traffic then, all with our arms on each other’s shoulders and no
hands on the handlebars. But it’s the kind of thing we used to do when we were your age.
Mr Robinson recalled when ‘the Junior School was evacuated to Deal the youngest of us were
housed together in a vacated prep school (St Clare’s), but those of us (11-12 years-old) in the then
3rd and Shell forms, had to be billeted privately’. Mr Robinson was then billeted with two others
‘with the celebrated Cavell family – which I have ever since looked back upon with the greatest
pleasure and appreciation.’ Percy Cavell was the lifeboat engineer and was Mr Robinson’s ‘boyhood
hero’. Mr Cavell
was a World War I ‘Q-ship engineer’; a highly respected early ‘wireless’ researcher/contributor and
the founder of Deal Sailing and Rowing Club. We were introduced to his fantastic workshop (where he
made intricately detailed lifeboat models – and we boys made model Spitfires); we were introduced
to the new delights of offshore fishing; we were nightly down on the beach helping with the planking
for the launching or winching in of the lifeboat. It was an exciting time for we youngsters.
George Doubleday (Tn 1937-46) still has some of the letters his landladies sent to his mother about
George’s stay and kindly sent them to me. They give a fascinating insight into the bonds which
94
Young, p106 95
EAM, June 1940, pp359-62
28
developed between host and charge. Mr Doubleday shared digs with David Pratt (Tn 1937-46) at Mr
and Mrs Beyth’s home in Deal. Mrs Beyth wrote:
Buster (he insists that we call him this in preference to George) is, I think, very happy here, and is
absolutely no trouble. Both he and David amuse themselves very well, and I enjoy their company as
my husband is out a good deal.
We should miss them very much now, although for your sake I hope it may soon be possible for them
to return home, in the meantime you may rest assured that they will be treated as our own, and both
my husband and I will do all in our power to make their stay with us a happy one.
In another letter Mrs Beyth fretted about the state of repair of Buster’s long trousers ‘as they are all
patches and darns’ and gave details about how she helped the boys with their coughs: ‘I got a 3/-
bottle of Owbridge’s96
between them [and] they have been having it night and morning and it seems
to have cured it’.
The ‘Vackies’97
from Alleyn’s were scattered all over the place: ‘For many of us life has been a matter
of a billet and then a billet’98
. There was much confusion both for the hosts – the villages around
Charing in Kent were surprised to find they were to host 600 girls and staff of Camberwell’s Mary
Datchelor School instead of the seven elementary schools they had been told to expect. Closer to
the Alleyn’s experience, the reporters for the Fifty Club lamented in the magazine that
Unhappily the minute-book had been lost in the turmoil of evacuation, so that the events of previous
meetings could not be recalled99
.
Evacuation pastimes
The ‘solicitous government’s’100
primary concern for the evacuated children was one of their safety
rather than their education. Mr Thain remembers that ‘it was a real experience of life. Staff were
very good – they still had to look after us. You had to look after yourself quite a bit. You got plenty of
help though.’ David Alexander – one of the older evacuees – remembered this as an exciting time
and as an adventure. The prevailing circumstances of war gave many new opportunities for learning.
Individual teachers sometimes found themselves able to break out of the formal structures which
had conditioned their teaching in pre-war times and try out more informal methods. The Junior
School boys ‘had very little in the way of books and equipment for the first few days until the arrival
of two lorry loads from London.’ The magazine editors described a peripatetic existence – reliant on
those much-coveted bicycles:
a three-mile journey to School, and, in fact, School every day, are now again taken as a matter of
course. Latin in a crypt and maths in the hall of a Unitarian chapel; P.S. in M.G.S. library and bicycles in
a garage. This is our new life.
At the outset the editors of the magazine detected ‘a certain boredom ahead, and worse – a time of
mud and wet and cold in unfamiliar places.’ The boys – and their masters – were involved with ‘hay-
96
A cough syrup of the time. 97
Ibid, February 1940, p305 98
Ibid, November 1939, p283 99
Ibid, November 1939, p279 100
Ibid, November 1939, p283
29
making and fruit-picking, of trench digging and adventure’101
in Kent and you can hear the sniggering
editors when they write ‘there have been sights and feelings to console us. We have seen men,
worthy men, Housemasters some of them, working digging, stripped to the waist, sweating….’102
.
Robert Young was not surprised to find that there weren’t any staff for Maidstone’s underground
telephone headquarters, and equally not surprised when Headmaster
Henderson, being on the spot, and being that sort of man, promptly volunteered all members of his
staff! We found ourselves manning telephones, and spending sleepless nights, waiting for the air-raid
incidents which did not immediately occur.103
The boys entertained themselves in their various billets with singing, darts, whist drives, chess, table
tennis, bowls and handball. Dr Philpott remembers the ‘heavy snowfalls in January [1940] and [we]
enjoyed tobogganing nearby’. This is recorded by the attentive editors who described,
The steep snow-bound slopes of the North Downs [which] provided some excellent toboggan runs,
and a miniature winter sports season was enjoyed by many of us, although we suffered a few minor
casualties. A severely curtailed ‘bus service obliged us to walk the three miles between Detling and
School, and emphasised the rural seclusion in which we live.104
Dr Philpott remembered that ‘we were still sharing with Maidstone Boys’ Grammar School for a
while, but moved into Albion Place School (rather battered after being used by the army) before
Easter’. Like many schools, Alleyn’s was paired with a local school and each school worked a double-
shift system, the host school using the premises in the morning and the visitors in the afternoon. In
the magazine’s Football Notes, ‘SI’ [Sidney Incledon?] expressed Alleyn’s
gratitude to the Maidstone Grammar School Sports authorities for their kindness and assistance
throughout the term. By providing us with every facility in the matter of grounds and changing
accommodation, and in every way, they have made it possible for us to carry on our games efficiently
and effectively.’105
This period covered the ‘Phoney War’ and, following a national pattern, boys began to drift back to
familiarity of their homes. In September 1939, 764,900 school children had been evacuated under
the official scheme; the number remaining in the reception areas in January 1940 was 420,000, i.e.
55% of those who had come on the outbreak of war106
. In the magazine of November 1939, the
editors commented on
the abnormal circumstances and the increased number of leavers, the Editors have found it
impossible to complete the usual Valete, but ask all leavers to furnish them with details of their
school careers, which the Editors will be pleased to publish in the next issue.107
WJ Smith in Music in Education remembered that after the evacuation to Maidstone, ‘The numbers
fell very sharply, and about 400 boys left the school in 15 months. This was a testing.’108
This state of
flux continued throughout the war to the confusion of editors and authorities alike.
101
Ibid, February 1940, p294 102
Ibid, November 1939, p283 103
Young, p107 104
EAM, June 1940, p347 105
Ibid, February 1940, p311 106
Gosden, p18 107
EAM, November 1939, p260
30
Blitz and to Wales
By May 1940, ‘things changed dramatically with the German Blitzkreig, the French surrender and the
evacuation from Dunkirk,’ explained Dr Philpott. ‘The war suddenly seemed very close as trains
loaded with evacuated servicemen passed by the end of our orchard’.
Government departments discussed ‘ways of adjusting the evacuation scheme in view of the new
dangers threatening the East and South-East coasts and were considering whether to order the
evacuation of some of those areas on 2 June…. Many London children still evacuated to the South
and South-East coasts were moved to South Wales before the end of May and during June the
remainder were sent to safer areas’109
. This was true for the Junior School boys but the Senior School
boys had to sit it out in Kent ‘watching the circus overhead’ from their ‘front seats in the stalls for
the Battle of Britain’110
. Mr Johnson was one of the Junior School boys who went to Wales. Mrs
Johnson, his widow, wrote:
They were moved to Rogerstown in Wales. This would have been a safe area except that Rogerstown
had a huge steel works. Flames of fire came out of the factory chimneys all the time, and could be
seen for miles. In an effort to conceal these flames, all round the town and round the factory oil
drums were placed. These were lit, and I understand that the smoke used to go straight up to a
certain height, and would then fan out, creating a fog, hopefully concealing the flames. What it did
do, however, is create filthy dirty smog!
Les was quite happy here, though he didn’t particularly enjoy his breakfast. Shredded wheat with
water (not milk)!
Sandy Alexander remembered the Northern Aluminium factory in Rogerstown and how it was a
target for bombs – the aluminium was used for making aeroplanes. He was billeted in a house where
he discovered the practice of ‘hot bedding’ – ‘I would be turfed out of bed in the morning once the
owner came home from his night shift at the factory!’
Junior School boys Mr Doubleday and Mr Pratt were again billeted together when they were
transferred to Rogerstown, this time staying with a Mr and Mrs Morris. In her letter to Mrs
Doubleday after the boys had left, Mrs Morris wrote asking her to ‘Thank Buster for his letter, I just
had a little weep when I read it… We both felt quite lost for a few days after he and David left,’
adding that even their dog missed the boys. She referenced the war, writing
Needless to say we have been thinking about you every day since the dreadful raids on London. We
have been having a much quieter time here, perhaps it has something to do with the fact that we now
have a balloon barrage. It was a Newport balloon which brought down a bomber on Wednesday
night.
Not surprisingly, by September, 1950, in the understated words of the HMIs helpful précis:
parents were showing a disinclination to send their boys either to Kent or to Newport and so in June,
1941, the School was again moved, this time to Rossall, where it remained until the end of the Easter
108
Smith, p20 109
Gosden, p36 110 Allison’s papers, Maidstone evacuation notes, September 1940
31
of the Summer term, 1945, reassembling with 217 boys from Rossall and approximately 400 from the
South London Emergency Secondary School.111
Escape to Rossall
At the end of 1940, Allison wrote a letter to solicit parents' views on a move to Rossall (see
Appendix). In it he explained
The difficulty about finding an alternative centre outside London was that it must be as safe as
possible, and must provide us with living quarters and teaching accommodation. Increased
evacuation from the cities has made such a centre hard to discover. After several fruitless journeys to
different parts of the country, I think I have found the most satisfactory solution to our problem.
The solution was Rossall School in Fleetwood, Lancashire. In this letter, Allison recommended the
School’s evacuation to Rossall saying,
In my view, though Rossall is some distance from London (approximately the same as Plymouth in
another direction), the advantages of a quiet life and uninterrupted schooling for your boy at such a
time as this, outweigh almost every other consideration….
What is startling is the size of the tiny tear-off permission slip at the bottom of the letter which
parents were to complete giving their (hardly insignificant) decision on whether they would wish
their son/s to join the ‘re-evacuation’.
Enough parents signed-up, and so on 6 January 1941, Alleyn’s left Maidstone for Fleetwood. The
contingent from Wales joined the Senior School on 16 January. The editors wrote:
this magazine has to record Alleyn’s second evacuation. This time we have moved much farther afield
than before; the land of hops and custard powder gives place to the land of tripe and Gracie Fields.
Mention must be made, too, of another change, no less striking, which also has affected everybody:
the change in climate. The heavy malt-laden air of Maidstone has been left behind and now we have
the crisp sea breezes of Rossall. Their bracing effect has proved too much for many members of the
school, who have succumbed to minor ailments… When we arrived at our new home, Colonel Trist,
the acting Headmaster, warned us that we were not enjoying a Typical Rossall Day if we could keep
our hats on our heads in the school corridors.
Another point, almost forgotten in the flurry of our settling-in process, is the fact that we have no air-
raids at Rossall; but a form of hockey, played on the sands, more than compensates for the
excitement and risk which they offered.112
Headmaster RB Henderson, having led the ‘Vackies’ to the wilderness of Kent, stepped down as
Headmaster of Alleyn’s and was replaced by CR Allison. Professor Donald Leinster-Mackay D 1943-
50) in his monograph Alleyn’s and Rossall Schools: The Second World War, Experience and Status,
explained that Allison’s first task was:
to bring the two scattered parts of the school together. Rossall School had been negotiating for
another public school, Westminster, to share its buildings, but arrangements fell through and Allison
eagerly seized the opportunity to secure his new school in one place.113
111
HMIs’ report, 1950, p2 112
EAM, March 1941, p398
32
Some schools almost lost their identity during the war but most – like Alleyn’s – successfully survived
a whole series of upheavals. The Board of Education were aware of this risk at the start and advised:
So far as possible the visiting school was to retain its own ‘individuality’ as a separate unit with which
its pupils were familiar although there would naturally be scope for close collaboration with the local
school.114
Alleyn’s and Rossall – as we shall see in the following pages – worked exceptionally well in their co-
existence with Allison claiming in 1944 that ‘the Alleyn’s association with Rossall was often spoken of
as the most successful of the war-time pairings of schools’115
.
End of evacuation
The government rather rashly announced the end of official evacuation on 7 September 1944, the
day before the first V2 rocket fell on London. London’s turn to be declared ‘go home’ areas finally
came on 2 May 1945, six days before VE Day. For our boys in Rossall,
The Home Guard stood down on 2nd December and all realised, some with mixed feelings, that the
days at Rossall were numbered. The Lent Term of 1945 went very quickly. On 26th March the sun
shone, ‘Alleyn’s weather’ as the natives of those parts had learned to call it over the past four years,
and the boys entered Big School for a combined final assembly. The two School Captains, Cranfield of
Alleyn’s and Peters of Rossall, expressed genuine feelings of mutual respect and goodwill in farewell
speeches. The two Headmasters echoed the same sentiments which the two Schools endorsed with
cheers for each other. Parting gifts were announced – Rossall was to present Alleyn’s with an inter-
House Cricket Trophy to be known as the ‘Rossall Shield’ and Alleyn’s would send to Rossall (when
they could be bought) wooden seats for ‘The Square’ such as the Rossalians had often envied the
Alleyn’s boys using during their stay. Approximately 200 boys and staff left Rossall and came, led by
Mr Allison, to the ‘Promised Land’.116
Casualties of war
It is surprising, when you consider the stark statistics about war-time casualties, especially in
London, that not more Alleyn’s pupils and staff were killed in the course of the war. In total, 60,595
civilians were killed by enemy action in Britain.117
For the first three years of the conflict more
women and children were killed by German action than were British soldiers.118
Of the 60,000
people killed by German bombing and (later) rocket attacks, half were in London, and 43,000 were
killed during 1940-41.119
The statistics get grimmer: in the Blitz (1940-41), children accounted for
one-in-ten deaths.
As described in the chapter on the Second World War, one Alleyn’s pupil, Peter Jenkyn, was killed as
a direct hit by enemy action. He was an Alleyn’s pupil at SLESS who was killed when his home was
struck by a V1 in 1944.
113
DLM, p7 114
Board of Education circular, August 1939, quoted in Gosden, p15 115
DLM, p29 116
Chandler, p77 117
Longmate, p133 118
Marr, Making of Modern Britain, p354 119
Ibid, p385
33
There were other deaths amongst the evacuees, but not owing to enemy action. Donald Double
(Cribb’s) died in July, 1940, ‘while the school was at Maidstone’ and Gerald Stephenson, ‘died at
Rossall, on February 6th, 1941.’120
The obituary for Gerald Stephenson said that he had ‘had a very
short illness – he had been with the Junior School on evacuation first at Deal and later in South
Wales’121
.
Given the fear, uncertainty and the chaotic time endured by boys and staff alike in the preceding six
years, it is quite easy to understand that the reunion back at Alleyn’s did indeed feel like a return to
‘the Promised Land’.
120
EAM, March 1941, p401 121
Ibid, June 1941, p436
34
Exile in Rossall
‘…my study, in Rose House, was on the second floor and its windows were partially frosted by wind-
driven sand.’ Bill Jones (R, 1935-42)
‘The Eton of the North’
Rossall School was set on the bleak, rugged Lancashire coast, with hardly a tree in sight and was
quite a change from the leafy downs of Kent for our ‘sons of the Foundation’.122
It was a boarding
school with an array of outward signs of being an English public school:
its monumental dining hall, its magnificent chapel, its Gothic style three-decker boarding houses, its
ample grounds with manicured lawns, if somewhat bare of trees, its 18th-century gazebo, Spartan
swimming pool and its Sumner Library standing in the midst of a large and open quadrangle.123
Its motto was taken from Virgil’s Aeneid: ‘Mens Agitat Molem’ [The mind stirs the mass] and one
can’t help feeling that our Alleyn’s boys certainly stirred the mass of minds up on the Fylde coast
during their three-year, two-month-stay at Rossall.
In September 1940, the boys and staff of Rossall had just returned, Aeneas-like, from their own
unsuccessful wanderings. Like many schools, Rossall’s buildings had been requisitioned for war use
and so the Rossall pupils were evacuated to Naworth Castle, a medieval pile near Carlisle. Their
experiences were not good; after a few weeks of staying at Naworth it became clear that there was
a major main problem with the drains which, like much of the Castle, were mediaeval. Derek
Winterbottom wrote that: ‘because the dormitories were overcrowded and also badly ventilated on
account of the blackout regulations (the Bursar was fined fifty shillings by the authorities in
Brampton for not observing these sufficiently),’ there was an outbreak of
a virulent streptococcal infection. Six boys had to be taken to a nursing home in Carlisle, and three
underwent operations. At Naworth [the Headmaster] Young had to convert a wing into a hospital
ward… as boy after boy fell victim to disease.
The doctors, surgeons and nurses worked hard to stave off disaster: between them they succeeded,
but as the Headmaster of Rossall Charles Young admitted ‘they kept death away from Naworth,
though he came extremely near.’124
These weren’t the only problems the authorities at Rossall were facing. Mrs Johnson remembers
that
Years later… the Headmaster [of Rossall] told us the story of how the school re-opened after the long
summer holiday of 1939 – only to find they had barely any students! Rossall was the type of good
school that parents working and living abroad… sent their sons back home for a first class English
education. No parent would send their son back home to a country that was at war – so Rossall had
barely any pupils!
122
EAM, November 1939, p283 123
Donald Leinster-Mackay, p10 124
Winterbottom, p99
35
This boded well for the wandering sons of Alleyn’s who were looking for a united and safe war-time
home: within weeks of the Rossall boys’ return to their school in Fleetwood, the governing body of
Rossall [the Council] was asked by the Board of Education to give a home to Alleyn’s School. This was
welcome news to the Council who had been struggling with financial crises since the 1930s as Rossall
would receive rent for their visitors’ accommodation. It was agreed that Alleyn’s would pay 6s a
week for each resident boy and 2s for non-residents, with 8s for resident masters, plus a shilling a
week per boy for use of the dining-hall.125
The Acting Headmaster, Leslie Trist,
was required to reorganise the Rossall boarding houses in order to make room for the Londoners
from the beginning of the January term in 1941. Alleyn’s were given the use of the Headmaster’s
House, James House, and the three boarding houses closest to the Archway – Rose, Spread Eagle and
Crescent … Alleyn’s used the Mod. [sic] Schools classrooms and clever timetabling enabled them to
use the Chapel, laboratories, gym, swimming-bath and tuck shop at different times and to live a
separate existence on the same campus. Fortunately Trist and Allison got on well together – indeed
Trist described Allison as ‘one in a 1000’ – and the two Common Rooms mingled on social occasions
quite cordially. 126
Winterbottom writes that ‘the Rossall boys seemed to get on well with these “London
intellectuals”’127
. However, he cites one of Rossall’s school monitors, one Ben Strahan (later British
Ambassador to the Yemen, Lebanon and Algeria) who felt that,
the two schools worked together harmoniously enough but there was no serious attempt to
fraternise because, in his view, most Rossallians at that class-conscious time considered the Alleynians
[sic], with their off-Cockney accents, to be beneath them by a social class or two.’128
Whilst these sentiments make this reader wince somewhat, it is clear from notes Allison made at the
time ahead of speaking to his staff about the move to Rossall, that he too was conscious of a
possible social divide between the Alleyn’s day-boys and the Rossall boarding school boys.
We shall be sharing the buildings with another school whose boys have been brought up in the
boarding school tradition. We may expect them to be wealthier and more self-assured than our boys.
It will be important that from the first, Alleyn’s should feel that it has much to give to as well as take
from the partnership, that perhaps our fellows should have certain peculiar advantages that may have
the effect of redressing any natural feelings of inferiority.
And, as if steeling himself to see this challenge through, Allison steadies his troops:
There is much of course that cannot be decided now: it can only come as the result of trial and a
certain amount of error I daresay. I don’t think that that will matter provided that we have the right
attitude ourselves towards this experiment and can instil something of it into the boys,
before rallying:
It is, as I have said before, a piece of positive and creative educational work in a world given over the
destruction. It has some of the refreshing qualities of the irrelevant and the eccentric. It is I believe
something of an adventure and will demand certain of the pioneering and frontier virtues in its
125
Council Minutes, 1931 cited in Winterbottom, p105 126
Winterbottom, p105 127
Ibid 128
Ibid, p108
36
accomplishment: loyalty to a common cause and a zest for improvisation. I hope you will take it as a
compliment when I say that when I came last September it was with the hope that our problems
might be solved in just this fashion, but it was only after getting to know you that the hope became a
possibility.
This is a clear admission by Allison of an extemporising approach to the war-time education and care
of his charges. The education historian, Professor Peter Gosden, in his reflection of the education
children received during the war comments that
one of the more intangible gains which contemporary reports frequently mentioned was the
broadening of human interests and the more intimate association and growing understanding
between teachers and children sharing a common experience in new surroundings.129
Sandy Alexander (B 1938-47) identified that ‘what we lacked were staff with boarding experience.
We didn’t have matrons. It was very much a new experience for everyone’. Mr Alexander went on to
describe Rossall as ‘a mixed experience. We took over half of Rossall’s School. They didn’t want us
and we didn’t want to be there. There was a sort of truce.’
Rossalleyn’s ventures
At our Memories Day reunion, Derek Smith (not at Rossall) brought in a newspaper cutting
of 1941, which is headed up 'Rossall' and it’s from the Sunday Times: The arrival of Alleyn's School
from Dulwich was the chief feature of the Lent Term at Rossall. Both schools have kept their
individuality, but both boys and masters have met on friendly terms and, although differences of code
have prevented them meeting at games other than athletics, the schools have joined for many out of
school activities, such as musical recitals, chess clubs and philatelic societies.
The magazine recounted many incidents of Alleyn’s and Rossall coming together on various
enterprises, even creating a combined noun – ‘Rossalleyns’ – for themselves, for example, ‘a
Rossalleyns show was presented by the cream of both schools’130
. But few were recalled by our
visitors. In March 1943 the schools held an International Forum in a bid to redress the charge that
‘our life as members of a boarding school community was robbing us to some extent of the
opportunity to make contact with the outside world, and current affairs in general.’ Representatives
from the Allied countries came to ‘lecture to both Rossall and Alleyn’s Schools about their respective
countries. They would endeavour also to outline the part each country would play in the great post-
war plan of world reconstruction.’131
A year later another of ‘our joint educational experiments with Rossall’ took the shape of an Anglo-
American Weekend. The rationale behind it was to try to learn more about the United States’ given
there were so many US troops based in Britain at the time, and in turn, ‘to give the chance to a few
Americans to learn the truth about us, about our real friendship for them as allies,’ interesting final
point given Allison’s earlier reservations, ‘and about English Public School life’132
. This weekend was
remembered by Gerry Thain (Tn 1938-44):
129
Gosden, p75 130
EAM, June 1941, p451 131
Ibid, May 1943, p35 132
Ibid, May 1944, p108
37
There was a visit from USA soldiers, VERY memorable. It was a weekend of various functions. We had
a very interesting time talking to these chaps and a very enjoyable weekend. There was a lane
opposite the front entrance to the school. A straight lane. I remember them taking me in a jeep down
this lane. Whether it was 80mph or 100 it was certainly the fastest I’d ever been and ever went for a
long time.
Education at Rossall
Peter Philpott (B 1934-43) wrote that ‘Life at Rossall for my seven terms there was very full, and
provided me with a more rounded education than would otherwise have been possible and for
which I have always been grateful.’ At our reunion, Gerry Thain told our interviewers that:
I absolutely loved Rossall. I felt privileged having a study. Sharing it with other boys… I liked the life
there. I remember getting money to buy paint to decorate our study walls. What a marvellous life!
John Merrill (R 1942-48) reminded us that ‘there was a war on, and, I didn’t get to Rossall until 1944.
So when I got up there it was very nice to have a good night’s sleep. My mother’s house got bombed
three times! And so when I did get evacuated up there it was like Heaven!’
Frank Halford (R 1942-49) found that by being in the relative safety of Rossall during the war ‘was a
good thing for me, because being up at Rossall you had, in the evening, Prep which you did.’
Professor Leinster-Mackay commented that events in the boys’ lives took on ‘an institutional
character’. When pressed on their prep and cheek by jowl existence by our interviewers, our visitors
expanded:
Frank Halford: It’s not necessarily an ethos, it was merely the fact that you had to do it [prep]. You
know, there was no getting out of it.
John Merrill: You were in the same environment, all the time.
Frank Halford: Everybody’s doing it, all at the same time, in the common room, you have the House
Master or House prefect invigilating, supervising, you do it. And you’re there.
Peter Reeve (C 1941-48) said that ‘‘everything revolved around the school’.
The question of how to occupy the boys’ time at Rossall was paramount in Allison’s mind as he
prepared his notes for his speech about the move from Maidstone to Rossall to his colleagues.
There is no fundamental difference of opinion between a good day school and a good boarding
school: the difference is one of degree. Both aim at the same end – the production of a happy and
intelligent man who shall, if possible, be a good citizen as well, but whereas the day school can
foment the ?process? [illegible] for at most 36 hours a week leaving the rest to chance and the
parent, the boarding school can command, and has to plan, for 24 hours of every day in the term. It is
this extension of responsibility that is our real agenda this evening.
It is not to be supposed of course that the School should or could monopolise the whole of a boy’s
time at Rossall: his own devices will be as important to his education there as elsewhere. On the other
hand we have got to arrange the ratio of work to games, games to quiet occupations, quiet
occupations to entirely free time, to include Sundays as well as week-days in our timetable, to think of
the term as the unit both for ourselves and the boys..
38
Dulwich traditions
Throughout the evacuation period, the magazine reporters hark back to the pre-war standard of the
School’s sporting prowess. In May 1944, the reporters lament:
The general standard of PT continues to improve, but it is not yet as good as it could be, principally
because it lacks the support of the whole school. If more support were given to this essential part of
the school’s activities it might reach the old Dulwich standard.133
Many of the Dulwich traditions were seized upon to bolster the delicate structure of Alleyn’s in exile.
In 1943, the magazine writers painted a nostalgic picture of Founder’s Day in ‘the Great Hall,
Dulwich, packed to capacity with AOBs and parents awaiting the start of the Founder’s Day concert.’
The reality was Rossall, and ‘despite the different surroundings, the same atmosphere was
maintained, and we had the feeling that yet another of the Dulwich traditions had been saved.’134
In
reading the magazines I was surprised to learn how many AOBs visited Alleyn’s in its peregrinations.
The Alleyn’s House-system came into its own with Houses doubling up in Rossall’s boarding
houses.135
The boys arose in the morning as one to the sound of the bugler playing reveille, washed or showered
and dressed and at night congregated in customary places for prep before assembling for evening
prayers and bedtime with the bugler signalling ‘lights-out’ with a rendering of ‘Last Post’. During these
years the corporate spirit, the esprit de corps of a boarding house was imbued in the lives of the
boys.136
This constant bugling did not go unnoticed by their Rossall fellows. In the Rossallian, one pupil
complained:
I write to you to request that something may be done. I refer to the amazing system of bugle blowing
at present in vogue among the members of Alleyn’s School. When our visitors first came amongst us, I
am sure we all welcomed the innovation…. Now bugles sound all hours of the day and upon the very
slightest pretext. This, to say the very least of it, is disconcerting…. Daily the reveille becomes earlier
and earlier, and daily the great Rossall public becomes angrier and angrier.137
In Allison’s notes for his speech to the staff about the move to Rossall he demonstrated that he
shared Henderson’s vision of the importance of public school in maintaining order:
On the one hand that very community life [of a boarding school] is going to give us our biggest
chance. Mr Middleton Murray138
in a recent book accused the secondary schools of failing to produce
the many leaders that democracy needs. I am not prepared altogether to admit the accusation, but, if
there is a real luck in some quarters today of people ready to shoulder responsibility it is perhaps
because there are too few who receive the right kind of training for it. The successful running of a
boarding school house implies a great deal of wise delegation of authority. Dormitories, bath-rooms,
133
Ibid, May 1944, p96 134
Ibid, November 1943, p62 135
Brading’s and Tulley’s became Crescent House; Cribb’s and Roper’s became Rose House; Brown’s and
Dutton’s were The Hall; and Spurgeon’s and Tyson’s became Rose House; the Junior School was housed in
James House. 136
DLM, p2 137
AJE Besch quoted in DLM, pp26-27 138
If John Middleton Murry (1889-1957), writer and critic.
39
studies, day-rooms resolve themselves into new administrative departments and the smallest boy in
the House easily realises that their organisation cannot be left to a single head or even a small group
of prefects at the top. There is no reason why everyone in a House of 40 should not have real and
regular services to perform for the community in which he lives.
Pastimes
Our guests were quizzed about how they spent their free time at Rossall. Micky Stewart (T, 1944-51)
remembered that there were ‘various societies, weren’t there? There was music and drama, there
was always something going on. Everything really revolved around the School.’ Mr Halford added ‘I
don’t think we were ever bored’.
John Merrill confessed to horse-riding, explaining to his fellow AOBs’ surprise:
There was a gentleman who wanted youngsters like me to go and exercise his horses. I used to do
that on a Saturday afternoon. On a Sunday morning, when I’d skipped off Puff Smith, who was music
master at the time and was responsible for all that went on, he used to have a choral practice and he
always said ‘even if you can’t sing and can’t play an instrument, when you’re older at least you’ll
recognise the tune’ – and I think he was right in that. Anyway, I always used to put my hand up after
half an hour and I think he thought I was going for a pee…. And I used to get on my bike and go and
ride the horses. So I’m ashamed to say that I was one of the naughty ones.
Micky Stewart: What age were you when you were riding the horses?
John Merrill: I came up to Rossall in 1944, so I would have been 14.
Peter Reeve: It’s amazing what you find out after 60 years, I had no idea!
Mr Thain recalled getting ‘a cup of coffee in Cleveleys for just four pence. There was a tuck shop
beside the neighbouring shooting range. I remember we used to pick up the cartridges from the
rifles and use them as money when we played cards.’
In the magazine of October 1941, the writers reported on the Bear Pit’s reading of JB Priestley’s
When We are Married declaring it ‘the most successful of our readings’, adding, ‘the success of the
play was largely achieved by the convincing display of assumed Lancashire accents, which we have
had so many opportunities of acquiring up here…’.139
(For more information about the musical,
dramatic, sporting and debating activities of the boys, please refer to relevant chapters.)
Some of the boys took their bicycles to Rossall. Three even cycled back to London on them. Dr
Philpott and his friend John Larcombe, both keen cyclists, returned to London at the end of the
Easter term 1941. ‘We cycled from Rossall back to Dulwich. We took 2 ½ days for the 260 miles and
enjoyed the journey very much. The roads were very quiet and we had to work hard at our map-
reading as there were no signposts or place names anywhere during the war for security reasons. At
the end of the summer term we repeated the journey, but this time we cycled up to the Lake District
first and then crossed the Pennines to reach the A1 road which we followed to London (we returned
to Rossall by train on each occasion!)’ Mrs Johnson relayed the pitiful account of how the 12-year-
old Les made the same journey on two wheels:
When Les was about 12 his father was in the army, and Leslie’s mother was very hard up. He wrote
home asking if she would send him the fare to London so that he could go home for the Easter
holidays. She replied saying how sorry she was, but she couldn’t afford the fare for just two weeks’
139
Ibid, October 1941, p489
40
holiday. She would send him the fare for the long summer holiday, of course. Les was so upset to find
he was the only boy left in the school that he got his bike out and rode all the way back to London!
The dinner ladies made him a large wad of sandwiches, and told him to take a blanket as well as his
cycle cape. This was worth its weight in gold to him as he had to sleep rough at nights. On the fourth
night some lorry drivers took pity on him when they learned the huge distance he was riding. They let
him sleep in the back of their lorry and treated him to supper! Les always spoke of the tremendous
sense of achievement when he came to the top of Highgate Hill, and could see London and St Paul’s
dome set out before him! ‘I’ve made it!’
David Wallace (C 1941-46) spent much of his time ‘involved in technical support and maintenance
[of sport & drama], e.g. helping mow pitches, stage fittings/electrics…. I helped maintain the School
as there was a shortage of skilled men. I also caught rats and once recovered a dead airman from the
sea.’ This was remembered by our guests: Mr Merrill explained that
Not a mile away [from Rossall] was an American dive bombing range. And they had this thing that
they were trying to dive on. And I remember when I was there, there were two of them who didn’t
make it. And then they were washed up on the beach a couple of days later.
As has been related earlier, the boys did not operate in a vacuum away from the communities in
which they lived or from the war. Chandler wrote that
Alleyn’s had not become isolated at Fleetwood, it had become part of the community, associating
itself with local events and special war efforts. In Fleetwood’s ‘Wings for Victory’ and ‘Salute the
Soldier’ weeks Alleyn’s played its full part. During half terms and some of the holidays, the boys would
help on local farms and really proved their worth.140
At Speech Day in 1944, held at Rossall, the Mayor of Fleetwood, Tom Roberts, JP, took the chair at
Prize-giving. Allison took the opportunity to recognise the friends Alleyn’s had made on the Fylde. He
pointed out that the presence of the Mayor of Fleetwood was symbolic of the kindness and interest
that the School had met with everywhere since its arrival at Rossall and went on to give thanks to the
many friends of Alleyn’s in Cleveleys and Blackpool as well. He recalled that Alleyn’s association with
Rossall was often spoken of as the most successful of the wartime pairing of Schools and said that the
forbearance and cordiality we had met with took their tone from the lead given by Mr Young
[Headmaster] and Col Trist [Acting Headmaster].141
Again, returning to Allison’s speech to his staff on the eve of the move to Rossall, he debates why a
parent, during war-time, should send his or her 14-year-old142
son to Alleyn’s at Rossall.
What can we offer? What are we hoping to give in exchange for the £70 or £80 a year the boy might
otherwise be earning? I think we are trying to give an added chance of happiness. By stealing one year
or two from the beginning of his working life we are trying to add a little lustre to the other 41. We
offer responsibility in small things to prepare for greater, we offer a further two years, and a most
sensitive two years in an atmosphere where spiritual values are important, we offer a further period
of preparation for the time when these same values will have to be defended against the wiles of the
devil and the propagandist; we offer the chance to learn to do a job of work for its own sake… And I
140
Chandler, p76 141
EAM, November 1944, p126 142
This was the school leaving age at the time
41
say that such a programme as this, particularly for the boy between 14 & 18, is easier to work out in a
boarding than in a day school.
May I end with a quotation from WB Yeats which is the counterpart of the Vicar of Bexley’s sermon of
last Sunday week? ‘….in the beginning of important things – in the beginning of any work – there is a
moment when we understand more perfectly than we understand again until all is finished.’ It is this
Olympian preview of the situation that I hope we may be able to take this evening.
Welfare of the boys
The wives of various masters acted as ‘aunts’ to the boys under their husbands’ care. There are
various mentions of Mrs Bate and Mrs Spring in the magazine for their efforts in keeping the boys
fed and cared for under trying times. In the valete for Albert Spring, the Headmaster of the Junior
School [‘James House’ at Rossall], Mrs Spring is mentioned ‘at Rossall [where] she acted as Matron,
Nurse and Mother to the boys of James House.’143
In November 1943, James House reported that:
At the end of the school year we feel that we must record our grateful thanks to Mrs Spring for all her
motherly care at all times of the day (and night), to Mrs Bate for her provision of such excellent meals
in spite of all ration difficulties, and to Dorothy, our house maid, for all her good work in the House.144
Our visitors remembered the maids…. Mr Dann remembered ‘the sixth form boys used to meet on
the promenade of an evening with the maids who served in the dining room’. Mr Stewart regaled us
with a tale:
I don’t know whether I should tell this story, but when I went I joined one or two days before my 11th
birthday, and the boys who were the new intake up to Rossall went two or three days before the
school began. And you were met at the station, wherever it was going up north, and we were taken
up by the School Vice-Captain (I’m not going to say any names). And there he was in a black Alleyn’s
blazer, stiff collar and tie, and my mother said ‘Michael, if you turn out like that boy there I shall be
forever proud of you for all my life’. And that boy didn’t see the end of term, because he made one of
the parlour maids pregnant!
Happily Mrs Stewart had plenty of other reasons to be proud of her son with his long international
cricketing career.
The health of the boys – like the weather – was a frequent subject covered by the magazine. Writing
as if reassuring over-anxious parents about their sons, the editors report that
Generally speaking, the health of [James] House has been very good this term. Of course there have
been the usual minor complaints – chills, bilious attacks (usually the result of over-indulgence in
‘tuck’) and the various ailments which necessitate the application of a bandage.145
And even when a more serious illness – scarlet fever – hit the boys, it is still reported in a jolly, albeit
whimsical style:
143
EAM, November 1949, p601. In 1941, the EAM reported the death of Mr and Mrs Spring’s daughter, Mary.
Could it be that Mrs Spring’s motherly devotion to the boys at Rossall went in some way to assuage her grief
for her own child? 144
Ibid, November 1943, p58 145
Ibid, March 1942, p508
42
This term a scarlet spectre stalked the school, leaving its mark on study after study, passing its six
weeks’ sentence irrespective of age or position. Thirty-one times its dismal tumbrel conveyed a
further victim to Moss Side Isolation Hospital. It caused many pints of gargle to splash and gurgle in
many apprehensive throats. It decreed the segregation of Alleyn’s and Rossall: separate entrances to
the dining hall, different hours at the tuck-shop. Nothing seemed to stop the coming and going of that
little red van with its musty odour of disinfectant; and even as this goes to press some last victim of
the ‘fever’s reign’ of power spends Christmas in the grim confines of Moss Side and the New Year in
the draughty emptiness of the Sanitorium.146
One of our AOBs was a victim of the ‘scarlet spectre’. John Burley (D 1942-48) ‘joined the new intake
in September 1942 and was accommodated in James House with the other 27 new boys. Within the
first week I contracted scarlet fever and spent my first term in the Moss Side isolation hospital. It
was there that I met Laurie Andrews who has been my closest friend to this day’.
Mr Thain remembered this sanatorium as being ‘just behind the back of the promenade. I was in the
sanatorium once with mumps and once with chicken pox. It was at the very edge of the grounds.
You could walk out and be on the sea front. A bleak place.’ Mr Alexander made regular visits to the
santatorium: ‘I was in the sanatorium frequently because of boils on back of the neck.’ When he
went back home to London, he would get the train ‘from Blackpool North to Euston, [and] my
parents were appalled by the ragamuffin that came off the train. My clothes were in tatters.’
When we asked what Mr Wallace remembered most about Alleyn’s, he replied ‘All being in it
together. The malnutrition and associated ill health.’
Food
Mr Reeve remembered the food at Rossall – it ‘was absolutely and utterly poor. It was the most
diabolical, revolting muck’ – hardly surprising given the shortages and rationing. Mr Stewart told us
about his first breakfast at Rossall. It was a
bit of the old porridge, and I looked down at it, and there was a bit of a hump in the middle of it.
Turned out to be black! It’s the biggest black beetle I’d ever seen! And I was so hungry that I ate
around it!
Mr Thain described the communal dining at Rossall:
Going into the dining hall everyday; and I remember breakfast – I was in Spread Eagle House and the
dining hall was on the other side of the quadrangle, so in the morning you’d run across the
quadrangle to get your breakfast. I remember that we’d sit something like a dozen on a table with the
master at one end. You’d sit down at your meal and one boy would be given the job of dividing the
butter. It was their job to mark it with a knife; the chap who got the last portion got the smallest. You
didn’t have a lot of choice. I was spoilt as a child and I didn’t like milk puddings. But at Rossall you
didn’t get much to eat so it was eat or starve really. I remember one experience when we had prunes
and custard and the custard jug came down and I looked inside and I thought ‘Oh, wow! Look there’s
a prune in the custard!’ So I poured a bit more and out emerged a cockroach. So I didn’t eat it after
that. I think it went back down the table at the end.
146
Ibid, January 1943, pp4-5
43
For Mr Halford it was the smell which evoked his memory of cooking; on a visit back to Rossall he,
‘walked into the dining hall – that superb looking building – and that smell hit me! It was the same
smell. It was ling! Do you remember ling? Who eats ling today!? It’s a revolting kind of fish. But
ling…eugh.’
But the food was not always so dire. In the Lammas Term of 1944, when the boys had to stay up
over the summer holidays in Rossall because of the bombing in London (see below), Mr Reeve
remembered the silver-lining to this hardship: ‘they brought in this Italian chef from the hotel. Aah!
[Sighing in happy recollection.] We ate like fighting cocks. You’d never seen anything like it, honestly
the food! We couldn’t believe it! How could it be like that yesterday and it’s like this now! It was
fantastic. You know, beautiful cakes, everything!’
Lammas term
From 5 July-8 September 1944, 118,000 children were evacuated to areas of safety because of the
new threat of flying bombs147
. The Board of Education asked HMIs to encourage local education
authorities in the reception areas to arrange activities for the evacuees ‘during the forthcoming
summer hols… The schools were to be kept open if at all possible’.148
The Alleyn’s boys at Rossall
were duly discouraged from returning to London so stayed on at Rossall over the summer. At the
reunion, Mr Halford brought the letter which was sent to parents explaining what the Lammas Term
was:
Lammas Term is the name of the period that we’ve given from August the 1st to September the 7th
[1944]. We are working rather differently in the hours of the school. We have increased the variety in
every boy’s activities outside the classroom without sacrificing important periods. The boys have
responded very well indeed and not losing heart.’
Some boys, ‘under the charge of Mr Smith, spent a week at Langdale in the Lake District’149
. Mr
Reeve remembered the gym being open all the time for their use.
Out-houses
It was just after this Lammas Term that our boys had to move again. The North West was being
recognised as a safe place to send children and so Rossall became an attractive prospect for parents
who wished to send their boys to boarding school. In September 1944, following the Ministry of
Health’s announcement that it planned to suspend the general evacuation scheme, Alleyn’s
announced its intention to return to London. Rossall therefore offered places to some 324 senior
school boys for the September term of 1944 but then it became apparent that Hitler was not yet
finished in London. He countered the success of the allied invasion of Normandy with a vicious
campaign of V1 and V2 rocket attacks on the capital.
This meant that it was not safe for Alleyn’s to return after all, which caused a serious overcrowding
problem at Rossall. The not entirely satisfactory solution was that Alleyn’s had to give up Spread
Eagle and Rose as boarding houses and move to hotels in Fleetwood.150
147
Gosden, p60 148
Memorandum to Inspectors, 22 July, 1944, quoted in Gosden, p60 149
EAM, March 1945, p148
44
This marked Eric Buisson’s (C 1941-49) favourite time at Rossall: ‘the period when we were billeted
in a small hotel at Thornton Cleveleys on the promenade by the sea. We had to walk along the
promenade every morning and return every evening to go for lessons at Rossall School.’ These
hotels were referred to by the magazine editors as ‘out-houses’. Upbeat to the end, they reported:
We soon adapted ourselves to the unusual and exacting routine which this change necessitated, and
by next term we shall have made ourselves very comfortable. The promise of a speedy return to
London had greatly helped us to bear difficulties with a light heart, but the hope of our return in April
will serve no less to ease our burdens in the coming term, and we are confident that we shall make a
success of it.151
They were not to return to Dulwich’s ‘promised land’ until March 1945.
Return
And cheery to the end, ‘Shy’ writes of Alleyn’s departure from Rossall:
Rossall fades but
Often in our minds we remember.
Never to be forgotten:
Sunshine, breeze, and darkness,
Wind, rain, and happiness.
Towers red, chapel grey,
And friendships made.
Four years passed,
Four years of life.
Wasted? No!
Worth it? Yes!152
Hall House [Dutton’s & Brown’s] wrote as its final magazine piece:
Now we close the book. We have had our moments, we have fought our battles. On looking back at
the Hall with its music, its hopes for the future, its garden, its ‘maniac nights’, its committee, its
importations, its boxing, its exile and, throughout, its maintained individuality and struggle, we
consider its darker days and survey with satisfaction its ultimo triumph, and we advised convincedly
‘Rebus angustis animosus atque fortis appare’153
.
After six years in exile, Alleyn’s came back to a building occupied by strangers. Since March 1940, the
South London Emergency Secondary School (SLESS) had been using the buildings on Townley Road.
Roy Barnes wrote that ‘half SLESS's complement of staff and pupils were Alleyn's remainders and
integrating them back into the body of people returning from Rossall that autumn was far from
easy’154
. In the valete for Hudson, the writer remarked that on Hudson’s promotion to headmasterial
150
Winterbottom, p113 151
EAM, March 1945, p146 152
Ibid, July 1945, p188 153
Ibid, July 1945, p173; ‘Wisely show yourself spirited and resolute when perils press you.’ (Horace) 154
Barnes, p96
45
duties: ‘A task of major proportions faced him in welding together some 150 boys who returned
from Rossall with the 500 boys of the South London Emergency Secondary School’155
.
The boys weren’t the only strangers: masters returned from the Forces and were unknown to both
sets of boys. Equally, these masters did not know where the boys had spent the war years.
In his notes for the first assembly back at the Alleyn’s building, Allison ended his speech with hopes
for an end to the war:
We are all awaiting momentous news. That may interrupt with two days of public holiday.
Therefore get down to the job efficiently – learn your way about – find out where you should be –
make yourself useful.
You have all something to give to Alleyn’s.
If you give it this Trinity Term 1945 will be the happy and successful one that I wish you all.
On Mr Stewart’s return from Rossall he was surprised by the SLESS boys’ difference in attitude to the
School:
I was only 11 or 12 at Rossall, so at a very young age, but as I said everything revolved around the
School. After being back here, there was that feeling of loyalty to the School. So come four o’clock, my
best mate at the time – a chap called Bob Bedford, we used to stand at the gate and people used to
come out and we’d say, ‘where are you going?’ They’d say, ‘we’re going home,’ and we’d say ‘well,
what about going to this society or why don’t you do that?’
We found it difficult to understand that there was, in a way, another life outside the School, by
comparison with the 24-hour day that we had had at Rossall. And that was the feeling for the school,
really. No matter whether it was sport, or any society, or drama, it was… we found it difficult to
understand that they didn’t look at it the same way, when you came back here. Because the School,
SLESS, it represented a number of schools, didn’t it – it wasn’t just Alleyn’s – so it showed how much…
the school meant to us.
For Mr Halford, Rossall stood him in good stead for joining the forces: ‘I noticed that the big
difference was when I joined the army, because it was such a surprise to me that so many people of
my company there were homesick because they’d never been away from home before.’
The Rossall years were not to be easily forgotten. At Founder’s Day in 1949, there was an exhibition
of photographs under the title ‘Dulwich and Rossall’ held in the Library. The magazine editors
reported that ‘it was great fun to see again the scenes which were so familiar to us. You could always
tell those that had been to Rossall, because their conversations invariably began with “do you
remember…?”.’ 156
155
EAM, November 1963, p76 156
Ibid, November 1949, p604
46
The South London Emergency Secondary School:
a strange child of the war��
Emergency schools
As we have seen, the Alleyn’s pupils whose families wished them to join the School’s official
evacuation to a reception area (Maidstone) went in September 1939. However, not all pupils left
Dulwich.
Andrew Marr points out in his book The Making of Modern Britain that, in fact, ‘fewer than half
those eligible to be evacuated actually went. Many refused to believe the imminence of the threat.
Other families decided that, if they were to be killed, they preferred to die together.’157
The
government felt it had a duty to provide an education for those children remaining in the evacuated
areas – but it didn't want to undermine its evacuation scheme. An announcement was made in the
Houses of Lords and Commons on 1 November 1939 that some of the schools in the evacuated areas
would be re-opened. However, the government emphasised the need for local education authorities
and teachers 'to use all their influence to prevent the return of children from reception areas.'158
SLESS
We entered only by the North stair and did not use the top floor (though it was sometimes explored –
there was a stuffed tiger up there).159
Alleyn’s School historian and SLESS-boy himself, Arthur Chandler (Bn 1941-48), explained what had
been happening to those Alleyn’s boys left behind:
Masters and others had educated those not evacuated in private houses and local halls. Henderson
felt that the boys in London should have a proper education and sent Hack and Tyson to re-open the
Alleyn’s building. This was undertaken not only to educate Alleyn’s boys who wished to remain in
London but also, in conjunction with the London County Council Education Department, to offer a
Grammar School education to others whose schools were evacuated but did not themselves wish to
leave London. SLESS kept Alleyn’s buildings alive.160
And so, ‘March 18th
, 1940, saw parents entering their boys as members of the South London
Emergency Secondary School, a strange child of the war.’161
Alan Thomas (SLESS 1940-41)
remembered his first day at the SLESS:
It was chaotic – there were boxes, we were given things to identify our ‘House’ – a new concept for
me! I can just about remember I was assigned to Allison House. The first days at SLESS were scary – I’d
been away from normal education for perhaps a year – and I thought of it as a public school. My
brother had been to Alleyn’s itself for some years, and I’d gained an impression of rigour! The notion
of Latin and sports appeared daunting…. It was war-time, an emergency, disorganisation and changes
were accepted. But it was a pleasant sort of chaos – interesting, novel, unpredictable.
157
Marr, Making of Modern Britain, p360 158
Board of Education circular, 1483, 11 November 1939, quoted in Gosden, p22 159
Dr Norman Wetherick (B, 1941-48) 160
Chandler, p79 161
EAM, July 1945, p176
47
Regular reports from SLESS (written by ‘T’; perhaps Charles Tyson?) began in the magazine from June
1940, where it justified its appearance amongst the magazine’s pages:
Once a term the call of late has rung out in Maidstone, to be echoed in Deal, and now it is heard again
from older haunts. The S.L.E.S.S., recruited and commissioned at headquarters, is thriving and
developing. On the rolls there are members of 17 schools, and 11 Masters from six schools, but since
Alleyn’s is represented by some 70 strong, we are pleased to be allowed to appear in the Edward
Alleyn Magazine. Yes, there are fellows here from all the Alleyn Houses as well as the Junior School,
and most of them have come back from ‘Somewhere in England’…. There were no books, no
stationery, no rules, no tradition, everyone new to the game, whereas now, after a short four weeks,
the visitor will find a smoothly working school. We are not yet by any means satisfied, but hope to
improve in many ways. There will be no cricket this summer, for we have neither the equipment nor
the ability to do the game justice. All the same, there will be no lack of exercise and relaxation, since
we are to have swimming, physical training, basket ball, and base-ball. The buildings, which looked so
forlorn and deserted when we came, are now living again. It is indeed very pleasant to see our fields
looking so green and fat, and rest is surely a fine thing for them…. Our elms have gone162
and the
planes along the crescent have been pollarded, so the view from the library is rather different. Still,
there is a feeling that our old grounds are inviting inspection – they are looking well…. The old place,
always the same place, is awaiting the return of its real owners, and in the meantime, as an advance
guard, we hope we are doing something, not only for ourselves, but also in preparation for the happy
day when we shall all be together again.163
The country’s emergency school-system had become well-established by the end of July 1940 with
152,000 pupils on the rolls of 605 schools. Back in Dulwich, in 1941 there were 240 boys on the
SLESS roll (of whom 114 were Alleyn’s boys), and by May 1944 there were 460 (‘Alleyn’s forming the
larger half’164
). By the end of the war, SLESS was – in comparison with Alleyn’s at Rossall where
numbers never rose above 200 – the much larger school.
Fluctuating rolls
Numbers on the SLESS roll fluctuated throughout the period. Chandler explained that:
Throughout the war there had been a slow but continuous two-way traffic of boys – some wanted to
‘go home’ and therefore returned to Dulwich with education at Townley Road, a few ‘did not like the
bombs’ and left London for Rossall. By 1944 Alleyn’s numbers in Lancashire had declined
considerably.165
In areas where the bombing had been severe, school attendance dropped to a very low level. In
Southwark it varied from 0 to 5%. In secondary schools attendance varied from 10% to 50%
depending on the area.166
Defying these statistics, the magazine noted in June 1941 that ‘our
average attendance [is] nearly 100%,’ which was ‘much better, we are told, than that of any other of
our emergency schools.’167
Towards the end of 1941, SLESS was beginning to feeling confident in
itself:
162
Chandler writes that these were ‘felled by a blast’, p79 163
EAM, June 1940, p351 164
Ibid, May 1944, p100 165
Chandler, p76 166
Gosden, p41 167
EAM, June 1941, p439
48
This despatch from the South-eastern front finds us more firmly established than ever. The word
‘emergency’ has almost ceased to have any significance for us and we are more and more inclined to
consider ourselves a well-established school. This is inevitable since there are now so many boys
attached to us from schools which they have never known; at the same time we do try hard to
prepare for the day when each shall return to his own, and we hope that no boy will be the worse for
the time he spends in these emergency surroundings. Traditions and customs have formed and grown
with us as they do in schools. The House system is strongly rooted and discipline is based largely on an
efficient body of prefects, whilst the life of the school has so well developed that masters and boys
this term agreed that we should have a School Captain. AK Cooper (Tn) has been elected to this
office.’168
War in Dulwich
War was ever-present. The magazine related that ‘School work is done in the form-rooms, the
shelters and at home, with many of the boys showing courage and determination in carrying on
when they might readily be excused for letting things drift’169
. Ron Smale (B 1940-46) remembered
that
School was conducted, as far as possible, in a normal fashion. The spirit of ‘Carry on Britain’ was
generally upheld. Many masters still wore gowns; for the boys strict, respective school uniforms with
caps were enforced; and football and cricket continued to be played, despite arriving one morning to
discover a big bomb crater adjacent to the top-side pitch. Time was lost to air-raids, when we retired
to the basement, and maths lessons with ‘Teddy’ Eayrs were forsaken, on occasions, in the pursuit of
digging for victory on the corner of the playing fields.
Bruce Cox (Tn 1941-44) remembered the war-time disruptions at SLESS:
for a short period the school’s opening time varied depending upon whether or not there had been a
raid the night before. As we came from a very wide area and the sirens were not necessarily sounded
across it, this proved not to be very practical. I usually biked to school with a friend ‘Eddie’ Edwards,
who lived nearby but he was seldom ready and often we arrived only just in time. Fortunately he was
also late on the morning of 12th July 1944. At about the moment we should have been going along
Gallery Road, a flying bomb dropped near the Dulwich Picture Gallery, causing it serious damage.
Luckily, we were late that morning.170
Archly wagging his finger, Chandler declared that in spite of these disruptions, ‘academic work was,
however, the main reason for attendance and this was not forgotten. On some days more lessons
would be taken in the basement (the air-raid shelter) than in the classroom, owing to enemy air
activity.’171
Mr Cox explained the air-raid drill for our pupil-interviewers:
During a raid the Form Captain sat nearest the door at the front and the Vice-Captain at the back at
the diagonal corner; when the siren went – whether there was a master there or not – the Form
Captain led the way out and the Vice-Captain closed the door, it was emphasised that he had to shut
the door.
168
EAM, October 1941, p474 169
Ibid, November 1940, pp394-95 170
Bromley Probus, p9 171
Chandler, p79
49
The ‘Carry on Britain’ spirit which Mr Smale recalled even extended to exams. Chandler gave an
unbelievable account of the boys taking their General School Certificate which: ‘was undertaken in
the most unusual conditions, bombs dropping and lights failing. Twenty-four took the exam, 14
obtained Matriculation exemption and five the Certificate.’172
The magazine possibly hinted to this
cohort when it reported ‘The first event of importance during the term was the news of our very
creditable results in the General School Examination and we are pleased to record our
congratulations to the boys who obtained the certificate…’ mysteriously adding: ‘they will not
readily forget this examination, for reasons known to them and all of us’173
.
Staff
Of the staff at SLESS, Professor Pat Harvey (1940-46) wrote asking
If only something could be done to mark the way a number of very senior Alleyn’s staff kept SLESS
classes running so successfully all through the bombing of London. I am thinking of stalwarts like Mr
Rudd, Mr Hutt and above all of course, Mr Tyson. His name may be kept alive as the name of a House,
but has his service as Head of the emergency school ever been properly honoured? He provided
leadership in incredibly difficult circumstances. What other Head ever had to organise his prefects
into gathering up the abundant harvest of sharp shell splinters, all to be picked up from the playing
fields before games could safely continue?
Brian Savory (Bn 1938-45) thought that ‘many of the staff had passed retirement date to cover for
the younger men who had been called-up into the services’. Teachers were in short supply and many
were persuaded to come out of retirement, such as Messrs Eayrs, Evans, Hack, Hutt, McClymont,
Rudd, Wright. Even women were being admitted to teach and SLESS introduced the first female
teacher to Townley Road: the inestimable Dora Wiggs (see p78). The magazine editors rather
gauchely reported in 1942 that ‘we are to have another lady [Miss GC Gaukrodger ] to teach us Art,
which means that with Mrs Bell, the Headmaster’s Secretary, there will be three ladies working with
us – it all seems so natural, nobody minds!’174
Activities of SLESS
SLESS, like its Alleyn’s progenitor, was divided into eight houses; these were all named after Alleyn’s
masters: McClymont’s, Fowler’s, Wright’s, Allison’s, Evan’s, Crewe’s, Bryant’s, Rudd’s. It also
replicated many of Alleyn’s clubs and societies, such as the Forum Club [a debating society]; one of
its interesting debates which I would have loved to hear was the motion ‘That co-education would
benefit Alleyn’s School’ [note Alleyn’s, not SLESS]175
– the motion was defeated.
Whilst their Alleyn’s brothers based in the north regularly trod the boards with school productions,
the tradition of drama and music did not wither in these SLESS years. The magazine reviewed an end
of term concert, stating
we had a very successful concert when a long and varied programme seemed to give great pleasure
to a large audience…. Mr Wright gave us an amusing recitation and Mr Rudd, besides taking us in his
172
Ibid 173
EAM, March 1945, p149 174
Ibid, October 1942, p572 175
Ibid, March 1945, p149
50
own way down to the West Country, supplied all the piano-forte accompaniments in a way which
went far to make the concert a success.176
Jim French (R 1941-46) wrote of the prohibitions enforced on the boys:
We were not allowed to use playing cards. However, there were other card games with four suits of
13 cards – one was Sexton Blake, which featured pictures of heroes and villains, including Gaspard
Stepponit, a get-away driver, and Belisha, which featured 52 scenic places on a trip from London to
Oban. With these packs it was possible to play the sinful game of Solo! In that 1943 summer holiday
some of us would turn up to play football at school, morning and afternoon, every weekday….177
Ian Smith (R 1942-49) said that ‘during the war years there was hardly any sport played’. Recounting
the differences between the school at Rossall and SLESS, Robert Young claimed that SLESS
‘disregarded the compulsory system of games that Alleyn's at Rossall set such store on’178
. As we
have seen, this lack was alluded to in the very first report about SLESS in the magazine – ‘There will
be no cricket this summer, for we have neither the equipment nor the ability to do the game
justice’179
. This was probably due to the fact the grounds had been requisitioned for the purposes of
growing much-needed food. In 1941, the magazine reporters described a bucolic scene in Dulwich,
albeit with touches of war-time detail:
Late in the term we made a praiseworthy effort to play cricket… The surroundings were completely
rural, so that we had some old-fashioned village cricket, the enjoyable game we used to dream about
whilst watching the stately parade of peace-time. The school gardeners busy with their cabbages,
potatoes, beans, etc.; a haystack in the corner where our elms used to stand; happy laughter mingled
with cheers and applause coming from somewhere in the middle of the meadow; over the road a
dozen horses and ponies grazing in a paddock where it now seems impossible that any cricket ever
could have been played’ – that is the picture. Under the circumstances the cricket was surprisingly
good. 180
A year later games are resumed and ‘there was enthusiasm on all sides and we heard once more the
crack of the Fives ball, the thump of the football,’ along with a chorus provided by the ever-present
gardeners: ‘and the ring of spades in the garden…’181
Food
The boys stayed at School to eat their lunch – in 1944, some 300 boys are listed as staying for school-
lunch. Mr French was perhaps referring to the British Restaurant at Heber Road School (see p19)
when he wrote that at SLESS the
School lunches originally cost 4d, the price of a wartime loaf of bread that was mid-way between
white and brown. I think they later went up to 5d. Most of the school used to traipse along Townley
Road to Heber Road School on the other side of Lordship Lane. The food was not too bad for wartime
– but we were not gourmets then. Occasionally some of us opted for 3d-worth of chips at a shop off
176
Ibid, January 1943, p11 177
Arthur’s SLESS, p19 178
Young, p196 179
EAM, June 1940, p351 180
EAM, October 1941, p475 181
Ibid, May 1942, p537
51
Heber Road. Later our lunches were provided at the British Restaurant at Grafton Hall in Village Way,
halfway to Herne Hill.’ 182
Mr French described the daily doling out of milk at the School:
Free milk was provided in the Tin Tab[ernacle], a two-classroom, WW1 corrugated-roof building on
the lower (east) side of the Quad which was much smaller than today. Many chaps did not drink their
milk which was provided in one-third pint bottles. One day I drank seven bottles in my break.’ 183
Other schools at SLESS
John Williams (R 1943-49) listed some of the other schools which were represented at SLESS: ‘there
was St Dunstan’s, Battersea Grammar, Wilson’s, Haberdashers’ Aske’s and others’, adding that ‘each
school wore their own uniform’. At this distance of years, it seems as this mix could have been a
disaster but John Merrill (R 1942-48) emphasised that, rather, ‘the classroom was full of boys from
all sorts of schools and it didn’t make any sort of difference, we seemed to get on.’ Ian Smith (R
1942-49) elaborated:
We all came from different backgrounds as you can imagine, but got on well together. We were all
members of SLESS, our parents, our fathers were in the war, just one big happy family really.
This friendliness at SLESS was often referred to by our visitors. Gordon Feeley (SLESS 1941-50, a
Strand School boy) told us ‘...the friendliness of the school really helped me settle in. The teachers
were new and the pupils were new – especially in 1940 when it had just started – so I enjoyed the
whole school.’ He recalled that
when I walked in on my first day, a boy asked me if I’d like to play chess. He had the only chess board
and that was when I played my first game of chess… we were always doing things so it was exciting to
be alive and doing things in those days.
A model for the comprehensive school?
One effect of women returning to work to combat the war-time shortage of labour, was the
introduction of holiday clubs to look after children. It was also hoped that these would occupy older
school children and prevent juvenile delinquency; in fact, these clubs were poorly attended: only
10% of secondary school children attended, and more often it was below 5%184
. One such holiday
club took place at SLESS in 1943. Charles Tyson in the magazine heralded this new initiative:
The Easter Holidays were somewhat extended and in response to the wishes of the Board of
Education and the London County Council we arranged to use the School premises for a Holiday Club.
Curiously, and given what was to come with the LCC’s push for comprehensive schools, Tyson
naïvely added: ‘As an educational and social experiment this was a definite success and may easily
lead to more ambitious things.’185
182
Arthur’s SLESS, p18 183
Ibid, pp18-19 184
Gosden, p118 185
EAM, May 1943, p35
52
Professor Leinster-Mackay (D 1943-50) suggests that SLESS, with its large number of pupils
‘combined with the sheer heterogeneity of SLESS might be seen as suggestive of future English
comprehensive schools where the numbers are large and the background of pupils very varied.’186
Certainly, with the benefit of hindsight, it does look as though some officials from the LCC were
keeping a watchful eye on SLESS at Alleyn’s in the context of the educational reforms for a post-war
Britain which were being energetically debated at the time.
End of the war
Against many odds, SLESS at Alleyn’s survived the war despite the challenges of fluctuating rolls,
bombing raids on South London, the shortage of staff and equipment. Between 15 June and 2
September 1944, London saw one of its secondary schools completely destroyed, 10 damaged and
11 reported minor damage. It was in this flying bomb period that SLESS suffered its one casualty:
Bruce Cox’s best friend, Peter Jenkyn:
He was about the closest friend I had at school. We were 16, in the same form, and were fellow
members of the OTC and the scouts. Thus, we did many things together and during the summer
holiday of 1944 it was agreed that on the 31st July I would go to his home at 32 Lovelace Road,
Dulwich, to play with his train set (I did not have one).
For a reason I cannot now recall, I went for a bike ride with another friend… on the agreed day. A
flying bomb hit the Jenkyns’ house full on and Peter and his mother were blown to pieces.187
In March 1945, the Alleyn’s boys at Rossall returned to Townley Road. It was a strange and
unsettling time. Despite SLESS being by far the larger school at this point – ‘we have for the moment
over 600’188
– the Rossalleyn’s boys were seen as the conquering heroes returning as ‘ex-public
school boarding school boys’ to their promised land, a promised land in buildings which the SLESS
boys had only tenanted. Peter Rodway (C 1942-50) described how
Away went many friends made over the previous six years and in came others soon to become
equally firm friends until I left Alleyn’s in 1950.189
Mr Williams bitterly remembered how the Rossalleyn’s boys
monopolised everything here. CR Allison was the Headmaster at Rossall… and Tyson was the
Headmaster here at SLESS, and when Allison came back he took over from Tyson, and everything was
based on the Rossall principle and the people – the whole of 1st XI cricket and football, and it may
have been the same in other things, was made up of people at Rossall. I went up to Terry Garret and
said “I think this is wrong” and he said “well you can have a trial” and I immediately got into the
cricket side, but it was quite difficult, and there was in my mind a bias towards Rossall people.
Mr Rodway – and others – remembered the injustice in that all ‘the SLESS school prefects were
demoted to House prefects, apart from one, which was AC “Basher” Bate’.
186
DLM p35 187
Bromley Probus, p9 188
EAM, July 1945, p166 189
Arthur’s SLESS, p22
53
It must be remembered that SLESS was an amazing achievement and one of which to be proud:
during its existence, 36 masters and mistresses had been on the staff roll and over 1,200 boys from
24 schools had benefitted from its instruction.190
So let us leave the final words on SLESS to its Headmaster, Charles Tyson:
Our last service of dismissal in the School Hall was a solemn and sincere business for all. Cheers and
rejoicing were naturally out of place, but, mixed with regret, there was a note of satisfaction both in
the knowledge of a job well done and in the resolve to put forth every effort to help in the days of
reconstruction which lie ahead.191
190
Chandler, p84 191
Ibid, p85
54
‘Their own devices’�
�‘We have now settled down in our new surroundings and have so many occupations that it is difficult
to record them all. During last term we played football, had House runs, or played Fives when the
weather permitted. When out-of-door activities were not possible, our spare time was spent playing
table tennis, or chess, or other of the indoor games of which we have a plentiful supply. Also we have
a large library in our play room, the books of which have been contributed by the House Master or
the boys. It will be seen that there is no need for any boy to spend a dull moment.’ Edward Alleyn
Magazine, June 1941, pp437-38
With a parent’s hat on I would hope that by reading this report (by the Junior School) about the
range of activities on offer to my child who had been evacuated (indefinitely it seemed), its words
would indeed reassure me. At Rossall, Alleyn’s managed to continue all the sports and clubs which
were previously held in London. It even expanded its range of activities.
The list of clubs which operated in the 1940s is a long one: Bear Pit, Chess Club, Fifty Club, Forum
Club, Middle School Club, Model Society, Modern Language Society, Natural History Club, Record
Club, Scientific Society, Stamp Club. The inspectors of 1950 remarked on this range: ‘The Clubs cater
for many tastes. They embrace many aspects of cultural life’192
. Some of these were recalled by our
AOBs whilst others had their activities diligently recorded in the magazine.
Even before reaching Rossall, some of the boys had put together a club for those billeted in Sandling
in Kent. The Auld Barn Klubb’s function was ‘to lighten the dark evenings,’ and it reported its
autumnal activities as ‘Pinga-Ponga, Singa-Songa’.193
Table tennis and singing continued at Rossall.
Now ‘all the boys’ waking hours belonged to the School’ (what joy for RBH!). There were additional
activities such as gardening and ‘Dig for Victory’, ably inspired by VK Haslam. Much more drama was
organised in which the Headmaster himself often took a leading role. These were peaceful
occupations and helped to fill in weekends, holidays and even evenings after prep.194
Fifty Club and Bear Pit
The School’s debating society the Fifty Club was a mainstay of occupation for the older boys and for
‘those who attended [it] came away with present trials far from their minds.’195
As reported in
‘Alleyn’s in the 1930s’, the Fifty Club is an excellent barometer showing what was uppermost in the
boys’ thoughts at the time. In 1942, they debated the motion that ‘There has been no substantial
progress in education during the last fifty years,’ perhaps in response to the post-war plans which
were being made for education at the time. The motion was ‘rejected by the House’.196
A year later,
another interesting debate was ‘that this House envies its grandparents, and pities its
grandchildren…. The House finally defeated the motion, and was left rather with the impression that
192
HMI Report, 1950, p20 193
EAM, February 1940, p305 194
Chandler, p73 195
EAM, March 1942, p523 196
Ibid
55
it pitied both grandparents and grandchildren, and envied itself.’197
And this, a conclusion from boys
who were enduring war and living far away from their families at home.
After the war the Fifty Club resumed at Dulwich and the debates continued their topical tone. In
1947 the Club debated ‘whether it was better for the Government of a country to have a small well-
educated section of the population or to have the whole population half-educated.’ Hot topic indeed
and one particularly pertinent to Alleyn’s given its state of limbo in terms of the School’s status. In
this discussion, the ‘advocates of a small well-educated minority led by the oligarchic Mr B___ were
successful, after an interesting debate.’198
The boys were quite capable of silly debates. There is one amusing account of an ‘Airship Debate’:
Nobody knows how ‘Little Miss Muffet’ and ‘His Satanic Majesty’ happened to be on the same ship,
nor Frankenstein and Mr Bevin. The latter’s rather sorry appeal as the hero of British youth and the
bribe of important posts in the Ministry of Labour did not gain much approval, and Hitler’s ravings fell
upon cynical ears. However, Father Neptune and Frankenstein… found most favour among their
fellow passengers and were awarded book prizes.199
The masters were capable of being silly too:
Perhaps the most memorable incident [of term] was Mr G__er [Goldner?] admitting to sleepless
nights in endeavouring to invent a Heath Robinson machine for producing Blackpool rock.200
Mr Goldner probably appeared in this account of a Brains Trust held by the Fifty Club where
participants were ‘recruited from the Staff. The President [Mr RHD Young] amused the Club by
introducing Mr G___r as the representative of the fourth dimension, and Mr Jo___s as that of steam.
The battle raged furiously for one and half hours, over questions ranging from beans and bath water
to the supremacy of Oxford and Cambridge. The President intervened to avoid bloodshed, and
closed a most enjoyable evening.’201
It is interesting to note that the SLESS equivalent of the Fifty Club, the ‘Forum Club’ was
incorporated into the Fifty Club when the schools merged after March 1945.
Another way the boys spent their evenings at Rossall was attendance at the Bear Pit.
We set up the Bear Pit which was a play-reading society…. I was a founder-member of the Bear Pit
and I can remember now some of the plays which we read then. A very good way of spending a
Saturday evening or a Sunday afternoon in winter-time.202
The Bear Pit had been instigated in October 1940. The magazine reported that its name ‘caused
some controversy, but eventually the name ‘The Bear Pit’ was chosen for its connection with
197
Ibid, May 1943, p44 198
Ibid, June 1947, p355 199
Ibid, May 1944, p108 200
Ibid, January 1943, p19 201
Ibid, February 1947, p417 202
David Alexander (B 1932-44)
56
Elizabethan amusements in general and Edward Alleyn in particular, and it did not set too narrow a
limit to the activities of the Society’203
. The Pit had the blessing of Headmaster Allison:
He was a very active supporter of the ‘Bear Pit’ Club, of which Mrs Allison was the president [‘chair
bear’]. This was a club or society that held frequent cultural evenings of play reading, poetry reading
and debates.204
Efforts by Bear Pit members to re-establish the Pit on the School’s return to London were in vain:
‘owing to the bustle and hurried flurry of a civilised community the denizens found it too much for
them. Perhaps we bears find the atmosphere too soporific and the tendency is to hibernate.’205
Middle School Club
The Middle School Club was a version of the Fifty Club but for younger members – those below the
Fifth Form. It was set up by Allison in 1940 and its ‘meetings included play-readings, a mock-trial, a
penny-reading, impromptu speeches, and an Entertainment Night.’206
Other activities included whist
drives, balloon debates, dumb crambo207
, charades and plays. On one occasion, Rossall master, Capt
Johnson ‘came one Sunday evening to entertain us with the “true” ghost story of Rossall. This was
heard in candlelight and proved the most popular meeting of the term.’208
I wonder how many boys
slept well that night?
Stamp Club
The School’s Stamp Club reporters noted that ‘If there is one thing that bad weather favours, it is the
indoor hobby. With plenty of such encouragement this term it is not surprising that the stamp club
has flourished.’ This club proved to be a joint Alleyn’s-Rossall venture, even acquiring the name
‘Rossalleyns Stamp Club’. One old Rossallian, a Mr JW Frost, gave a lecture on European Stamps
during the War in 1945. Alleyn Old Boys also contributed to the collecting efforts of the Stamp Club:
We received many gifts of stamps, among which is a packet of ‘Penny Reds’ from CJR Jackson, AOB,
provided us with an interesting afternoon, spent in examining the idiosyncrasies of these stamp
varieties, many of which were rare.209
AOBs took an active interest in the Rossalleyns Stamp Club sending it ‘good wishes, practical
suggestions and a contribution to the Stock Book, for all of which we are most grateful. We are
always glad to hear from Old Boys, and even to exchange with them by post if their wants are not
too ambitious.’210
The club ran auctions, quizzes, competitions and exhibitions – in its first exhibition
the stamp collectors pored over ‘a sheet of Hitler stamps’. One ‘R Cooney’, the later playwright, was
listed as having tied for the second and third prize in the Stamp Club’s Junior Section competition211
.
203
EAM, March 1941, p416 204
DLM, p12 205
EAM, November 1945, p214. The Bear Pit has since been revived at Alleyn’s and flourishes today. 206
Ibid, October 1941, p487 207
A guessing game, similar to charades in which players act out or mime words that rhyme with a clue word. 208
Ibid, May 1944, p109 209
Ibid, March 1945, p158 210
Ibid, March 1942, p519 211
Ibid, November 1943, p68; Ray Cooney OBE, playwright and actor; his biggest success, Run for your Wife ran
for nine years in London’s West End.
57
The club was able to report that ‘cold may come and sunshine go, but those who follow the hobby of
stamp collecting pursue it with unflagging vigour, whatever the season,’212
and, whilst none of our
AOB-visitors mentioned stamp collecting at our reunion, in 1944 the Club was boasting that ‘one in
six of our population now attends’.213
Modern Languages Club
Some of the clubs had an educational value as well as being a means to occupy cold, dark winter
nights, for example, the Modern Languages Club and the Scientific Society. WJ Smith gave a ‘Lantern
Lecture on Italy’ to the members of the Modern Languages Club:
We had secured the loan of some 30 slides from the LCC, and with these, aided by his personal
memories, Mr Smith kept a large audience keenly interested for an hour and a half.
As if justifying its existence, the club’s reporters stressed ‘this aspect of the [Modern Languages]
Club’s activity’ in war-time
as we can no longer visit continental countries and acquaint ourselves at first hand with their
buildings and scenery, it is the next best thing to be shown these by people who have been there.
Studying Modern Languages means not merely acquiring a knowledge of language and literature, it
means an attempt to penetrate into the civilisation of foreign peoples, and we are helped greatly in
this aim by seeing their architecture and their national treasures.214
Scientific Society
The School’s Scientific Society was revived at Alleyn’s and met during the winter months. Its first
meeting was chaired by Allison and they discussed the connections between science and the
humanities. The members heard lectures about vibrations in airscrews, plastics, iron and steel, the
mathematical universe and synthetic rubber. They also watched films, one of which was Gearwheels:
the Society was in general, amazed at the theoretical and practical principles to be considered in the
manufacture of such a seemingly simple object as a cog-wheel.215
The Junior School’s Natural History Society was put on the spot by Form IIIB’s discovery of an 18-inch
grass snake in the school’s grounds.
Surely this must be a very rare occurrence for Alleyn’s – we cannot remember one being recorded
before. The intrepid Form Master of IIIC [Mr Wright?] seized with his handkerchief and followed by a
host of awed and admiring naturalists, brought it in for identification.216
Model Society
A new club set up at Rossall was the Alleyn Model Society. It was ‘formed for the stimulation of
interest in the construction and operation of models’. It is amazing this got off the ground at all
given the huge shortage of materials at the time. Lack of materials or not, the society was
212
Ibid, March 1942, p519 213
Ibid, March 1944, p88 214
Ibid, January 1943, p20 215
Ibid, May 1943, p43 216
Ibid, November 1948, p473
58
oversubscribed and ‘it was decided that a separate branch should be formed to cater for all those
bent on aeroplane construction. In this way a large aircraft club was started….’217
For the ship-modellers, the club suggested: ‘a visit to the Fleetwood pond, which is situated on the
sea front, and is a fine model boating lake.’ Perhaps as an offshoot of these modelling activities, toy-
making classes were started. ‘Under the guidance of Mr Waters there has been a toy-making class
throughout the term. The toys made have been sold and the proceeds given to charity.218
Chess
The boys also took up chess to while away the hours. The Junior School highly recommended the
game as ‘of great value to them as a leisure time occupation.219
The boys even entered the Inter-
Schools Tournament of the British Chess Correspondence Association.220
Chess as an activity continued after the return to Townley Road. Roy Barnes (Bn 1942-49) wrote,
We were even allowed to play chess [in the Library]. I remember one day playing in a simultaneous
game, where the New Zealand champion, Robert Wade221
, who also won the British championship
twice, played about 30 of us at the same time. A hollow oblong of tables was arranged with us sitting
on the inside playing black, while the Grandmaster walked swiftly around the outside playing white
never pausing more than a second or two at each board. Of course he didn't lose a game, but two of
us, including me, managed to draw.222
His Majesty’s Inspectors looked approvingly on: ‘The [Chess] Club has a very large membership,
almost all the boys in the Lower School being enthusiastic chess players and many of them
exceptionally good players considering their age.’223
Gardening
As we have seen, the boys put their backs into the country’s ‘Dig for Victory’ effort.
It is pleasing to note the number of boys who are taking a keen and active interest in gardening.
Under Mr Haslam’s guidance, they have cultivated plots and produced vegetables which have been of
great value to the producers and their friends.224
The Junior School’s horticultural efforts under Mr Haslam continued after the war:
In addition to the fact that they are helping to produce something which is going to be useful, they
are also being well trained for the time when they grow up and have gardens of their own to
cultivate. They are fortunate in having such expert guidance.’225
217
Ibid, June 1941, p450 218
Ibid, March 1944, p75 219
Ibid, May 1944, p100 220
Ibid, May 1943, p43 221
Robert Wade OBE (1921-2008), was a British chess player, writer, arbiter, coach, and promoter. He was
New Zealand champion three times, British champion twice, and played in seven Chess Olympiads and one
Interzonal tournament. Wade held the titles of International Master and International Arbiter. 222
Barnes, p99 223
HMIs’ report, p29 224
EAM, October 1941, p470
59
And in 1948, the gardeners crowed: ‘you should see our Runner Beans – the pride of all young
beginners’!226
Entertainments
There have also been films and plays and we were specially interested in the conjuring show given by
Captain Johnson (Rossall). At Half-Term we were taken to the Circus at Blackpool, an outing which we
thoroughly enjoyed.227
The boys were entertained with films and visits to the theatre. A cinema projector was purchased in
1942 and the magazine reported that it
was in great demand both for the entertainment of the school and for the instruction of the select
few interested in such things as Cathode Ray Oscillographs and Diesel Engines. As well as a varied
selection of Charlie Chaplin, the following full length films were shown: ‘King Solomon’s Mines’,
‘Rhodes of Africa’, ‘Owd Bob’, ‘Forever England’, ‘Frozen Limits’, ‘The Vicar of Bray’, ‘The Lady
Vanishes’. 228
Films were generally shown on Saturday evenings and were ‘eagerly looked forward to.’ One of the
films screened was The Scarlet Pimpernel with AOB Leslie Howard (T 1907-10) in it – but there’s no
mention of his Alleyn’s connection in the magazine229
.
The boys were even used as guinea pigs for films as in 1944, the Board of Education sent the School
some trial films school to find out if they were suitable for general presentation. ‘It was our task to
criticise, which we did most willingly!’230
At Christmas in 1942, the boys greased up and put on a show:
…the grand Christmas entertainment shone forth like a beacon to lighten our darkness. A committee
of miniature CB Cochrans231
was formed, and the resulting show was something unbelievable.
There were three parts: Circus, Drama and Pantomime.232
Visits were made to see the real circus at Blackpool – ‘the clowns were the funniest we have ever
seen’233
– and the pantomime – ‘was a real pleasure to see a stage play, and we enjoyed it very
much’.234
It is interesting that none of our AOBs recalled the theatre and circus visits but did remember the
sojourns into the countryside. Peter Philpott (B 1934-43) remembered,
225
Ibid, February 1947, p313 226
Ibid, November 1948, p473 227
Ibid, March 1944, p79 228
Ibid, January 1942, p5 229
Ibid, May 1943, pp41-42 230
Ibid, May 1944, p96 231
CB Cochran (1872-1951), English theatrical manager. He produced some of the most successful
musical revues, musicals and plays of the 1920s and 1930s. 232
EAM, March 1942, pp523-4 233
Ibid, March 1942, p507 234
Ibid, May 1943, p34
60
a couple of day-excursions for the more senior boys; one to Garstang and the Trough of Bowland, and
one to the Lake District where we climbed a modest mountain. On our descent, however, the weather
closed in and two of our number followed the wrong line of cairns and finished up in a village police
station far from the rest of us and had to be rescued the following day!
The magazine described how, on one of these excursions, ‘Mr G___r [Goldner?] again demonstrated
the agility worthy of an acrobat in jumping nimbly from rock to rock on the top of Scafell’.235
One
party who went to Ingleton had this sorry tale to relay:
It rained. Three coaches returned very soon to Lancaster and the shelter of a cinema, while the
remainder were steadfast in their resolve. A small but select party under the expert leadership of Mr
JA Taylor climbed to within 200 ft of the summit of Whernside, and other scattered bands roamed the
Yorkshire moors. We have never been wetter.236
Alan Jackson (C 1945-51) explained that trips were rare in the immediate period following the
Second World War, and John Hughes (C 1945-51) added that ‘there was little in the way of foreign
travel back in those days. However, in 1947, two lucky boys [P Walker & G Garrett] managed to join
a trip to ‘a Youth Rally at Rouen, in which children from all parts of Normandy took part. The French
Government kindly invited 50 London school children to attend this rally and two of us from Alleyn’s
were lucky enough to be chosen.’237
One of the first group trips beyond the White Cliffs of Dover was the First XI cricket and football
team tours to the Channel Islands to play Victoria College, Jersey and Elizabeth College, Guernsey. All
the visitors were accommodated in our family homes. Mr Barnes went on this trip and witnessed
some after-effects of the war:
The house I stayed in in St Helier had a black swastika painted outside the front door, which
somebody had unsuccessfully tried to remove with white paint. The Channel Islands were the only
part of the UK occupied by the Germans during the Second World War.... families who were deemed
to have collaborated with the Germans... often had swastikas painted on their houses... At the time I
had no idea what a swastika on the wall meant, and assumed it was something the Germans had
done to display their presence, rather like dogs with lamp-posts.238
The boys also caught a taste of industry after the war. A group of 18 members of the CCF visited
Ford’s Motor Works at Dagenham:
We travelled by lorry, in no great luxury, and arrived at 1.45pm. For the next three hours we toured
the factory and its grounds under the direction of an official guide. The tour was planned so that we
followed the course of a tractor and car from the arrival of the raw material up the Thames, to the
time when the finished vehicle was driven off the assembly-line ready for sale.239
‘JFM’ noted that, from the point of ‘the main assembly-line on which, beginning as a frame, a car,
lorry or van is completed in a little over 2 ¼ hours,’ adding:
235
Ibid, June 1941, p454 236
Ibid, May 1942, p531 237
Ibid, October 1947, p393 238
Barnes, pp118-19 239
EAM, February 1949, p533
61
We left Dagenham very highly impressed by the efficiency, cleanliness and high standard of
production in the Works. Everyone of the workers we saw was doing one job well and not two jobs
fairly well which, it was pointed out, accounts for the fact that every vehicle, without exception, could
be driven off the assembly-line.240
Shooting
To my health and safety conscious-eyes, the fact that the School had a shooting range on its
premises in the 1940s is a trifle alarming. One of our pupil-interviewers asked her group about the
shooting at Alleyn’s.
Connie: I think you mentioned earlier that you did shooting competitions?
Mr Merrill: Yes, we had the ranges next door
Connie: I can’t imagine us having that now!
Mr Stewart: And there was Bisley. Bisley [home of UK’s National Rifle Association in Surrey] was a
very big thing. We used to do all right, didn’t we?
Mr Reeve: We did extremely well. I don’t think we ever won it, but we did well. In fact one of the old
boys was number one shot for Britain. His name was Philip Hall and he won the highly prestigious
Queen’s Prize…. Shooting was a big thing. We had a big Corps. We did lots of it. We went to School
competitions, and the next thing we’d go down to Bisley and be shooting against other schools. It was
very important.
As with many of the sports played at Alleyn’s, the School looked back to a pre-war glory. In the
magazine, it reported that
The reconstruction of the School’s shooting activities has been continued during the term…. It has not
yet been possible to have the stove in the range repaired, so excellent training has at least been given
for operations in Arctic theatres…. A number of possible shots have been discovered, but much
practice is needed before the pre-war standard is reached.241
As in athletics, AOBs were called on to help out in getting the pre-war standard back.
Liaison with the AOB Rifle Club has once again proved that those stalwarts are ready and anxious to
help the shooting of the school by coaching on both miniature and open ranges, and by repeating
their standing invitation to the School VII and masters to attend the Tuesday evening Club meetings
whenever they wish.242
Two years later, it didn’t appear that any trophies were going to be presented anytime soon to
Alleyn’s with night-time distractions such as this: ‘No prizes were awarded for the pillow fight that
took place one evening in the barrack room.’243
School activities
240
Ibid, p534 241
Ibid, February 1947, p322 242
Ibid, June 1948, p454 243
Ibid, May 1949, p569
62
We did pay at least lip service to Our Founder's wish that Godliness should come even before good
learning. On four days in the week the whole Upper School assembled for a 20 minute-service in the
school hall, while on the other two prayers were read by Housemasters in House assembly. On
Mondays the first period in the morning was Divinity, taught in Houses by House-masters and House
tutors, with the Thirds and Fourths reading the text of the Old Testament.244
Our AOBs remembered the day-to-day activities of the School, the assemblies, the journals, the
breaks and lunches.
Mr Williams: We met every morning for assembly.
Mr Rodway: And the prefect read the lesson. And we had a termly march to the chapel for a service.
Mr Smith: We had divinity lessons.
All: Yes, yes.
Mr Rodway: We had divinity lessons…
Mr Williams: First on Monday morning.
Mr Rodway: And if you got Steve Jenkins taking you on divinity lessons.
Mr Williams: You could talk about the supernatural –
Mr Rodway: Oh the black mass! He was very into the black masses. Very interesting divinity lessons,
far better than Soapy Hudson’s economics theories on Friday mornings.
Up at Rossall – not surprisingly for a school initially named ‘The Northern Church of England School’
– the Chapel looms large on its campus and accordingly played a key role in the lives of the boys.
After settling in, the magazine published ‘a list of the voluntary services held during the Advent Term
on Wednesday evenings.’ This was, it explained,
an experiment in communal worship; for the preparation and the conduct of the services were shared
between masters, boys and visitors. Recommendations were made by the School Committee at the
beginning of the term, and from the attendance at and the atmosphere of the services themselves,
they obviously corresponded to a genuine need. They were a source of strength and inspiration for
those who came, and their continuance has much to contribute to the building up of a stronghold of
Christian faith as the centre of the School’s life.245
The contribution of pupils was by no means a token gesture, DD Alexander, RJ Doubleday, PG
Philpott were all named as having given sermons in the Lent term of 1942. Headmaster Allison
instigated ‘Morning Quiet’ for the boys, explaining that:
…certain variations from the normal form of Morning Prayers have shown that within that daily ten
minutes may lie something of value for everyone. The practice of Morning Quiet, the few minutes of
dedication are the necessary prelude to a day in ‘the good life’, and by one of those great religious
paradoxes, only through discipline in such matters can we ‘stand fast… in the liberty wherewith Christ
hath made us free’.246
244
Young, p205 245
EAM, March 1942, p517 246
Ibid, May 1942, p539
63
Bed-making
We are all becoming expert bed makers and the desire to produce the tidiest dormitory each day is
very keen.247
One innovation at Rossall was the bed-making competition within each House which appeared to be
eagerly adopted by the younger members of the School. In one issue of the magazine Roper’s
reported ‘The Dormitory Competition this term was won in January and February by Dormitory 3’.248
Desk inspections
For the boys based back at Townley Road, there were desk inspections. Derek Smith (R 1947-53)
remembered ‘we had desk inspections regularly and ink wells were topped up from time to time
which often became clogged up and stuck to your pen nib.’ Mr Barnes recalled the advantage of the
ink well in causing havoc:
…we all had individual desks, complete with inkwell, very convenient for putting carbide in and
making a stink, and pen with steel nib and wooden shaft….’249
Journal
Ian Smith (R 1942-49) brought in one of his school journals. Robert Young explained its rationale:
…the main stimulus was the invention of the 'Journal'…. all marks were entered in ink, checked and
added up and a weekly form order was produced…. The boy top of the form took up the list to the
Headmaster on the platform at Assembly on Tuesday morning. There was no nonsense about all the
competition being bad for the weaker brethren.250
I was especially pleased to see that Mr Smith Mjr had marked up 8 May as VE Day (holiday) – see
Appendix. His younger brother Derek Smith also remembered the ritual behind the Journal:
We had journals to write up each day, which recorded the marks for each subject every day and were
added up at the end of each week. The total number of marks decided the position you came in the
class and also indicated your progress. The master gave a written report in your journal and a final
report at the end of each term which you took home to be signed by your parent.
Breaks
During mid-morning breaks we would be given one-third pint of milk and, in the lunch hour break, we
would play hand-cricket using a tennis ball or a small homemade bat using a hard composition rubber
ball. Our jackets or blazers would be used as wickets.251
Eric Hirst (C 1944-50) remembered the cricket: ‘we used to make our own little bats. [We’d play] On
the grass with a marble, my uncle made me some bats. At break we used to play, we didn’t score
centuries’. Another break-time activity was conkers and John Williams (R 1943-49) looked back to an
247
Ibid, June 1941, p438 248
Ibid, May 1942, p536 249
Barnes, p100 250
Young, p93 251
Derek Smith (R 1947-53
64
age before health and safety rules: ‘conkers were played (without goggles or gloves). Even with
conkers which were baked hard no injuries occurred. Another favourite game was five-stones.’
Mr Barnes described the Buttery
where at breaks we could buy superb pastries, Russian slice, doughnuts and my favourite, Chelsea
buns. We also had lunch in the Buttery, a cooked meal of two courses, one with meat or fish, and two
vegetables and a dessert, which was always some kind of sticky pudding like spotted dick with thick
yellow custard plonked on top. I never took a fancy to this and fortunately was not forced to accept it.
Taking food and leaving it was frowned on. Nothing was thrown away.252
Young despaired of the attention to milk
…after the War… an equal amount of time was spent in arranging for free milk to be poured down the
throats of everybody, under a scheme presided over by Mr Tyson and blessed by Mr Williams the PE
Instructor…. As for Tyson, he behaved each day as though milk was far more important than
knowledge. Perhaps it was!253
In a Roper’s House report, its writer also complained about the milk – but for slightly different
reasons: ‘the House does not take enough care of its House Room. It ought to take a pride in keeping
this room tidy and avoid leaving milk caps and small puddles of milk on the floor.’254
Founder’s Day, 1945
For the first Founder’s Day after victory, the magazine reported on a war-weary – but not defeated –
Alleyn’s. The School even allowed pride of place to one of its friends [the Rev J Watt, vicar of Boxley
in Kent] it had gathered in the course of its peregrinations. There is a wisp of normality in the air as
the School returned to its customary ceremonies and traditions:
this year [Founder’s Day] had more of the traditional attractions than any previously held in war-time,
despite the fact that there was no Shooting Match against the Old Boys, that the Laboratories, the
Woodwork and Art Rooms could not exhibit, that there was no triumphal march up and down Big Side
[1st
XI pitch on lower school field] by the OTC band.
But the usual heroic band collected early to cut the cornflowers. At 9.30 the School attended the
customary service at the College Chapel, where the preacher was our great friend, the Rev J Watt,
MA. The First XI pitch, although bomb-scarred was in use again… But the scene was not complete, for
the old majestic elms no longer stand.255
252
Barnes, p90 253
Young, p99 254
EAM, February 1948, p407 255
Ibid, November 1945, p203
65
Headmasters at Alleyn’s
‘I had several [Headmasters], didn’t I? I had Charlie Hack, he was the first one at SLESS, and then it
was Tyson, and then it was Allison, when he came back from Rossall, and then Soapy Hudson.’ Ian
Smith (Roper’s, 1942-49)
In the decade between 1940-50, there were three Headmasters of Alleyn’s School: Ralph Bushell
Henderson [‘Piggy’, ‘RBH’], C Ralph Allison [‘Claude’] and Sidney R Hudson [‘Soapy’256
or ‘George’];
the Headmaster at SLESS was briefly Charles Hack but he was replaced by Charles Tyson in 1940.
Robert Young wrote that,
It was Charles Tyson who was most deeply frustrated when the Governors chose Hudson [as
Headmaster]. He returned to the task of Housemaster. He had once been an international football
player, but now all he was left with was special responsibility for the distribution of milk, which the
LCC was making more important than the distribution of learning!257
Ian Smith (R 1942-49), an Alleyn’s boy at SLESS, reminisced:
Charlie Tyson, super Headmaster. He had a very good personality, while some of the others just came,
you saw them in the morning at assembly, then they dived away into the Headmaster’s study and
that was it. Well, Charlie Tyson had been a very good footballer in his day, and he was very much into
sport generally and he made himself known to everyone, which I thought was so important.
I wonder how differently the boys might have remembered Alleyn’s had Tyson taken control? For
this chapter I shall be concentrating on the Alleyn’s Headmasters, Henderson, Allison and Hudson.
Ralph Henderson
At the end of the account of, ‘Alleyn’s in the 1930s’, we left RBH defending the public school system
at an Alleyn Old Boys’ Annual Dinner258
. His ambition at Alleyn’s had always been to provide a day
school worthy of public school status – an ambition which was recognised by the LCC Inspectors of
1938 who wrote that Alleyn’s gives ‘pupils residing in their homes the benefits of a public school
training’259
. At the start of the 1940s, RBH just saw the evacuation of the School to Maidstone
where, memorably, history master Robert Young gave a description of Henderson. In it RBH appears
Ozymandias-like:
The Headmaster, Mr Henderson – a great enemy of the Hun – took up residence in the Star and
Garter at Maidstone, but he was already beginning to lose interest in and hope about the school he
had so lovingly built up.260
It was as if Henderson had given up the battle before the war had properly begun. In June 1940, his
departure from the School was announced in the Edward Alleyn Magazine:
The Headmaster is leaving us at the end of this term to take up his appointment as Manchester
Reader at Oxford University. We should like to take this opportunity of wishing him and Mrs
256
So called because of Hudson’s the soap flake manufacturer of the time. 257
Young, p196; the 1946 School Milk Act provided one-third of a pint free for every school child under 18. 258
EAM, February 1938, pp43-44 259
LCC inspection report, 1938, p189 260
Young, p107
66
Henderson, on behalf of all our readers, a long period of happiness. At the time of going to press the
new Headmaster has not yet been appointed.261
When Alleyn’s later faced its educational battles with the Dulwich Estate governors, Henderson took
their actions personally; ‘he regarded the Governors as assassins intent on murdering his child!’262
Ted Robinson (Tn 1938-41) concurred with our AOBs of the 1930s that Henderson was an aloof
figure: ‘I cannot recall any sighting or words direct with Mr Henderson,’ but he admitted that he and
his fellow pupils understood ‘that he [RBH] and the school could be greatly proud of having no fewer
than seven Old Boy bishops.’
Ralph Allison
Gerry Thain (Tn 1938-44) recalled that while ‘Henderson was distant,’ Henderson’s successor,
‘Claude Allison, I think, was terrific!’ The magazine introduced Allison in its issue of November 1940:
On behalf of parents, Old Boys and the School we welcome as Headmaster Mr CR Allison, MA, St
Catharine’s College, Cambridge, BA Lond., former Headmaster of Reigate Grammar School’263
.
Professor Donald Leinster-Mackay (D 1943-50) painted a detailed picture of Allison’s career history
up until this point:
Allison, whose father was a Fellow of the Institute of Chartered Accountants, was educated at
Caterham School and University College London, before going as an Exhibitioner to St Catharine’s
College, Cambridge. He, therefore, had a very strong educational background to take on Alleyn’s in
1940. His teaching career was also very recommendatory with his having been an assistant master for
a brief time at Worksop College and at Malvern College from 1929 to 1936, where he made a
considerable impact on the College’s extracurricular activities. He was an English tutor at Stowe
School from 1936 to 1938, where he later became a school governor, and from there he became
Headmaster of Reigate Grammar School. He had thus had successful teaching experience and had
also been a Headmaster, albeit for only two years, prior to taking up his post at Alleyn’s.264
RBH must have been reassured when he read Allison’s first open letter in the Edward Alleyn
Magazine published in 1940. In it, Allison expressed the importance that Alleyn’s – and similar
schools – would play on the wider stage.
The world after the war is not going to be the same that we knew before September 1939, but it is,
nevertheless, going to be a world in which a school such as Alleyn’s will have even more important
work to do than formerly. For to me, as an outside observer, the School has always appeared to be
engaged on an important piece of pioneering: it has taken the best elements of the English public
school system and transplanted them successfully in a great London day school. This is what must
increasingly happen if the English tradition in education is to shape the future of England as it alone
can.265
261
EAM, June 1940, p339 262
Young, p195 263
EAM, November 1940, p374 264
DLM, p9 265
EAM, November 1940, p368
67
Little could he have known that he was presciently uttering ideas and themes which he would be
returning to in 1944 and 1945 in defending the School from threat of extinction at the hands of its
governing body and the LCC.
Allison’s first task as Headmaster was to re-gather the boys to one place ‘somewhere in England’
from the various parts of Britain that they had been flung by the evacuation. Allison succeeded in
persuading Rossall at Fleetwood in Lancashire to share its premises and on 6 January, 1941, ‘Ralph
Allison led his School to the North-west coast’266
.
In the notes Allison made ahead of a meeting to brief staff about the move from the scattered billets
in Kent to everyone living and learning under one roof at Rossall, Allison underlined the differences
the boys were going to encounter.
From the boys’ point of view the change is going to be one from freedom to restraint, from the varied
surroundings of a life divided between home and school to the uniformity of day and night in the
same environment.
More so than with either his predecessor or his successor, there are glimpses of Allison, and his wife,
rolling up their sleeves to occupy and care for the boys during their ‘freedom from restraint’. In the
summer holidays of 1941, Allison even joined a group of boys on a cycling trip from Rossall to
Seascale. The AOBS spoke and wrote warmly about Allison. David Wallace (C 1941-46) told us that
‘Mr Allison was excellent in all respects. I felt he listened to me.’ Mr Williams said that ‘I think he was
a very upstanding, considerate but firm Headmaster.’
Frank Halford (R 1942-49) remembered that Allison ‘was very keen on appearance, and we used to
go regularly to Cleveleys for a haircut. It cost sixpence, or 2½ p in today’s money’. David Alexander (B
1933-42) looked on Allison as ‘a considerable influence in my life’; Allison was
Very relaxed… an enthusiastic man, a bit of an actor himself. Even his delivery had something of the
old fashioned stage about it but he encouraged us to do a lot of drama and he taught us current
affairs and various other parts of the curriculum which made it lively and interesting. We set up the
Bear Pit which was a play reading society… I was a founder-member of the Bear Pit and I can
remember now some of the plays which we read then. A very good way of spending a Saturday
evening or a Sunday afternoon in winter-time.267
Ralph and Rita Allison threw themselves into drama productions, the Bear Pit, the Fifty Club and the
Middle School Club. Mrs Allison acquired the title of ‘Chair Bear’ when made chair of the Bear Pit. At
times, Allison comes across, like Edward Alleyn before him, as a Master of the Revels; Sidney Giles
(Bn, 1933-42) wrote that Allison
mounted a production of The Importance of Being Earnest as a sort of farewell to our Kentish hosts….
The Headmaster, dressed in a hired costume worn by John Gielgud in the then recent famous London
production, spoke a prologue specially written by, I think, Basil Davies, which began:
‘Ladies and gentlemen; it is our plan
To play (without disturbance, if we can)
A piece which, in a less fantastic age
Won much approval on the comic stage.’
266
Chandler, p71 267
Alexander, p76
68
….the reference to ‘disturbance’ was of course to the possible air-raid sirens.268
Allison was clearly an excellent actor and we get a peek of his dramatic powers in the magazine
review of Thunder Rock: ‘The Headmaster, as the labourer Briggs, was a pathetic character who was
always convincing, and by a single expression or gesture could bring laughter to the audience or
reduce them to the verge of tears’269
. The Rt Hon the Lord Higgins (D, 1940-46) mentioned Thunder
Rock saying:
The Headmaster, CR Allison…. was outstanding. He was married to a former actress and together they
put on a whole series of plays and entertainments, including Judgement Day by Elmer Rice and
Thunder Rock by Robert Audrey.270
In a review of Ruddigore, the magazine reported that the audience ‘obtained so much pleasure from
duets like “I know a youth” excellently acted by Mr and Mrs Allison…’271
Mr Thain stayed in touch
with Allison after they had both left the School: ‘I wrote [Claude] a letter for a reference or
something, he was very friendly. He always sent me tickets for Shakespeare plays that he and his
wife were both performing in. First class chap.’
Professor Leinster-Mackay compared Allison to the Admiral Crichton, another role he played before
the boys, and in doing so we get an even more vivid picture of Allison:
In many ways Allison as Crichton was a ‘natural’. His personality, very redolent of a typical English
gentleman, displayed urbaneness and suavity. Such was his urbanity (by comparison RBH was
ungainly) that Charles Ralph Allison was nicknamed ‘Claude’. He was diplomatic in his dealings with
the host school, having a very good relationship with Rossall’s acting Head, Colonel Trist….272
The Allisons whiled away the long, dark evening hours at Rossall with readings by the fireside. The
Bear Pit reported:
These plays [Charley’s Aunt, Hay Fever & The Last of Mrs Cheyney] were read, owing to the customary
rigours of the climate, round the fire, and during the intervals the Headmaster, with beneficence as
customary as the aforementioned climatic rigours, supplied the denizens with refreshment.’273
Reading such heart-warming and cosy accounts in the magazine must have gladdened every parent
who was suffering the war-time separation from their sons. Allison’s sense of humour also shines
through in the magazine’s pages. At Speech Day in 1944, after hearing a concert version of Gounod’s
‘Faust’, he reminded his audience that:
the story was associated with the name of Edward Alleyn. He was the creator of the title part in
Marlowe’s Dr Faustus and it is said that on one occasion he was playing it with such fervour and
conviction that the Devil himself appeared upon the stage at his invocation. Alleyn realising what had
happened vowed to his Good Angel some notable good work if the visitor was removed. Removed he
was in the traditional sulphurous manner, and, says the legend, Alleyn, as good as his word, founded
268
Drama and Music, p46 269
EAM, May 1942, p549 270
D&M, p52 271
EAM, May 1942, p547 272
DLM, p8 273
EAM, March 1945, p158
69
the College of God’s Gift, where ‘thousands of innocent children have received their education
ignorant of the fact that they owe it to His Infernal Majesty in person.’274
Reminding his audience about the School’s identity and heritage was a regular theme for Allison. He
was keenly aware of the dangers of Alleyn’s losing its sense of identity whilst so far away from
Dulwich. To reinforce the continuing traditions of Alleyn’s, he invited Alleyn Old Boys to visit the
School at Rossall (they did). Two years into their stay at Rossall, Allison wrote a letter to AOBs,
recalling the old alma mater:
It is my great pleasure to convey this [message] to you all, through the Magazine: wherever you are
when you read this, in training, on active service, or carrying on essential work at home, please
believe that you are still part of Alleyn’s and that we who continue in the tradition that you in your
generation helped forward, read with pride of your service to the country in all spheres of its activity,
and look forward to the first Old Boys’ Day after the war when there will be the chance of meeting
again in Dulwich.275
Looking ahead to a life after the war was uncertain and, even in the grip of the fighting in 1941,
Allison was conscious of having to plan to reconstruct the School after the war. He appealed to the
AOBs for help to build up rolls, spelling out the School’s unique selling point at Rossall in war-time:
In my let to you in the last issue of the Magazine I asked that you should hold yourselves ready to help
with the re-establishment of the School in Dulwich after the war: I now write to ask you co-operation
in a more immediate task.
If we are to have the right foundation on which to build later we must maintain our numbers here at
Rossall. We cannot take, at present, more than about 210, but I should like to feel that our
recruitment up to that number was assured as long as we are here. This is where Old Boys of the
School can help us. By letting people know where Alleyn’s is to be found: by handing on, particularly
to parents in London, details of our opportunities at Rossall to continue full-time education, free so
far from the interruptions of war, you will be doing the School a real service, and, I believe, a service
also to those boys who may come to us through your persuasions. I would add the all-important
information that the basic school fee remains the same: the only extra contribution expected from
parents towards boarding expenses is the ordinary payment to the Government Billeting Fund of from
6/- to 9/- a week… I am confident that I can leave the pages of the Magazine with its record of so
many varied activities to speak further on our behalf.276
The School’s finances were uncertain and he reminded his audience at Speech Day – and readers of
the magazine – about ‘a fund, founded by Mr Henderson with a subscription of £100, for the
reconditioning of the School’s grounds and buildings after the war. Parents and friends of the school
were invited to contribute to this fund.’277
A boarding school existence meant the pupils had a lot of spare time on their hands after lessons.
Allison used this to the good of the Alleyn’s community by running team and group activities. At
Speech Day in 1944 Allison said that Alleyn’s had learnt a good deal more about community making
in the past year. He said
274
Ibid, November 1944, p127 275
Ibid, May 1942, p555 276
Ibid, June 1941, p456-57 277
Ibid, October 1942, p573
70
The form, the team, the platoon, the orchestra, the cast, the squad, the chorus, the House, the
School: these are associations in which we find ourselves by losing ourselves. Success in all these
spheres is the measure of what each can give.’278
In October 1943, Allison spent a week at SLESS to the Alleyn’s buildings in Townley Road and also to
speak to the Alleyn’s boys who had chosen not to leave London. But when the time came to return
to Alleyn’s at Dulwich, Allison was Headmaster for only one term as he had accepted the headship of
Brentwood School – a direct grant boarding school – to commence in the Advent Term of 1945. He
remained there until his retirement in 1966.
Sidney Hudson
After Allison’s departure, Sidney Hudson, Geography master, commanding officer of the OTC (later
the JTC), and since 1944, Second Master, was made Acting Headmaster in September 1945; his
position was confirmed in 1947. He had been appointed by Henderson as an assistant master in
1926 and was to spend a total of 40 years at Alleyn’s.
In 1945 Alleyn’s future, despite all of Allison’s battles on its behalf (see the chapter on the ‘Alleyn’s
education crisis’), was very uncertain.
Unlike his predecessor Allison, Hudson does not leap from the page or from the words of our
witnesses of the time as a bon vivant who held centre stage. Roy Barnes described his admissions
interview with Hudson:
During the interview with the Headmaster, I sat passively on an upright chair, while he questioned my
mother and Uncle George and from time to time shot a query or two at me. He was a small man with
thin greying hair and sat behind a huge desk.279
What emerges is an unimposing man – perhaps even an eminence grise – but one who nevertheless
worked tirelessly for Alleyn’s, to keep the School afloat and safe. By 1945, Hudson had already been
at Alleyn’s for 19 years and in that time served in many capacities; his valete recognised that,
For a dozen years he commanded the OTC, later the JTC; for many years he was master in charge of
Athletics…. It was under his guidance that in 1933 our running track was laid with schoolboy labour,
making Alleyn’s one of the earliest schools to be so equipped….
The war years imposed difficult administrative problems when the school was evacuated to
Maidstone. Mr Hudson undertook the duties of master in charge of billeting and when in January,
1941, the school moved to Rossall he held the onerous office of Bursar and was Housemaster of
Crescent House….280
Alan Jackson (C 1945-51) admitted that ‘I don’t think I saw him until I left really!’ and John Cleary (B
1945-51) said ‘The only time most of us saw him was at morning assembly’. Mr Cleary realised that
Hudson was probably busy behind the scenes:
278
Ibid, November 1944, p126 279
Barnes, p96 280
EAM, November, 1963, p76
71
… you didn’t really see him, Major Hudson. He didn’t do much in the way of lessons because there
was a considerable amount of administrative work to be addressed to get Alleyn’s back on its feet. In
hindsight this work probably laid the foundation for the tremendous progress the School has made.
Young concurred: ‘...the Headmaster was so confined to his office by red-tape and form-filling, that
he could only take a couple of periods a week for teaching boys.’281
Some of our boys remembered
Hudson teaching them – he taught Peter Wrench (C 1945-49): ‘He used to take us in political affairs:
one lesson a week. He always used to bring a copy of the Spectator in with him and just read from
it.’ Before Hudson was made Headmaster, Peter Reeve (C 1941-48) spoke of Hudson’s geography
lessons:
he used to pull down a map and there’d be on it India and China and he’d talk about the Himalayas
and Afghanistan and so on and so forth – this had got absolutely nothing to do with what was coming
up in the exam in the following May, nothing whatsoever, and it was not surprising that nobody got a
distinction at School Certificate for years: several boys got credits, a few others got passes, but all the
others failed. Geography at O Level, it’s horrendous. I was lucky; Tojo Phillips moved in and took over
Geography when Hudson went on to be Headmaster. Seven of us got distinctions, God knows how
many got credits, a few boys got passes, nobody failed. In one year.
This is an interesting insight set against Young’s moan about,
Hudson's attention to statistics of results in exams. At least one head of a department (George Dodd
in Modern Languages) began trying to poach the brightest boys at the age of 11 to become linguists.
My loyalty to other members of the staff dimmed when I caught them at it.... Henderson had always
ditched statistics about the proficiency of certain teachers or subjects, but Hudson at first didn't
realise that a 100% pass record for three musicians was not comparable with, say, a 40% pass record
for 200 English candidates...282
The post-war world of work was becoming unionised, and this was true at Alleyn’s. Young explained:
…the trade union attitude was affecting the non-teaching staff. Instead of a Headmaster next under
God, he was being reduced to some sort of equality with the superintendent of the meals service, the
cleaners and the ground staff. He resisted this manfully, and never agreed to pressure from teaching
unions to publish salary scales or positions of special responsibility; but he failed to hold in check the
caretakers who complained about discipline in form-rooms, or groundsmen who refused to work in
the rain, or stay after 5pm. This made it extremely hard to continue, as Hudson wished, to make
Alleyn's the nearest approach to a Boarding School.283
Young complained too that under Hudson ‘…the united masters common room of pre-war days had
been succeeded by an abundance of cliques. Mid-morning breaks took place in the Common Room,
Orderly Room, Chemistry Laboratory, Visitors' Room and Buttery. All alike brewed up tea or coffee.
Hudson never managed to tackle these splits, and it was left to Charles Lloyd to restore the vestiges
of unanimity some 15 years later.284
Given this catalogue of complaints against Hudson (and there
are more in Young’s book), I wasn’t at all surprised to hear from Mr Cleary that ‘Soapy Hudson had
281
Young, p199 282
Ibid, p216 283
Ibid, p199 284
Ibid, pp196-97
72
the audacity to send Bob Young home because he was wearing a Paisley jumper under his tweed
jacket that he always wore.’ Perhaps the antipathy was mutual?
Our AOBs relayed an amusing anecdote of Hudson making an (illogical) stand over an issue:
when Soapy Hudson gave a boy detention because he was seen walking through the village with a
JAGS girl. He then rings their Headmistress and the girl gets a detention. They were brother and sister.
And the parents objected to the pair of them getting detention and they were told ‘the rule is that the
boys of Alleyn’s will not fraternise with the girls of JAGS, and that applies to everybody.’ That was
Soapy Hudson’s comment to them apparently.
One of our boys caught a glimpse of a kinder side to Hudson. John Holt (S 1945-51) remembered
that, in his last week at School,
I was summoned to the Headmaster’s study and I remember knocking nervously on the door. A voice
bade me enter and on opening the door, I was amazed to see that he had a smile on his face! He had
always looked so strict at Assembly or if you encountered him in the corridor or the grounds. I cannot
remember seeing a more icy stare, if you displeased him in any way. But, this time, he was friendly
and smiling. He wished me well in my job and for the future and being a retired Major, seemed
particularly anxious that I did well in my forthcoming National Service….
His parting words to Mr Holt were: ‘“Holt,” he said, “Once a member of Alleyn’s – always a member
of Alleyn’s”.’285
Given his length of service at Alleyn’s, perhaps this had become Hudson’s mantra?
His obituary in 1967 concluded that ‘His, then, was a lifetime of service to Alleyn’s, a school he loved
and of which he was extremely proud’.286
The HM inspectors who came in 1950 also noted the
Headmaster’s devotion to duty and that he had,
inherited a necessarily difficult task and one which has been made more difficult by recent changes in
his staff. For many years he has devoted himself to promote the welfare of the School and certain of
the excellent aspects of school life…. reflect his determination and his ability to maintain the fine
traditions of Alleyn's School.
Indeed, after the war there ‘had been dark days in 1944 and 1945 when it had seemed that Alleyn’s
might belong to the Foundation in nothing more than name.’287 Professor Leinster-Mackay summed
up that,
Hudson’s 18 years as Headmaster from 1945-63 gave a breathing space to the school after the
traumas of war. It was not for Hudson to embark on any brilliant adventure – merely to do what he
was best at – holding fast to the Alleyn’s tradition, or as much as could be retained in changing
circumstances and the absence of money.288
In his obituary the magazine writers commented that Hudson’s,
greatest achievement was to preserve what was best in the traditions of Alleyn’s and yet adapt those
traditions where necessary to meet the needs of a changing society.289
285
King, p79 286
EAM, November 1967, p462 287
Ibid, November 1963, p76 288
DLM, p37 289
EAM, November 1967, p462
73
Observing Henderson, Allison and Hudson’s roles at Alleyn’s, especially when all of them at one
point or another likened a school to a micro-society, perhaps it’s not too fanciful to see some
parallels between our headmasters with the prime ministers of this time. Henderson was becoming
out of touch with the reality of education reform – in a way that is (somewhat) reminiscent of
Chamberlain’s clinging on to appeasement as a solution to divert Europe descending into war.
Allison was the flamboyant, Churchillian leader who led the School through its darkest hours; and
Hudson, Attlee-like, was the dogged administrator and overseer of great change at Townley Road.
74
Masters and mistresses at Alleyn’s
‘The staff were a motley collection, several having retired long before the war.’ Dr Norman Wetherick
(B, 1941-48)
The staff at Alleyn’s were a dedicated, if fractured, collection of men (and women) in the 1940s. War
– as with all aspects of life – threw routine into disarray and as teachers were called up to join the
Forces, retired members of staff were persuaded out of their rest to return to the school gates to
teach. Peter Wrench (C 1945-49) remembered ‘”Mumbler” McClymont (1929-53)290
, who was a very
elderly gentleman who had come back because of the shortage of teachers and I think was then in
his eighties’. Latin master, Mr RE Taylor (1906-45), who, but for an absence during the First World
War, had taught at Alleyn’s since 1906, extended his working life for Alleyn’s at the outset of war:
When after a long and arduous career he was looking forward to a well-earned rest in retirement he
was plunged into all the worries and extra work of the evacuation and was Second Master while the
School was at Maidstone and Rossall… He returned to the Emergency School in 1944 and finally
retired at Easter, 1945.291
Alan Thomas (SLESS, 1940-41) saw an advantage in being taught by retired teachers because they
‘had gained command of their subject and how to teach it’.
Masters were called up from within the Alleyn’s Common Room – Robert Young (1935-71) was the
first to be called up, and he claimed that ‘the authorities soon got onto other members of the staff
as well, and if Henderson had not been a personal friend of the then minister for war, he would have
lost most of his staff’292
. Mr Eayrs (1905-45) straddled both serving the School and joining the war-
effort in these years.
Mr Eayrs joined the staff in 1905, after going through the school as a boy. To all present members of
the staff this is almost a pre-historic date, and… he has been a witness of all the changes through
which the school has passed…. In 1939 he was called up by the War Office and spent two years in
charge of an internees camp. Reaching the age limit, he returned to the Emergency School, and is now
retiring to his well-earned rest.’293
.
Mr Wrench told us that ‘as the war time went on there were more masters coming back from
service – probably got injured or something and then came back to the staff’. It is likely that another
reason men were returning from the Forces was because the teaching profession became a reserved
occupation294
. This state of flux continued after VE and VJ Day when teachers were demobbed and
returned. Arthur Chandler (Bn 1941-48) commented ‘From serving in the Forces, came Masters
unknown to both sets of boys. In turn, these Masters did not know where the boys had spent the
290
Years in brackets by teachers’ names denote their years of teaching at Alleyn’s. 291
EAM, July 1945, p177 292
Young, p107 293
EAM, November 1945, p197 294
‘By 1943 there was a real danger of a collapse of science teaching in some secondary schools…. When the
age of reservation from the call-up for teachers was raised from 30 to 35 an exception was made for graduate
teachers of mathematics, physics, chemistry and engineering…. The situation had become so grave that the
Ministry of Labour agreed in principle to the release from the services of science and mathematics teachers of
28 and over where this could be agreed with the particular service.’ Gosden, p104
75
war years,’295
whether this had been at Townley Road or up at Rossall. One such demobbed master
was Mr Bickford-Smith (1936-43) who ‘returned as Modern Languages Master after being in the
Intelligence Service since 1940.’296
After the war there was a severe shortage of manpower. Sir John Maitland (1920-49) was one
elderly teacher who, the magazine explained in his eventual valete: ‘Partly from personal reasons,
partly owing to the shortage of masters, Sir John has stayed on many years longer than the normal
span…’297
Additional duties
During the war, the masters and mistresses had additional duties thrust upon them. Not only were
they to impart an education but they were involved in the pupils’
welfare matters arising out of such war-time circumstances as air attacks and evacuation to savings
campaigns and school meals. Civil defence, fire guard, and Home Guard duties, milk, National savings,
school salvage collections, evacuees' wellbeing, holiday clubs and classes, the supervision of children
on agricultural camps and activities and the issue of children's additional clothing coupons.298
John Williams (R 1943-49) told us that ‘Mr Williams (who taught PT) had an office in the Gym and he
was the official person to have us weighed and checked for height, and I believe this had a bearing
on the issue of clothing coupons’.
There have been times in the course of this research that I have wondered whether, especially
during the war, the teachers ever had a break from the confines of the School as there are frequent
mentions of them taking boys on holidays, to harvest camps and trips. The Edward Alleyn Magazine
reported the stalwart efforts of Victor Haslam (1928-55) at the Farm Camp of 1947 – though to my
eye it looks like he went above and beyond the call of duty:
The arrival of Mr Haslam at the camp had what can only be described as a devastating effect. The
sandwich party on reporting for duty was overwhelmed to find that alone and unaided Mr Haslam
had done all the work. Henceforward the camp graciously waived its right to prepare sandwiches.
When the kitchen was unable to find work for this model of industry he insisted on helping in the
bean field, and irritated the other workers by constantly making the unpopular remark that he just
loved picking beans!299
Brian Savory (Bn 1938-45), in his personal memories, paid tribute to the masters’ – and their wives’ –
devotion, especially at Rossall:
In the main, schooling at Rossall was great fun. Because we lived in a closed community we got to
know the staff better than simply [as] our teachers. Many of them were Housemasters, doing a
previously unknown job extremely well. Also their wives were ladies that we could turn to as ‘Mums’.
We never appreciated how much these adults sacrificed to ‘parent’ us ‘war-orphans’. We certainly
owe them a belated tribute.
295
Chandler, p109 296
EAM, November 1946, p271 297
EAM, November 1949, p603 298
Gosden, p116 299
Ibid, October1947, p392
76
This dedication was – as we have seen – recognised by the 1950s inspectors: ‘as a body the Masters
are extremely hard-working and give unsparingly of their time out of school hours’300
. Headmaster
RB Henderson (1920-40), in an appreciation of Albert Spring (1909-49) to mark Mr Spring’s
retirement in 1949, gave an indication of what he felt about the teaching profession:
Schoolmasters are the worst paid and most richly rewarded of all creative artists – good ones that
is.301
(Mr Spring was included in that number of good schoolmasters according to Mr Henderson – as well
as many of Mr Spring’s former pupils we have spoken to for both the 1930s and 1940s oral history
project.) In Ralph Allison’s papers about the School’s move from Maidstone to Rossall, he had this to
say about teaching:
As schoolmasters we are members of a profession with a strange and often not very flattering
reputation. Some like Mr Shaw are satiric about us, others like Mr Hilton sentimental, while the
majority of parents are frankly suspicious and I hope rightly so. They are suspicious of our long
holidays, of our proverbial aloofness from mundane affairs (an impression often founded upon
recollections of 30 or 40 years ago), and apprehensive of our desire to steal their sons from them.
Robert Young, for all his complaints about Sidney Hudson (1926-63), ‘never once in the next 25 years
attempted to leave Alleyn's’302
after his return from the Forces. Of Alleyn’s, he wrote:
The school… was a pleasure to teach in – the pupils eager to know and to do well, the staff open-
minded and talented. It had almost as distinguished a collection of colleagues as in pre-war days, and
it was strong in Music, Drama, Cadet Force and Athletics.303
The inspectors wrote approvingly in their 1950 report that the Headmaster
is helped by 37 full time Masters, one Mistress and one part-time Master, 24 of whom he has
appointed himself. As a staff the Masters are well qualified, almost all holding Honours degrees or
equivalent specialist qualfications in the subjects which they profess.304
Nick-names
Another aspect of the teaching staff of this era which continually strikes me is the nick-names they
all acquired. Ron Smale (B 1940-46) explained apologetically:
You will note, although now in my 80s, I still refer to the nick-names we gave to our past tutors, as
much out of reverence as for any other considerations, I hasten to add.
Our post-war group at the reunion gave a roll call of their teachers’ nick-names ‘”Soapy Hudson”,
“Ma” Wiggs, “Bub Jones” [short for ‘bubble’, his shape, said Derek Smith], “Puff Smith”, “Daddy
Haslam”, “Pussy Wright”, “Cis Upward”, “Lofty Logan”, “Mumbler Mack”, “Dom” Maitland, known as
“D.O.M.” [short for “Dirty Old Man” because of the stains on his tie]305
, “Doc Giles”, “Loopy Young”,
300
HMIs’ report, 1950, p4 301
RB Henderson quoted in EAM, November 1949, p602. 302
Young, p203 303
Ibid, p202 304
HMIs’ report, p4 305
Bill Jones (R 1935-42), in a letter, has another explanation for the ‘DOM’ epithet: ‘if lost for words he would
rub the knuckles of his hands together saying “I am Dominus-the-master”.’
77
“Wally Waters”, he was the woodwork master, “Wally Wastewood” was another one.’ Alan Eaglen
(Tn 1939-44) told us that Maths master, Mr ‘Polly’ Hutt (1907-44), would say to his class ‘I know you
called me Polly, and it’s not because I look like a parrot!’; in fact it was because, according to Bruce
Cox (Tn 1941-44)):
he taught us about triangles and squares and the next thing he would say was ‘a polygon, boy, a
polygon, and I know what you’re going to say when I go out “poly’s gone”,’ and he kept the nickname
even though he knew it. He had fingers six inches long and he would wag his finger whilst twisting his
moustache.
Many of the teachers were a little eccentric. Mr Smale concurred:
Nearly all schoolmasters in the eyes of their charges have weird mannerisms and ours were no
exception. I have fond memories of our classics master, Mr McClymont or ‘Mumbling Mac’ as he was
more popularly known. He would roam the corridors reciting Latin and Greek verses, totally
regardless of his surroundings. When teaching, he would make the boys decline Latin nouns and
conjugate verbs out loud. This led to a chorus of obscenities of which he, lost in a world of his own,
was entirely oblivious.
Dr Wetherick also remembered ‘Mumbling Mac’: he ‘had the habit of addressing small boys in Latin
or Greek (sometimes also Hebrew, I was told) and clipping their ear when they failed to respond.’ He
brings to question the wisdom of keeping teachers on beyond their retirement age:
With [Mr MyClymont ] I did Latin subsid. for HSC [Higher Schools Certificate], which meant that I had
to write three papers in one day. The third (Latin set books) turned out to be about Virgil, Aeneid VI
and I had studied Virgil, Georgics. So I failed Latin… CJ McClymont had not noticed the change of
syllabus but what was more interesting was that I could not persuade him that it mattered. As far as
he was concerned if you could read Virgil you could read Virgil and that was that.
But that said, Dr Wetherick generously declares that McClymont ‘was by far the most important
cultural influence on me,’ although curiously adding, ‘we spent very little time on Latin.’
Mr Smale wrote about Maths master ‘Polly’ Hutt’s ‘pet idiosyncrasy’ which was
to go all round the form asking each boy to recite the theorem of Pythagoras which reads, as every
schoolboy knows, ‘In a right-angled triangle the square on the hypotenuse is equal to the sum of the
squares on the other two sides’. Boys, anxious to demonstrate their knowledge, duly trotted out
these words only to be contemptuously dismissed. Eventually the mystery was explained. He objected
to the penultimate word ‘two’ on the grounds that, since a triangle has only three sides, the word
‘two’ was irrelevant (grammar and maths all in one lesson!).
Derek Smith regaled us with the bizarre way 'Pussy Wright' (1926-49) would start his day:
He used to cycle to school round the road we had, in to the junior school and someone would have to
open the door and he'd cycle down the corridor, cycle in, someone would have to open the classroom
door, he'd cycle up to his desk, park his bike on the edge of the desk and commence.
Women teachers
The 1940s saw the arrival of female teachers at Alleyn’s School. Jim French (R 1941-46) expanded:
78
Mistresses were an innovation at SLESS… The most memorable and formidable was Dora Wiggs, a
feisty spinster who was a brilliant teacher of French…. We had a handsome, cheerful tall lady Miss
Gaukrodger, who explained it was an old fashioned Yorkshire surname. She departed too soon. And
we had the delightful, petite and pretty art mistress, Terry Ratzer. As I have written in the Edward
Alleyn Magazine, most of the pupils, and I suspect many of the staff, were in love with her.306
Mr French was probably right about the boys being in love with the young Miss Ratzer (1943-47) –
several of our AOB-guests listed her as their favourite teacher. Peter Rodway (C 1942-50) admitted
to one of the tricks the boys got up to in her classroom:
Apparently during the art lesson, when Miss Ratzer walked up and down the room, the idea was to
drop your pencil on the floor and, as she walks past, you look up her skirt! How terrible, hey?
Disgraceful….
Mr Rodway remembered the boys’ envy of ‘“Basher” Bate, the School Captain, when he played the
lead in the School production of You Can’t Take it With You307
in 1945 – he got to kiss Miss Ratzer…
who was playing the female lead.’308
Mr Smale named the first female teacher to climb the steps to teach at Alleyn’s as ‘Miss Gaukrodger
followed by Miss Wiggs. The former was greeted with awe by the boys who were somewhat
overcome by the presence of a lady in the form room. Miss Wiggs was more down to earth and was
quickly accepted.’ At SLESS more female teachers joined the payroll and they were given their own
Common Room situated immediately to the right of the School’s entrance.
I think it fair to say that ‘the redoubtable’ French mistress Miss Dora Wiggs (1942-67) made a strong
impression on her ‘élèves’309
. At a recent Annual Dinner a new award was announced before 144
guests. This was the ‘Scrase, Wiggs and Wrench’ award310
and as the award was being introduced,
the name ‘Dora Wiggs’ brought a groan of satisfaction from the assembled guests – some 44 years
since she last taught at Alleyn’s. Certainly our visitors remembered her well. Alan Eaglen (Tn 1939-
44) told us about her first lesson:
I had her for her very first lesson in school. She started speaking to us in French to a completely blank-
faced class: she never spoke a word of English as far as I can recall during that lesson.
John Holt (S 1945-51) described her in great detail:
I came face-to-face with the ‘rather fierce-looking lady’ – I was in Form ‘Shell B’ and she was my form
mistress. Her name was Miss Wiggs and to my surprise I found that she was usually a most charming
lady. However, this was provided you did not step out of line! If you did, she could be a real dragon.
She was also our French teacher and woe betide anyone who gave her less than 100% effort in class
or in their homework.
Mr Holt expanded on her exacting standards:
306
Chandler, SLESS, p19 307
By George S Kaufman and Moss Hart. 308
Ibid, p22 309
Peter Rodway (C 1942-50) 310
AOBs Rodney Scrase DFC (Tn 1937-39) and Peter Wrench (C 1945-59) created this award as a tribute to the
Alleyn’s CCF and their French teacher in 2011. This award recognises the best Year 13 air cadet in the CCF.
79
we started to discuss a piece of homework that she had recently marked. I then said to her, in view of
the mark that she had given me, ‘I should obtain a Pass all right in my School Certificate exam’.
She turned on me – like some dragon – ‘Listen laddie!’ she said, ‘If the sum total of your ambitions is
just to obtain a Pass you can leave my class right now. I am only interested in Distinctions!’
In the event, out of a class of 19 pupils, her class obtained 12 Distinctions (over 70%) and seven
Credits (over 50%) – not one mere Pass…. There was even an article mentioning her outstanding
achievement in one of the national newspapers.311
It is worth including David Taylor (T 1956-63)’s reminiscences of Miss Wiggs here – although, strictly
speaking, he is from a later decade – but his memories of her are shared by many AOBs:
She was possibly the best teacher of my school career. Her enthusiasm and energy for French
conveyed itself to most of us – me, certainly, and I retain my schoolboy French learned with her to
this day. From the second year when I was first taught by her, lessons were conducted almost wholly
in French. She seemed to have boundless energy and humour.…
I wasn't in the least surprised to learn a few years back that she had links with the Resistance during
the war. There was something charismatic about her that was indefinable. She didn't brook any
nonsense whatsoever, but there was a twinkle in her eye and a ready smile too.’
Mr Rodway probably wouldn’t have agreed with Mr Taylor as naming Miss Wiggs as his favourite
teacher: ‘She once read a French essay of mine I had done for homework, out to the whole class –
she said it was a perfect example of how not to write a French essay! I still don’t know what actually
wrong with the essay but it was quite humiliating.’312
Mr Rodway explained that Miss Wiggs:
was renowned for disappearing for lengthy periods – nobody quite knew why until after the war. She
had actually been flown out to France every now and again to help out with the Resistance.
Mr Thomas told us that he thought Dora Wiggs ‘was the least likely Resistance-worker you could
imagine, very, very quiet’ – perhaps this worked to her advantage in her Special Operations
Executive (SOE) career? John Cleary (B 1945-51) lived near Miss Wiggs and he told us that
In the latter stages of the war she was dropped into France and was brought back out after about
three weeks. In actual fact she only lived round the corner from me in Clapham. And famously on one
occasion she came into the class and handed out all the exercise books then she’s standing there with
mine – and she knew all the French people in Clapham – and she said “Cleary, who helped you with
your homework?” And I said “No one Miss”. “It wouldn’t happen to have been Madame Raymonde by
any chance, would it?” She knew. It was too colloquial and she knew the region of France that it was
from.
I’ve been unable to find out exactly what Miss Wiggs got up to in her SOE missions. Indeed it would
be wonderful to find out – and to see how she squared her prolonged absences with the school
authorities. She was decorated by General de Gaulle in 1946 for her services to the Free French. In
1951 she was given the Palmes Académiques by the French government for distinguished service in
the teaching of French.
311
King, p74 312
Mr Rodway clearly overcame his humiliation as in 1948 he shared, with Mr Wrench, the School’s Canon
Carver Languages Prize.
80
Favourite teachers
We asked our AOBs who their favourite teachers were from the 1940s. Ted Robinson (Tn 1938-41)
said ‘I didn’t really have a favourite. In fact I was awesomely overwhelmed’. Mr Robinson later wrote
to defend his lack of a ‘favourite’ teacher, saying:
Intake pupils to the Junior School (in 1938) had to cope not only with new subjects, but with
considerable homework and weekly tests. Repeated failure with, for example, the inability to recite
the week’s minimum 12 lines of verse was punished with the cane. Schooling then was Spartan,
awesomely so. Only later, when teaching would become a more personal communication of advice,
facts and instruction between teacher and pupil, could one think in terms of a ‘favourite teacher’.
Some of our pupils did own up to having a favourite – these were ‘Monty’ Crewe, Freddie Goldner,
‘Daddy’ Haslam, Dicky Rudd, ‘Puff’ Smith, Albert Spring and Mr Tribe.
Monty Crewe (1931-70), Mr Cox told us, was
the commanding officer of the OTC. He was quite a character as far as I’m concerned: he used to
come up on parade on his wife’s bicycle – a big old bike with a basket on the front. In particular he
taught physics and chemistry and he used to demonstrate mercury to show us how to light
phosphorus; it was great fun running around with mercury in your fingers! We didn’t have goggles, no
health and safety, didn’t know what it was in those days.
Mr Eaglen added ‘It was great fun he also used to say “if you mix this together it would make a
terrible smell, stink to high heaven”.’
Peter Philpott (B 1934-43) wrote saying ‘I have fond memories of… having coffee in Fred Goldner’s
rooms with fellow Barnstormers [a Sixth Form group at Rossall]. He was a great and positive
influence on us and became a friend after the war.’ Dr Philpott added that Mr Goldner (1932-65)
‘was very much our mentor in academic matters and encouraged us into working for Cambridge
scholarships’. Mr Smale too ‘shall always be grateful to Mr FN Goldner, Brading’s Housemaster at
that time, for his sympathy and wise counsel.’ Mr Goldner sounded like a lot of fun too – and
certainly one of those members of staff who sacrificed his own time to care for the evacuated boys.
Dr Philpott remembered cycling back from a water polo match in Kent where, consummate teacher
that he was,
Fred explained that the reason that he could free-wheel downhill faster than the rest of us was due to
his greater girth, since the pull of gravity was proportional to the cube of his radius whilst the air
resistance was only proportional to the square of his radius!
Dr Wetherick had fun with Fred too: he ‘assisted him in stage managing school productions. We used
an ancient flash powder apparatus (pre-electric) for the entries of Amor (god of love) in the school’s
Orfeo (Gluck)….’.
Mr Haslam, with his rather peculiar nick-name of ‘Daddy Haslam’, understandably won the affection
of the boys. Derek Smith had Mr Haslam as his form master
and he was a kindly, soft spoken men. He taught maths, algebra, geography, history, English and
nature study, which seemed to be his favourite subject. He set us projects, such as collecting different
81
wild flowers and tree leaves, which we pressed into writing books; also drawing all different birds and
naming them.
He clearly was an approachable man; Gerry Thain (Tn 1938-44) nominated Mr Haslam as his
favourite – and gave us another nick-name for the man – ‘Wooje [sic] Haslam’. Mr Thain said he was
‘a very friendly master, very easy-going, good sense of humour. His room at Rossall was on the
landing of our dorm and you could feel free to go into his room without any problem’. There is an
idyllic scene of boys at Rossall being occupied with the Middle School Club. In Drama & Music: The
Performing Arts at Alleyn’s, the Revd Canon Michael Swindlehurst (R, 1941-48) wrote ‘Play-reading
was a popular activity. We had a splendid Middle School Club, run by a laid-back master, Victor
Haslam, whose chutney we had to stir while rehearsing.’313
Another favourite master was Dickie Rudd (1907-44), an English teacher. Mr Eaglen said of him ‘he
was a Somerset man, lovely chap. I had him every school year and I remember a book called In
Chimney Corner by Jan Stewar, set in a small, West country village. It was great because he would
read it to us in his Somerset accent every term, lovely man.’ Mr Rudd was one of those masters who
returned to the Alleyn’s buildings to teach at SLESS and it sounds like he worked hard to keep
everyone’s morale up. In a defence to the accusation that at SLESS, the boys ‘had not been taught
any music whatsoever at SLESS,’ Alan Mackesy (D 1943-50) countered
one suddenly remembered these performances by Rudd (who Arthur Chandler was later to write, was
one of the ‘bastions of strength in the consolidation of SLESS’) and realised that they had (and that
Tyson had obviously so intended) veritably boosted the morale and solidarity of the (Emergency)
School during London’s dangerous war-torn years. We looked forward to them with enthusiasm, we
came away from them uplifted ‘and’ in Swinburn’s words ‘our hearts were fulfilled with the music he
made with us.’314
Rudd and Tyson (1911-47) sound like a talented duo: Rudd’s
‘music lessons’, delivered in the Great Hall to the whole of the first year (3A, 3B & 3C) – and
occasionally to the whole of the first and second years together, invariably consisted of Rudd himself,
inspired and encouraged by Headmaster Tyson, playing the piano usually to accompany himself
singing solo especially when introducing songs previously unknown to his audience, e.g. ‘Riding down
from Bangor on an Eastern train’ and ‘Oh lucky Jim! How I envy him!’315
For Sandy Alexander (B 1938-47) ‘My favourite teacher was ‘Puff Smith’ in music, no question!’316
–
although Dr Wetherick admitted ‘Smith I mainly recall for his vicious temper tantrums….’. Given the
numbers of operettas, concerts, ballets and other performances Puff produced during his teaching
career at Alleyn’s, Norman Spurdens (Tn, 1932-41) – like me – pondered ‘I shall never know how he
managed to fit all this into his other teaching work’317
. The Rt Hon Lord Higgins KBE, DL, (D, 1940-46)
wryly observed that Smith’s ‘physical method of inculcating French verbs would be illegal today.’318
313
Drama & Music, p55 314
Chandler, SLESS, pp20-21 315
Ibid 316
For more information about WJ Smith, please see ‘Musical wonderland’ chapter. 317
Drama & Music, p55 318
Ibid, p52
82
WJ Smith (1925-48) was largely responsible for the entertaining the boys during their ‘exile’. Whilst
in Kent, the magazine reported that,
Last term the Director of Music added to his many musical enterprises the production of Molière’s Le
Médecin Malgré Lui in modern dress….
It is greatly to the credit of the players that many among the audience who were on their own
confession no French Scholars witnessed the performance with obvious relish, for the zest with which
the cast entered into the spirit of Molière’s fun owed more perhaps to the traditions of Hollywood
‘slapstick’ that to those of the classic French comedy. Which amply demonstrated that the
fundamentals of comedy have not changed with the centuries.319
Let’s hope these actors did not have to endure Smith’s method of inculcating French verbs… As
indicated in the Molière review,
Puff had a ‘strange knack of spotting talent’. When he heard HC (David) Franklin bellowing at the
Officer Training Corps, he told him: ‘If you can shout like that you can sing’. Franklin indeed went on
to sing Principal Bass roles at Covent Garden and Glyndebourne, after many appearances on the
Alleyn’s stage.320
Smith was no back-seat educationalist. In March 1944, the magazine reported that he went to a
conference on ‘Education for Democracy’ and spoke about it to the Fifty Club.
Mr Smith had added to the conclusions reached by the conference knowledge gained from his own
hard reading and experience. Discussion afterwards further stimulated interest in both the theory and
practice of education. An interesting and instructive talk was much appreciated.321
He later went on to publish Music in Education and, for one so involved with his pupils, it feels
pertinent that he, one who involved the boys in every project he carried out, developed his
burgeoning theories on music in education in discussion with his pupils. In his book, Smith advocates
knowing the boy, having his friendship and trust so that you discover why he is lazy, and working with
and for him until you have turned him into an industrious enthusiast.322
Hudson recognised Smith’s magic and at the end of his final concert acknowledged that Smith did
‘great and important work… during the past 24 years in giving to generations of Alleyn’s boys
something fine which would remain with them for the rest of their lives.’323
Quite a number of our boys cited Albert Spring, Headmaster of the Lower School, as their favourite
master. Alan Jackson (C 1945-51) told us that ‘the greatest influence upon me from the teaching
staff was Mr Spring who seemed to be respected by everyone. I was very fortunate to spend my
second year with Bert Spring as my form tutor.’ In the years up at Rossall, as we have seen324
, Mr
Spring’s wife, Doreen, acted as a mother to the boys. She was also a musician and an expert in
dramatic make-up. Later their son Ken (1946-66) joined the staff as art master and ‘the Spring family
319
EAM, November 1940, p391 320
D&M, p40 321
EAM, March 1944, p84 322
Smith, p110 323
EAM, November 1948, p474 324
See ‘Rossall’ chapter.
83
was the nucleus for two generations of the support team for school theatricals.’325
At Rossall, Frank
Halford (R 1942-49) remembered Bert Spring’s ‘wonderful reading voice. He would read to us on a
Sunday evening before bedtime – Prester John I recall was one book’. As we have seen, Ralph
Henderson was a great fan of Albert Spring, writing that there is a ‘…small select company of born
schoolmasters, and it is to these that we are bold to say that Mr Spring belonged.’ Henderson
concluded that
All the countless boys who have been through the Junior School owe much – some owe all – to him,
and he has had the joy of seeing them pass through the School after they have left his hands… He has
seen promise fulfilled time and time again and
(in an oddly realistic vein)
even in the case of those who were not quite so successful as they ought to have been, he could
always say to us ‘Well, you have been warned!'326
Of Ken Spring, Robert Young wrote that he spent his ‘war career as a pacifist bomb-disposal officer
and then a captaincy in the Gunners in Burma.’ This ties in with what Derek Smith recalled at our
reunion:
Mr Hughes: Ken Spring… he’d served in the war and been injured, captured was he? He was an
art teacher if I remember right?
Mr D Smith: … I remember the first term he served at Alleyn’s he was the art master and our
first project was to draw a picture of Burma – a train in the jungle. And he worked I
believe on the Burma railway…. He clearly had a ghastly time but he never spoke
about it. It was just part of the impression in my mind. At the time he didn’t really
mean much. We were just doing these paintings and drawings of trains in a jungle.
For Gordon Feeley (SLESS 1941-50), Mr Tribe, the woodwork master, was his favourite master, ‘who
I got on very well with… He taught me lots of different skills. I was never very good at it and he
taught me how to make a chessboard by stripping down a piece of wood and cutting them into
perfect shapes but when mine came out you really couldn’t tell what was white and what was
brown. I do remember one occasion when he taught us safety with tools and not to whack two
hammers together. One boy did that and ended up in hospital with a bit of metal in his eye so we
never did that again.’
Memorable masters
There are some masters who remain in the memory of our AOBs for their excellence of teaching,
their timid nature, the strictness as well as eccentricities.
Micky Stewart still remembers a rather unkind comment made to him by Geoffrey Charnley (1947-
58), the geography master who also (not surprisingly given Mr Stewart’s interaction with him) ran
cricket.
325
Young, p95 326
EAM, November 1949, p602
84
The first words he ever said to me – what, I would have been 14, I think – he just stopped whatever
he was telling us, and started looking at me for ages and said ‘Stewart, that’s not a nose you have in
the middle of your head, it is an additional limb’. And then just carried on.
The boys were as capable of making rude comments and playing cruel games on their masters. One
master, Mr Dodd (1917-55), who limped. Our AOBs had various explanations for the cause of his
limp.
Mr D Smith: Do you remember ‘Beadle Bob [or ‘Bop’ according to Peter Wrench]’?
Mr Wrench: Oh yes. He was called that because of the sound of his walk (rubber soles and creaking)
Mr D Smith: He was injured in the First World War, wasn’t he?
Mr Wrench: No he actually lost that leg under a tram in Lordship Lane.
Mr D Smith: He always came in on his stick to the form; he was a funny old boy….
Mr Wrench: It was a funny noise he made.
Mr D Smith: He’d put his stick on the front desk, then he’d hobble up and he’d start chalking up on
the board in French, and he’d look around, leaning on the desk, and then suddenly he’d come down
and start looking for his stick, and the lads had taken it all the way back to the back of the classroom
or hid it under the front desk, or something like that. He was a kindly man; it was sad, sick really.
Mr Wrench: He didn’t suffer fools gladly.
Mr D Smith: He would tell you off verbally if he found out who it was, but of course no one ever
owned up to it.
Mr Wrench: I remember on one occasion in the Upper Sixth when Peter Rodway and I were
translating, and it was about these workmen…, and Pete said all these Frenchmen were sitting there
with their hands round a hot ‘brassiere’ instead of ‘brazier’, and he said ‘Rodway!’ and rapped the
desk with his stick – so that was one of the funniest episodes with ‘the Beadle’.
Roy Barnes (Bn 1942-49) too remembered Mr Dodd; he ‘was a small man and never smiled; he was
clearly often in pain, but though on the verge of moroseness, he was never bad-tempered, never
raised his voice. He had been at Alleyn's since 1917….’ Mr Barnes too recalled a cruel joke played on
‘the Beadle’ – which one can’t help thinking that with a little aforethought could have been avoided
on Mr Dodd’s part:
In the corner of our form-room was a stock cupboard, where Mr Dodd kept stationery and stocks of
books for all the Sixth Forms. He would unlock the door and 'be-bop' in every morning, leaving the
key in the lock until he came out. One morning, another joker crept up when he was inside the
cupboard, shut the door and locked it. Nobody laughed, but we all waited. Sure enough, Mr Dodd
knocked on the inside of the cupboard door, politely like a chamber-maid at a hotel.... The same boy
crept out, unlocked the door and returned to his seat. Mr Dodd came out, went to the dais and his
desk, placed the pile of books there, and began the lesson. Not a word of complaint.327
Another master who perhaps shouldn’t have been in the school classroom was Dr Giles (1942-70),
English master. Dr Wetherick thought ‘He should have been a university lecturer (in Spanish
327
Barnes, p153
85
Literature). The ignorance and insensitivity of his pupils sometimes moved him to tears in class….’.
But Dr Giles managed to impress the boys on the football pitch in a match between the School 1st XI
against The Masters. Mr Holt reported we
were amazed to see that Dr Giles had been picked to play at centre-forward for the Masters XI. He
was a small, frail-looking man and I would guess, not that strong.
The match started and it was not long before we saw that Dr Giles was running rings round the
school’s defence. Nobody had told us before the match that he had been a Welsh Amateur
International centre-forward!328
Dr Giles taught English with Edward Upward (1932-61). Mr Barnes ‘found [Upward] a charming man,
very quietly spoken and gentle. There were only four or five of us in the Lower Sixth, preparing the
English subsidiary paper for Higher Certificate, so we had this brilliant man to ourselves; no class-
room was available, so we used to sit round a table on the stage in the Main Hall, discuss literature,
read poems from the set book Palgrave's Golden Treasury, discuss Shakespeare's Julius Caesar and
have our essays analysed.’329
As is widely known,
EF Upward was a minor member of the Auden/Isherwood set but I did not find out till 20 years later
that he was the most hard-line Marxist of them all. Possibly he had been warned against
indoctrinating his pupils but the effect was that he would never express an opinion on any subject,
including English literature. That limited his usefulness as a teacher.330
Mr Barnes added an interesting insight:
Like so many gifted writers of the 1930s, who had social consciences, he [Upward] joined the
Communist Party and later became disillusioned. The late 1940s was not a good time to be a
Communist, since most of us expected to be at war with the Soviet Union before the end of the
decade, and Upward was viewed with some suspicion by many boys and masters.331
I do wonder how the School reconciled its continuing appointment of a known Communist during
this time? Mr Halford, a former teacher himself, named ‘Captain JA Taylor ‘Boob’ who taught Latin’
as an excellent teacher at Alleyn’s. ‘We would repeat by rote the declensions and conjugations until
they were firmly fixed. I can still say “Bonus, bona, bonum, bone, bona, bonum” and so on until
“bonis six times”! His invariable punishment for a latecomer was to write out 100 times, “Punctuality
is the politeness of princes”.’ Mr Barnes also remembered Captain Taylor (1934-48):
He wore blue-tinted spectacles, which gave him an air of perpetual mystery, was not a tall man but
was strong and ferocious. He was also commanding officer of the Cadet Corps and ran his Latin
classes like a military drill parade. We learnt the declensions of nouns and conjugations of verbs by
reciting them in unison with him conducting us from the front....
Mr Barnes added:
…he also believed in the value of silence when he set us written exercises, total silence that is, no
shuffling of feet, no sneezing, no coughing, clearing of throats. No-one dared to whisper, hardly
328
King, p86 329
Barnes, p108 330
Dr Norman Wetherick (B, 1941-48) 331
Barnes, pp107-8
86
breathe in fact, let alone talk. One day I dropped a pencil in one of his classes, which caused him to
raise himself up from bending over the homework books he was marking on his desk and approach
me down the aisle. Uncanny how, without looking, he knew exactly where a disturbance was coming
from, even behind his back. He'd shout your name if you were quietly staring out of the window in a
daydream. I sat and waited. I feared only his voice, his sarcasm, he never used physical violence
against us and I don't remember his ever caning anyone, but his look, his voice, his presence…. 'You,
boy, have disturbed the peace, and will write out 100-times in your best copperplate “I must not hurl
my false teeth up and down the room”, and let me have them by Saturday.' No-one even dared to
giggle.332
A colleague, Mr Shackleton (1937-67), a cousin of the great explorer Ernest Shackleton, also had the
unnerving ability to identify miscreants with a sixth sense:
Mr Shackleton (we called him ‘Shack’ – behind his back, of course!) – was reputed to be the most
strict master at the school. He used to take us for both English Grammar and English Literature and
during our first English lesson, someone at the back of the class spoke. ‘Detention, Smith!’ said Mr
Shackleton, without even bothering to look up. As far as I can remember, he did not put anyone else
on detention, as nobody dared put a foot wrong after that.333
John Hughes (C 1945-51) fell foul of ‘Shack’s law’:
I was keeping goal just the other side of Townley Road. In my youth, one of my heroes was a player,
Vic Woodley, who kept goal for Derby County and Chelsea. He always wore a cap, so I borrowed my
father’s peaked cap. I was keeping goal thinking I was Vic Woodley and Mr Shackleton came by. He
said, ‘what an earth do you think you are doing boy, hand that cap over to me?’ I had to give it to him
and he said I could come and get it from the staff room; I had to go home and tell my father ‘you
won’t have your cap for the moment’. I had to retrieve it, but I never ever forgot that incident. Mr
Shackleton was beside himself because I was ‘disgracing’ the school.
Another disciplinarian was the aforementioned Mr Hutt. James Maple (Bn 1942-50) was caught, off-
site:
I remember walking home with two friends in December 1942 up Beauval Road, when we saw a holly
tree in a garden. We climbed on the garden wall and picked some branches with berries. Suddenly a
voice behind us said, ‘what are you boys doing? Do you live here?’ It was Polly Hutt. ‘No sir! We were
just picking some holly!’ ‘You are stealing some holly!’ ‘But sir, it’s only a little bit!’ ‘Oh, you know, a
young lady once stole a baby from a pram? The judge said to her, “why did you do it?” “Well, it was
only a little one!” she said. ‘Big or little, it’s still stealing,’ said Polly Hutt. I’ve always remembered.334
Sir John Maitland335
was a character. Mr Savory wrote
I have fond memories of being taught Latin by Sir John Maitland right up to Matriculation. Sir John’s
enthusiasm for his subject was such that he brought alive even such phrases as ‘All Gaul was divided
into three parts’. At the end of one term he taught us to sing ‘Sub lata castanea ego amat tu et tu
amat me’ [‘Underneath the spreading chestnut tree I loved you and you loved me’]. Sir John was also
a great character. Catching a boy running across the Quad he demanded his name; followed by, ‘and
332
Ibid, p105 333
King, p76 334
Chandler, SLESS, p21 335
Sir John Maitland inherited the title of 6th
Baronet of Clifton in the County of Midlothian in 1936.
87
who is your Form Master?‘ ‘You are, sir,’ the boy replied. ‘Very well,’ said Sir John, ‘I’ll have a word
with him in break.’
Mr Barnes gave a good description of Sir John: he ‘… was another military man of the old breed, but
he had become eccentric and was a smallish man without an imposing presence. He was also
forgetful and absent-minded, and had probably been so for a long time…. Most of his sentences to
us used to finish, “You fool”.’336
For Mr Barnes, the key lesson he learned as a young boy who was
rather in awe of the aristocratic Sir John was that ‘He spoke to everybody, school servants,
gardeners, bus drivers and even 14-year-old schoolboys as absolute equals, everybody was worth
talking to.’337
One master was even prepared to wager his own money against his charge’s success. Mr Barnes
remembered Mr Lefevre:
…he was my history teacher… when I was preparing for the School Certificate examination in 1946.
One day he bet my half-a-crown, an enormous sum, worth about £10 today, that I would fail the
history paper. What a cheek!... He said that I didn't work hard enough. He must have been a very
shrewd psychologist, and a rich one at that, if he had very many such bets.... Mr Lefevre paid up
without a murmur.338
Another character was one of Bill Jones (R 1935-42) favourite masters, Sidney Incledon (1928-69).
Inky was an excellent physics teacher, very fit and a coach and player in practice matches with the
school soccer first XI…. Inky was with us at Maidstone, I remember more general science lessons in
the old Girls’ Grammar School. He did not go to Rossall, regrettably, and I only met him after the war
at the first Founders Day… Regarding Inky's fitness I can remember watching him playing in a 1st XI
practice match (the dreaded 'Compulsory Turnout') and out-pacing 17-18-year olds along half the
length of a soccer pitch. A great character!
Ivor Rees’s (1943-67) bold approach to the Ministry of Education’s inspection, so remiscent of the
blind confidence and enviable swagger of Henderson’s days, was reported by Young. He described
Rees as ‘one of the most competent teachers from SLES [sic]’ and he
really played [the Inspectors] up. He told the HMI that he, Ivor Rees, knew more about teaching
maths than he, the inspector, would ever know! And just left the inspector to take his form, while he,
Rees, went and chain-smoked and belly-ached in the Common Room.339
There is no mention of this incident in the actual HMIs’ report.
Two members of staff who are remembered by our AOBs creep on to the Alleyn’s stage towards the
end of this decade. They were both later to have an enormous impact on the lives on pupils and on
the School; they were the School Sergeant, Eric Randall (1948-88), and English master Michael Croft
(1950-55).
336
Barnes, pp105-06 337
Ibid, p111 338
Ibid, p118 339
Young, p212
88
Discipline and prefects
Interviewer: What was the most important thing you learnt at Alleyn’s?
Mr Hirst: I think discipline.
Mr Williams: Yes, discipline.
Mr Rodway: Yes, discipline and friendship. You see discipline was different, it was very strict in our
dress and the Masters always referred to us by our surname.
Mr Williams: They all had gowns.
Mr Rodway: I don’t think I was ever referred to by my Christian name.
All our AOBs concurred that there was a certain amount of disciplined formality at Alleyn’s. As Peter
Rodway (C, 1942-50) said, first-names were never used, not even socially; John Merrill (R 1942-48)
explained that even ‘If your surname was Smith, it was Smith 1, Smith 2, Smith 3…’, or, added Peter
Reeve (C 1941-48), ‘nick-names’.
John Holt (S 1945-51) recalled that
Each morning, [the Junior School] joined the Senior School for Assembly, which was held in the Great
Hall. We all had to be seated by 9am, and at that point, the door opened and up some stairs and on to
the stage, came a rather fierce-looking lady [Dora Wiggs], followed by the Headmaster and the other
teachers. During Assembly we would sing a hymn and a psalm and say prayers, then the Headmaster
would address us, informing us of forthcoming school events and administering rockets for various
misdemeanours!340
Dr Norman Wetherick (B, 1941-48) remembered that ‘discipline was arbitrary’ and at our reunion,
our AOBs’ memories of their misdemeanours – and others’ – came tumbling out as if they had
happened only yesterday. John Cleary (B 1945-51), not realising that the long arm of Alleyn’s law
reached out beyond the confines of Townley Road, said:
I lived in Clapham, and so did one of the members of staff, Mr JA Taylor, and I was not far from my
own front door on Clapham Common. I had my blazer on, but I’d taken my cap off. He spotted me and
I got a detention for that, because I didn’t have my cap on! I was outside school, in school uniform,
without my cap on.
Mr Rodway told us about what happened to Ken Napper (D 1945-50) who fell foul of the uniform-
rules. Napper ‘was very good in all things musical’ and had been the
soloist in a Mozart piano concerto in a school concert one Saturday, and Monday morning he was
called to the Headmaster’s office, expecting to be congratulated for his performance, and the
Headmaster admonished him severely for wearing a green pullover under his school uniform.
Given the shortages and dependence on clothing coupons at the time, this admonishment seems a
little unfair. Dr Wetherick made me laugh out loud with this particular misdemeanour:
One senior boy was publicly caned for looking at a display of female undergarments in a shop
window, in school uniform.
340
King, p74
89
Adding more prosaically, ‘I myself was threatened with the cane for failing to clean my glasses’.
In the aftermath of the war, there was felt to be a disintegration of discipline among young people.
Towards the end of this decade, young people ‘generally were increasingly being perceived as a
social category – and social problem – of their own’341
. This is an issue which WJ Smith referred to in
his book, Music in Education:
Finally there is contained in these pages [of Music in Education] an appeal for a new understanding of
the word 'discipline'. It will probably be urged that discipline is a crying need of to-day. Six years of
war, unduly high wages among young people, certain films, and a weakness in parental control have
all done their worst.342
Corporal punishment
Corporal punishment appears to have been part of the fabric of the School; Derek Smith (R 1947-53)
explained ‘we had no choice [but to accept corporal punishment]; everywhere you went there was
the slipper on the cupboard or the cane...’
Robert Young, history master, outlined the supposed guidelines relating to masters administering
corporal punishment at Alleyn’s:
Beating by the Staff could only be carried out by form masters on members of their own form, or by
House-masters on members of their own House, and it had to be carried out in the lower changing
room in the presence of another Master, and after the Housemaster had been consulted. This was to
prevent it happening when either Master or boy had lost his temper.
All well and good but Derek Smith remembered his friend receiving a caning without the ‘safety’ of a
witness:
Mr MacDonald, the Latin teacher, caught my class mate looking out the window, because we were on
the top floor, looking out over Townley Road, and he was caught looking out the window, and he was
taken down straight to the basement (no witness!), and when he came back, after, he showed me his
back, and he had these stripes all the way down and across his back, not just on the backside, as it
should have been... and he was a chap who wouldn’t cry, and he was in tears.
Alan Thomas (SLESS 1940-41) owned up to the indignity of having been caned: he hadn’t been
very naughty. I was talking during a class – I think I was set up, that’s my defence anyway – and I was
sent to the Headmaster, Dr Hack. I was caned on the hand – worse than the pain was the
embarrassment when I went back to the classroom.
Hearing and reading some of these accounts makes me suspect that some of the masters were
bordering on the sadistic. Roy Barnes (Bn 1942-49) described a particularly awful episode:
Dr Eccott, nickname 'Old Buzz', goodness knows why, who was distinguished by immense, sticking-out
ears like jug-handles, would read to us from elevating tomes such as Darwin's Origin of Species. One
such morning, when the fog was thick outside and the windows of our form room on the top floor
were misting over, I sat in my favoured position by the window near the back of the class, quietly
dreaming and trying to keep awake – sleeping in an Eccott class was a heinous offence, punishable by
341
Kynaston, p368 342
Smith, p15
90
three strokes of the cane.... I turned to the window now covered inside by condensation and drew
with my finger a round circle, then inspiration filling my being, I added two big round eyes and a
banana mouth turned down, then two huge circular ears that no-one could mistake. But to avoid
error, I decided to give the work a title. I began to write underneath the drawing 'Old Bu...' I got no
further, but felt an mighty thwack around my left ear, numbing the whole of that side of my face and
knocking me sideways into the wall. He'd seen me and he'd crept up on me and he'd delivered
judgement and punishment all in one fell swipe. Nothing was said. Silence reigned and Old B went
back to the front of the class and continued from where he'd been so rudely interrupted.343
Gallantly, Mr Barnes doesn’t appear to bear any grudges and continued:
Not all our masters – they were never called teachers – were quite so brutal as Dr Eccott, but they all
had their ways, and, of course, in those days summary physical punishment was an accepted means
of keeping control (or wreaking vengeance, as in the case of my Eccott-battered ear).344
In our 1930s oral history project, David Alexander (B 1933-42) recalled Robert Young’s way of
keeping control. Young’s ‘method of keeping order was to seize you by the hair and whirl your head
around. It was painful but effective’345
. It is interesting to read Young’s own observations on corporal
punishment during the pre-war and post-war years:
Before the war a sore bottom conferred a boost to the ego of the recipient. After the war it was
dismissed as sadism on the part of the staff, and masochism on the part of the pupil, and degrading to
both.346
One who was a pupil on the cusp of these years was John Hughes (C 1945-51) who philosophically
admitted that ‘in the end it paid you to obey orders or the rules, because the alternative [corporal
punishment] just wasn’t worth exploring. So in general you did as you were told, because life was
much easier than if you tried to kick over the traces, with punishment not being very pleasant.’
Admonishments and rewards
Praise should not be withheld. Be gracious, ready and pleased to observe improvement even in so
small a matter as a clean neck.347
Fortunately, not all masters and mistresses resorted to physical punishment. Peter Wrench (C 1945-
49) told us about the punishment inflicted on him by Mr Taylor:
I remember coming into the class one day, and we were all making a hell of a racket, and he had to
pick on somebody, so unfortunately his gaze happened to fall on me, and I had to write 500 times ‘I
must learn not to throw my false teeth into the next county’. I’d never quite forgotten those lines.
Detentions were also meted out and remembered by our AOBs. Mr Holt wrote that ‘we had to
attend School on Saturday mornings therefore detention was held on Saturday afternoons between
2-4pm, where one usually had to write out lines, which was jolly monotonous’348
. Derek Smith
343
Barnes, pp103-4 344
Ibid, p104 345
‘Alleyn’s in the 1930s’, p76 346
Young, p92 347
Smith, p110 348
King, p76
91
resented detention because it could be held on one of the sport afternoons, ‘which deprived you of
playing football and cricket, and you had to work on “Daddy” Haslam’s garden area, where you
would dig and dig all afternoon, or you would go in a classroom and do some lines or some silly
lesson or something’.
Happily, the boys weren’t all deserving of punishment. There were incentives if boys managed to
avoid the cane, the silence room and detention. Alan Tait (Tn 1940-45) remembered the ‘Good
Conduct Holiday’: this
took place once a month, where those who didn’t have a detention or a cane would get to go home,
at mid-day one Friday. You would go off and do your own thing, and it was a really good idea which
made a lot students behave. I sincerely recommend for Dr Savage to reinstate it.
Indeed…..
Colours too were given out – as they are today – to recognise a commitment to, and prowess in, a
particular area of School life. Young despaired (again) that
Mr Hudson refused in his headmastership to give colours to younger boys. He still regarded such an
action as likely to make them swollen-headed.
Young took as his example to illustrate Hudson’s pig-headedness from the following decade, but it is
worth recording here: ‘I even had an argument with [Hudson] when young David Fournel [S 1953-
57], at the age of 16, broke the school long-jump record. I wanted to give him full colours, but
Hudson dug his feet in and absolutely refused to allow such an award to one so young’349
.
Another bizarre ruling that many of our AOBs sniggered at was the rule that JAGS girls must ‘walk on
one side of the road – on the top side – and we had to stay on the school side (west)’350
. Mr Wrench
elaborated: ‘The headmistress of JAGS at the time made a ruling that her “gals” weren’t to stand at
the same bus stop going home. Obviously we all met up on the bus anyway but…’ The schools
seemed to do their best to avoid the twain from meeting: Derek Smith explained
We weren’t allowed out until [the JAGS girls] passed us. We used to watch them going by. I think they
finished at quarter to four and we weren’t allowed out until the hour.
Mr Merrill was punished for consorting with a JAGS girl:
I used to get the 62 or the 58 tram into school that came down the road there, and we were told, as
the entrance to our school was on this side, you will be on the right-hand pavement, and the JAGS
girls on the left-hand pavement. But it so happened that I had a neighbour whose daughter used to
catch the 58 or the 62 with me, and invariably both of us appeared to be late, I don’t know why, but I
was very good at geography, and she wasn’t, and she was good at maths, and I wasn’t, so we used to
sit on the back of the tram doing our homework like this, so it seemed natural to me to walk on the
other side of the road with her and about the third time that I did this, I was called in, told what the
rules were, and I disobeyed it, and I got six of the best, for walking up the other side of the road with
a JAGS girls.
349
Young, p231 350
Derek Smith (R 1947-53)
92
This segregation was meted out beyond Townley Road. Alan Eaglen (Tn 1939-44) recalled that ‘if you
were taking the train down at Herne Hill to go home, the boys from SLESS had to walk on the right
side and the girls on the left.’
School uniform
One boy was caught out on this route by the long reach of Alleyn’s rules. Mr Wrench remembered
the incident: ‘one of the senior boys, he might have even been a school prefect, was expelled for
being caught smoking wearing school uniform in Half Moon Lane.’ I wonder if he would have been
expelled had he not been wearing school uniform?
Derek Smith reminded us that the school uniform ‘was a sign of pride too, you had pride in being at
the school, whenever you walked around, you wanted to wear it’. The boys wore boaters,
introduced by RB Henderson as an outward sign to get ‘us out from being at an ordinary grammar
school to a public school’351
.Ted Robinson (Tn 1938-41) added that the ‘uniform was a discipline
worn with pride as the insignia of the particular school I had aspired to since the age of nine’.
It sounded as if the boys themselves gave their masters (and mistresses) a run for their money.
Young described how
The pupils would soon inform the teacher if he were to become unintelligible. Londoners loved wise-
cracks. If you used a word they did not know, such as the radio word 'juxtaposition', they would
mutter: 'We had one, but we put it in the pink plant pot, and it died!' Instead of rebuking, it was up to
the teacher to rephrase his remarks!352
Prefects
…the House system is strongly rooted and discipline based largely on an efficient body of prefects.353
The inspectors who visited in 1950 observed that these prefects ‘have power to punish any boy
above the Lower School; in fact internal discipline is largely in the hands of the prefects’354
. John
Williams (R 1943-49) shared an incident that, keen cricketer that he still is, must still rankle today:
An incident of discipline was the morning after I had made a 50 for the Junior School. Because of a
train delay, I came through the school gates 10 minutes late. The prefects on duty put a line under my
name and this was reported to Bert Spring, the Junior Head. At assembly he announced that Williams
(no Christian names used then) was 10 minutes late this morning and should this happen again, he
will not be playing for the School again this term. With that discipline, I took to getting an earlier train
thereafter, so as to not miss being in the School cricket 1st
XI.
Mr Eaglen mentioned the role of prefects in the supervision of boys at Alleyn’s.
I don’t know if anybody else can remember, but there was a silence room in which you were
supervised by a prefect and had to sit in for the whole of lunch playtime. It was a punishment which
could be given out by the masters and School prefects, unlike the cane which could only be used by
the Headmaster. You were not allowed to do anything but sit in silence, arms folded.
351
Peter Reeve (C 1941-48) 352
Young, pp210-11 353
EAM, October 1941, p474 354
HMIs’ report, p20
93
The prefect-system had been brought in by RB Henderson, Mr Reeve said, as one of the many ways
to ‘turn the School into a public school’. Gerry Thain (Tn 1938-44) remembered the prefects as
having ‘considerable responsibility – generally exercised sensibly and were respected’, although Mr
Merrill felt that ‘there were always some that were a little bit power-crazy...’. Derek Smith felt that
‘Generally they were respected, although some were considered a bit odd and others too
authoritarian. They ensured good behaviour in and outside School…’.
Mr Barnes, a School prefect, gave an interesting account of the scope of prefects’ duties and powers:
The School prefects had their own hut beside the main School building, where we met to discuss the
orders of the day, mainly looking after out-of-class discipline and stewarding School events and public
performances. We were allowed to cane offenders (I never did…). This had to be done before two
witnesses, who had to sign the entry in the punishment book made with the prefect administering the
caning. And we could give lines and keep people in detention. We were in fact the non-commissioned
officers for the teaching staff, and the School Captain was the Sergeant Major, who attended staff
meetings and had the ear of the Headmaster himself.355
There were two types of prefects at Alleyn’s: a House prefect and a School prefect. Mr Williams
explained the difference: ‘School prefects read the lesson EVERY morning and I believe had the right
to cane.’ As we have seen, Mr Williams knew from first-hand experience that these School prefects:
stood at the main gate and took names of late pupils or those that were improperly dressed. House
prefects looked after House matters in ensuring discipline was maintained.
For those prefects at Rossall, they added a guardianship role for their younger House members to
their duties. You can feel the warmth in Michael Gilbert’s (T 1944-50) recollection of his prefect, Jack
Lanchbery:
At that time, at nearly 11 years old, I was the youngest boy in the School [at Rossall]. Jack Lanchbery
was responsible for lights-out and at my dormitory he drew up the rules of our secret society, which
he sealed with the sealing-wax impression of his skull signet ring – we all adored him, and coveted his
skull ring too!356
Professor Leinster-Mackay (D 1943-50) wrote that at Rossall there was more scope for the exercise
of
leadership; invigilation of House prep; assembling others for House prayers before retirement to bed;
supervision of younger boys at mealtimes; supervision of House games and sports; supervision of
younger boys at mealtimes; supervision of letterwriting on Sundays – the opportunities for service
were legion compared with the 36 hours in a normal week of day school. As for School prefects –
those gladiators of gubernatorial power – their opportunities for leadership were much extended at
Rossall, not least of which was the responsibility of ensuring the safe arrival of new boys after a long
journey from Euston Station by the LMS Railway. They took on duties which you might say were,
pardon the pun, in loco parentis.357
355
Barnes, p155 356
D&M pp53-54 357
DLM, p10
94
Interestingly, by the end of this decade, prefects for younger boys in a day school were deemed
inappropriate – a point commented on by the inspectors; they reported that the Headmaster
[Hudson] and his staff believed
that when a boy of 11 years of age enters a large community from his primary or preparatory school
he is not sufficiently mature to take part in the full activities of a school run on the prefectorial
system. For two years [in the Lower School], therefore, [the pupil] is treated like a preparatory school
boy and at 13 is usually ready to play games organised by boys and to react satisfactorily to the
discipline of prefects.358
The drift and movement of boys caused by war meant that the usual year-long tenure of a School
Captaincy was shattered. School Captains would sometimes only hold office for a term – John
McAnuff (T 1936-43) was surprised, 70 years later, to be reminded that he had been School Captain,
albeit for just one term, in May 1943. In June 1941 JE Silvester was reported in the magazine as
being ‘Captain of the School for this term. Last term it was DG Bickford-Smith – he left to join the
RAFVR’359
.
The prefects – and Allison – at Rossall put on many concerts to entertain the boys. I suspect there
are a number of in-jokes in this tongue-in-cheek review of a Prefects’ Concert which was reported in
the magazine:
The rising hopes and fears of the day were at once forgotten with the announcement of an opening
item by ‘Allison’s Fallen Angels’, AP Herbert’s ingenious farce entitled ‘Hamlet, PC’, in which the title-
role was played by GN Coulter, a sketch, and community singing ably led by Sam Small, and a familiar
song by the Headmaster led to the climax of the evening – a grand new ballet.
We beg to quote from the local press: ‘Last night we saw a magnificent ballet with choreography by J
Lanchberikoff, a full corps de ballet, and pas seul by K Millerski… We did, however, observe a slight
disharmony between the simplicity of the décor and the lavish ensemble which imparted so aetherial
a quality to the prima ballerina’s perfect sense of movement. This new interpretation of Ponchielli’s
immortal masterpiece brings out to the full its sparkling vivacity, and M Lanchberikoff is warmly to be
congratulated on his venture. At the close of the performance MR Albert Rogers, the distinguished
horticulturalist, presented Mme Millerski with a beautiful bouquet de rutabaga as a token of
appreciation.’360
Being made a House Captain or School prefect was – and still is – a huge accolade. Mr Barnes was
made a House Captain and a School prefect, ‘giving me the great honour of being allowed to wear
the badge of Alleyn's College of God's Gift embossed in gold filament on the breast pocket of my
blazer’361
. This would lead to his later embarrassment as the ‘gold embossed badge bearing the….
the words 'God's Gift' on the breast pocket of our school blazer,’ would cause people to say, 'Ah,
here comes God's Gift'.’362
358
HMIs’ report, p5 359
EAM, June 1941, p431 360
EAM, March 1942, p522 361
Barnes, p155 362
Ibid, p109
95
The House system
‘It seems a long time since 120 new and rather bewildered boys sat in the Great Hall waiting to hear
their fate – their Forms, their Houses and their Form Masters… Since that time these boys have
become quite at home, and are well on the way to becoming real Alleyn’s boys.’ Edward Alleyn
Magazine, February 1948, p409
This scene, rather reminiscent of the Hogwart’s Sorting Hat ceremony, emphasises the importance
of the House to the running of Alleyn’s School. ‘Real Alleyn’s boys’ had been divided into Houses
since 1907. The House system was key in building up a sense of community and responsibility for
fellow House members, who all operated under the guidance of a Housemaster who played – as
they continue to play today – a pastoral role over the welfare of pupils. Roy Barnes (Bn 1942-49)
explained:
[The] House Captain… with the help of 'Prefects', other senior sixth formers, administered discipline
and organised compulsory games, mainly team games like rugby [sic] and cricket, with teams under
the direction of a team captain. These were said to teach discipline and unquestioning obedience.363
The House system had been expanded by RB Henderson – who added two Houses (Dutton’s and
Tyson’s) to the original six – and, as we shall see, it was flexible enough to adapt to changing
circumstances.
The House system went into abeyance when Alleyn’s was evacuated to Maidstone and boys were
billeted in villages all around Kent. However, when the Junior and Senior School boys were reunited
at Rossall the House system was reinstated and assisted in the acclimatisation of peripatetic London
day school boys into boarding school life in the wilds of the North West coast.
Back in London at SLESS, a new House system was adopted immediately as a way to group the new
pupil recruits. The Alleyn’s system of eight houses was used and these were given new names, after
Alleyn’s masters364
: a subtle way of branding SLESS under the Alleyn’s umbrella.
At Rossall, each of the eight houses had to suffer doubling-up with another and endure being re-
named at Rossall. Micky Stewart (T 1944-51) explained to our interviewers that ‘there were two
houses in each of the four buildings’ around Rossall’s main quadrangle which Alleyn’s used. Thus
Crescent House held Brading’s and Tulley’s, Rose House hosted Cribb’s and Roper’s, The Hall held
court to Brown’s and Dutton’s, and Spread Eagle (sometimes written as Spreadeagle) House
accommodated Spurgeon’s and Tyson’s. The Junior School boys went into James House.
In describing their new home in The Hall, the boys of Brown’s and Dutton’s proudly wrote:
There is something particular about ‘the Hall’: the very inclusion of a definite article raises us up
above those affiliated to mere heraldic symbols. We occupy a modern building, we live by the main
entrance drive to the school and we enjoy a very pleasant garden; but naturally there are drawbacks.
363
Barnes, p108 364
Allison, Bryant, Crewe, Evan, Fowler, McClymont, Rudd, Wright.
96
Instead of small studies we inhabit two large common rooms, but then the luxuries of big windows,
wide stairs and an efficient hot water system compensates greatly for that.365
The boys in Spread Eagle reported how they adapted to their new home and united a disparate body
of members:
January, 1941, found Spurgeon’s House combined with Tyson’s under the name of Spread Eagle and
firmly established as one body. Although one half of the boys in the House who had arrived from
Wales were complete strangers to the other half from Maidstone, a sensible spirit of co-operation
soon assured the smooth running of the House, and the unbounded enthusiasm of its younger
members was guided by its seniors into profitable channels and made itself apparent by the
unparalleled success of the House in the realms of physical activity.366
Other realms of activity were explored to build on each of the Houses’ spirit of co-operation. Spread
Eagle ‘revived the annual House supper, which was held in the lower dormitory… the House was glad
to welcome the Headmaster and Mrs Allison to their first House supper at Alleyn’s – the first House
supper,’ no less, ‘to which ladies have been admitted.’367
During the war, Housemasters attempted to keep their former members informed about House
matters but the difficulties of evacuation made this nigh on impossible. The Housemasters used the
magazine to announce that ‘they would therefore be very glad to hear from Old Boys of their
Houses, especially those in the services’ but very few reports from Old Boys followed; I suspect this
was largely due to the limits imposed by censorship. Certainly after the war there is a flurry of war-
time accounts from AOBs published in the magazine.
Spending Christmas away from their families must have been hard for the boys (and their parents):
often it was too dangerous for boys to return to London so they would have to stay in their
evacuated exile. Crescent House offered the magazine readers a chipper Christmas scene:
Christmas comes but once a year, and even the most fatigued of us suddenly discovered unknown
energy at the end of a wearying term. Lured on by a mental vision of a rumoured but elusive
Christmas pudding, Crescent prepared for its first House Supper. And after such a filling and hilarious
evening, we looked back more complacently on the term’s work.368
Spread Eagle, for its final House Supper at Rossall, had for its guests of honour no less a local
dignitary than the Mayor of Fleetwood and – and another lady – his Mayoress369
.
Some sixty years on, when our AOBs are asked to which House they belonged, many will still quote
their war-time House name, e.g. Spread Eagle, McClymont’s (as well as their Alleyn’s one).
After the war there is a sense that some efforts were being made to reconsolidate the original
identity of the Houses back on their home turf at Alleyn’s. It wasn’t easy. The writer of the
Spurgeon’s House report complained:
365
EAM, June 1941, p434 366
Ibid, June 1941, p436 367
Ibid, October 1941, p468 368
Ibid, March 1944, p7 369
Ibid, June 1945, p175
97
One point is clear – that a very considerable improvement [in inter-House activities] is necessary. The
support of several members of the House has been outstanding but the majority have lagged behind.
Not until every member of Spurgeon’s pulls his weight shall we reach a better standard. We hope that
all members will take note of this and that next term will see much greater enthusiasm and effort. 370
Perhaps this disinclination to play for the House was a reflection of what was happening on the
wider national stage. After years of ‘pulling together’ behind the war-effort – be it fighting at the
Front or collecting milk bottle tops at home or obeying countless war-time regulations (which
continued long into the post-war period), the public was starting to assert the rights of the private
individual. In 1945 the writer and broadcaster JB Priestley put it succinctly:
There seems to be far less kind and neighbourly co-operation than there was a few years ago, during
the worst of the war years…. People are harder, more selfish, more intent upon looking after Number
One. They are more likely to snatch, grab, lose their temper.371
A year after the Spurgeon’s complaint, Cribb’s joined the lament too:
Success in the House is due always to complete co-operation between the prefects and the other
members of the House. This is not possible when we have a small minority who hatch up trivial
excuses to prevent their taking part in House activities. Let’s have fewer of these excuses and make
the running of the House an easier task. 372
In 1950 the inspectors commented that,
The House system is emphasised much more than is usually done in a day school and boys are
encouraged to spend as much of their leisure time as possible on the School premises.373
However, by the end of this decade, a ray of reform appears amongst the Alleyn’s authorities,
possibly as a reargard action against the disintegration of a sense of community: the parents’ ‘At
Home’. The magazine writers explained its format:
Each fortnight the Housemasters and House Tutors of two Houses have given jointly an ‘At Home’ to
the parents of the boys in those Houses. They have been extremely successful. The attendance of
parents has been good and the gathering has enabled the masters and prefects to meet parents more
easily than they would otherwise have done.374
The wags on the magazine had a field day in reporting it, almost as an anthropological exercise:
‘Townley School was in the throes of a social revolution. At long last it had been decided to let the
parents meet the masters, if the shock to the former would not be too great.’375
Parody aside, this was a new – if not radical – function at Alleyn’s. By inviting the parents to meet
their sons’ Housemaster (and House prefects), the School was heralding the collaboration between
school, pupil and parent that exists today. This initiative was light years away from the School
370
Ibid, June 1947, p344 371
JB Priestley in Letter to a Returning Soldier, quoted in Kynaston, p180. 372
EAM, November 1948, p469; the House Captain for this year was one of our AOB-interviewees, Peter
Reeve…. 373
HMIs’ report, 1950, p20 374
EAM, May 1949, pp573-74 375
Ibid, p547
98
prospectus of the preceding decade: ‘The School has full claim on the time of the boys on all week-
days during term’376
. John Bate (T 1932-39) perceived that Henderson’s attitude was ‘that during the
term the boy belonged to the School and only went home to sleep, to be fed and watered, and to do
his homework.’377
By hosting these ‘At Homes’, Young noted how Alleyn’s was leading the field in terms of
collaboration with parents: ‘parents' meetings were one of the Alleyn's specialities long before they
became an item of educational policy…’378
He wrote,
After the war we had dozens of Parent's meetings, at which they could query what their sons were
being taught, and how….
Churlishly adding, ‘The only parents treated with decent respect were those who were OBs.’379
At
Speech Day in 1948, the Bishop of Bath and Wales expounded his views about education:
This cannot be done by the School alone - it means the active co-operation of the boys and their
parents. I cannot over-emphasise the importance of this last factor, a good home influence.
Nowadays it is all too common to find a home where there was an irregularity of some kind.380
Those inspectors looked approvingly on, perhaps even taking note:
Parents are encouraged to keep in close touch with him [the Housemaster], and he and his Tutors and
House Prefects are 'at home' to parents at informal gatherings in the School Buttery.381
It is interesting to see that Alleyn’s first tentative steps towards a more modern-day approach to
education was structured within the reassuring familiarity of its House system.
376
Referenced in the Board of Education’s Inspection Report on Alleyn’s, 1932, cited in ‘Alleyn’s in the 1930s’,
p27. 377
Ibid 378
Young, p220. Today Alleyn’s hosts ‘Year 9 House at Home’ meetings for parents. 379
Ibid, p99 380
EAM, November 1948, p477 381
HMIs’ report, p20
99
Curriculum
‘The School sets out to develop latent tastes and to implant worthwhile tastes where none apparently
exists. There can be no doubt that the School provides every opportunity for the all-round growth and
development of the boys entrusted to its care.’ HMIs’ report, 1950, p20
The school day
Monday you had a full day. Tuesday and Thursday were half-days and other half-day was Friday. The
Corps took place on Friday afternoon after one afternoon period. Saturday morning was a normal
school day, it was in the afternoon that there was sport, but this was mainly school sport. Detention
took place on Saturday afternoon and was for one or two hours, depending on how many detentions
one had earned.382
In addition, Derek Smith (R 1947-53) clarified, Tuesday and Thursday afternoons were spent playing
sport. In this decade, the boys were divided into an ‘Arts Side’ and a ‘Science Side’. Roy Barnes (Bn
1942-49) explained the system:
The A (Arts) stream studied no science after the Fourth Form, but mathematics was kept since it was
a compulsory subject for School Certificate. The Science side of the school dropped most of the Arts
subjects except those necessary for the School Certificate, English and one foreign language.383
John Holt (S 1945-51) remembered being relieved at being able to drop physics and chemistry: ‘I did
not really like these subjects and was not much good at them, so I was pleased when, at the start of
the next school year, I was placed in the Arts stream, as opposed to the Science stream and I was
able to drop these two subjects.384
Let us hope that the dividing of the boys into each side wasn’t
quite as arbitrary as Mr Barnes’s experience of being selected to study either German or Greek:
Our Form Master, MJ Gallymore (no-one ever knew what those initials stood for)…. placed himself in
front of the class between the front desks of the two middle lines…. And from there he pointed his
arm straight along the gap, 'All on my right do German, all on my left do Greek', and that was that.385
The boys
All the boys at Alleyn's were exceedingly quick on the uptake…. I had map-reading in the Corps to do
with the 16 year olds for Certificate A, and they had mastered the whole technique of map and
compass in a couple of hours. After I went to OCTU386
in 1939 it took 12 hours with Officer Cadets to
cover the same ground, and when in 1941 I was doing the same with N.C.O. Cadres in the Essex
Regiment of Conscripts, it took them 28 hours! So I was blessed with clever pupils.387
Derek Smith remembered that in his ‘first year in the Junior School at Alleyn’s consisted of four
classes – 3A, B, C, D, each with about 30 pupils (my previous school had 35 or more). The boys were
put in classes of up to 30’. The inspectors of 1950 logged that
382
John Cleary (B 1945-51) 383
Barnes, pp98-99 384
King, p76 385
Barnes, p100 386
Officer Cadet Training Unit 387
Young, pp92-93
100
No boys are now admitted below the age of 11 and 247 boys aged 11-13+ grouped in eight classes
now constitute the Lower School and are in [the] charge of their own Head Master. The course
followed by these boys covers the first two years of what is normally regarded as the Grammar School
Course.388
Complying with changes imposed by the Ministry of Education, by the end of the decade, there had
been ‘an educational revolution. The old order of Third, Shell, Fourth, Remove and Fifth Forms has
been superseded by First, Second, Third, Fourth and Fifth Forms. Two new Remove Forms have been
introduced for those boys who need an extra year before entering the Fifth Form: Tempora
mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis’? 389
Robert Young showed an insight into the mind-set of schoolboys’ writing, ‘I really enjoyed the vitality
and enthusiasm of the boys… We indulged in what later years have in their wisdom, or lack of it,
described as “elitism”. Children naturally want to do better at everything than their
contemporaries.’390
However, the inspectors found that a ‘few of the Masters, either because of
inexperience or because of present incapacity to adjudge correctly the pace at which a Grammar
School boy may reasonably be expected to work, are not stretching the boys sufficiently.’391
As we have seen, both during the war and after it, the staff were hampered by what they could
achieve by shortages of equipment. Young baldly complained that ‘…there weren't enough copies of
the text books…’.392
It was a common complaint.
With too many pupils, too few books, too little equipment – some classes even had to share pencils –
teachers did heroic work, but, for the first time since education had become compulsory in 1870,
education standards dropped. By 1943 the LCC inspectors were finding that twice as many children
aged 13 to 14 could not manage a simple reading book as 20 years before, that the number of mis-
spellings in a simple composition had doubled, that performance in arithmetic, history and geography
was ‘appreciably lower’, and the children’s ability to express themselves in writing was ‘extremely
low’. Education, it was often said, was the first casualty of the war, and despite the 1944 Education
Act, the basis of post-war educational reform, an unfortunate minority bear the scars of wartime
conditions to this day.393
Nevertheless, the inspectors conceded that in Alleyn’s case, there was cause for hope:
The School appears wholly excellent in the social side of the education that it offers. On the
intellectual side, although in general a satisfactory standard is reached by the Fifth, Sixth and Seventh
years, the quality of many of the boys at present in the School suggests that, with surer foundations
laid in the first two years of the course and with a greater variety of courses designed to meet the
various capacities and abilities of the boys, the work might be touched with distinction.394
Mr Barnes’s experience does not quite tally with what the inspectors saw. He wrote that
388
HMIs’ report, 1950, p2 389
EAM, November 1949, p588; ‘Times change, and we change with them.’ 390
Young, p198 391
HMIs’ report, 1950, p4 392
Young, p210 393
Longmate, p192 394
HMIs’ report, 1950, p21
101
The pressure was on all of us to pass examinations, eventually win scholarships to the old universities
and bring honour to the school. Competition and achievement were the driving force and success at
exams was the route we had to take.395
Young echoed Mr Barnes’s observations of competitiveness, declaring:
There was none of the modern doctrine [at Alleyn's] that the over-achievement of some was bad for
the under-achievement of others. We make no apology for this. In a grammar school the top 15% of
the child population must be fully engaged. Attempts to abandon marks and orders may have some
importance in schools for the handicapped, but in a grammar school such ideas were most approved
of by naturally idle masters, and enthusiastically echoed by naturally idle boys. We heard little of it in
the immediate post-war years.396
Education in war
I do remember someone saying, before the war had ended and before the atomic bombs had
dropped on Japan, have you heard about how Hitler’s got one of these terrible bombs and the whole
of England is going to be blown up? It worried me stiff. There were several of my friends who
discussed this, I do remember it at the time, very worrying, I didn’t know what it was. It wasn’t called
an atomic bomb but it went through the school that Hitler had got this thing. And you know, I think
education then was secondary, you just wanted to get through your lives really and sport and running
and music and everything was a diversion away from getting down to things. That’s why, probably
many of us, not all, but many of us didn’t do particularly well at school – because we just had to get
through it.397
The examining boards were aware of the disruption to children’s education. In 1940, the Oxford and
Cambridge Schools Examination Board instructed that
to make allowance as far as possible for wartime difficulties, the Awarders of certificates will be
instructed to maintain approximately the normal percentages of passes… The Awarders will also have
before them examination results of each School in previous years and… the Board will be glad to
receive from Schools, before the examination begins, reports of their special difficulties and of the
conditions under which they have been working… Schools may also submit the opinions of the staff as
to the subjects in which a candidate would have been expected to pass, or pass with credit, had the
conditions been normal.398
Our AOBs recounted some truly frightening exam experiences. Bill Jones (R 1935-42) in an email told
us about Sir John Maitland’s [Dom’s] method of invigilating an exam: if it weren’t so awful it would
be pure comedy:
My main memory of Dom was of his invigilation of the 1940 General School Certificate Latin exam, in
the old Maidstone Girls Grammar school which Alleyn’s had taken over. His speech was quite clipped.
'The exam will last three hours'; 'There will be no extension of this time'; 'If the air raid siren sounds
you will carry on work'; ‘If danger is close I will say "DOWN" and you will get under your desks'; 'When
danger is passed I will say "UP" and you will get on with the exam'.
395
Barnes, p99 396
Young, p198 397
John Williams (R 1943-49) 398
Longmate, p195
102
After about half an hour the alert sounded, shortly there was sound of machine gun fire from high up
followed by a screaming power dive and "DOWN" and we all went below desks. The dive ended in a
huge crash and amazing silence.
‘Stop talking that boy at the back – UP’. We all emerged from under our desks, including Sir John and
resumed our exam. It was the only exam that I ever failed; I am not sure the air raid was to blame.
Gerald Moss (S 1938-47) who was at SLESS, remembered
sitting a Matriculation examination during an air-raid. We were expected to work through the din of
an anti-aircraft barrage and only when the whistle of one of the lookout boys was heard did the
master say, ‘All right boys, under your desks!’ Then, as soon as the bomb had exploded not too close
by, we had to resume working on the examination. It is a wonder that any of us passed.399
Peter Reeve (C 1941-48) told us that in 1945 all the boys ‘in the Upper Sixth science’ who took
Higher School Certificate failed. As Mr Reeve mused, ‘now, that takes some doing.’ By way of an
explanation, Mr Reeve proffered that the boys may have thought ‘why should I worry too much, I’m
going to be called up anyway?’. Certainly this rang true for Mr Howlett who ‘couldn’t wait to leave
here and go and play soldiers and do National Service.’
Perhaps these boys were in Brian Savory’s (Bn 1938-45) form up at Rossall? He recalled that
Our final term (summer 1945) was spent half at Rossall and half at Townley Road. All of us were
prefects and were deeply involved in the re-settlement in London, so much so that all but one in UVIS
failed Higher School Certificate. Thus came about the oft quoted remark of Mr PW Norris, our senior
mathematics teacher: ‘Oh dear, oh dear. I’ve taught you all I know and still you know nothing.’
Whilst there is no detail given of what the exam results were for 1945 – Allison at Speech Day simply
recorded that the ‘examination results had on the whole been satisfactory’. 400
A year later, the
magazine recorded that ‘13 boys passed the Oxford and Cambridge Higher School, and 13 the
London Higher School; 51 passed the London General School…. In the two Higher School Exams
there were 11 Distinctions.’401
For those not familiar with the exam system that existed in the 1940s,
Peter Rodway (C 1942-50) explained that, for General School Certificate,
you had fewer subjects than today. Someone had, say, seven subjects… and if you got five credits you
passed matriculation as well. And of course, if you were really academic, and wanted to go on to
university after Higher School Cert., it was Oxford or Cambridge, and if you didn’t go to Oxford or
Cambridge you didn’t go to university.
Both the General and Higher School Certificates were abolished in 1951 following the introduction of
O’levels and A’levels.
Alan Thomas (SLESS 1940-41) recounted that in ‘three years, I’d been to seven different schools and
taken correspondence courses. The social class, curricula, clothing, and the quality of teaching varied
enormously – a series of culture shocks. I failed every subject in Matric!’ Happily for Mr Thomas,
‘more postal courses ensured success.’
399
Chandler, SLESS, p21 400
EAM, November 1945, p204 401
Ibid, November 1946, p272
103
Library
The library at Alleyn’s was a place ‘where we could sit and read in breaks and after school, consult
reference books, do homework, write or do whatever intellectual thing suited us, so long as we
didn't make a noise.’402
After the war, Young noted that ‘Alleyn's had about a couple of 100 [books] –
the rest of the pre-war stock had either been lost during the evacuation and the rail journeys
between Maidstone, London and Rossall, or they had simply been pinched.’403
The inspectors agreed
(for once) with Young:
…the library ranks are thin and the School would profit very considerably if a special grant could be
made to the Library at this juncture. In almost every subject authoritative reference books are lacking
and the number of reference books suitable and likely to attract boys in the First, Second, Third and
Fourth years in the School is very small.404
Indeed, the inspectors credit Young with lending the boys history books: ‘The School owes much to
the generosity of the senior History Master who has placed his private collection of books freely at
the disposal of both Senior and Junior boys.’405
The curriculum in the post-war years
Indeed education is in the air, but what sort of education?406
The war was won, the Education Act of 1944 was in place and a bright new world order was
expected. It didn’t arrive. As we have seen, Britain descended into years of austerity, years which, at
times, tested the mettle of the British public more than the bombs of the Luftwaffe had.
After the reunion of the Rossall boys and SLESS boys at Townley Road, it took time for educational
standards to settle back to normality. At Speech Day, Hudson apologised for ‘the fewness of the
Higher School Certificates and University Scholarships,’ explaining that this, ‘was due in a great
measure to the fact that the numbers of boys at the top of the school were very small; this would
right itself in time.’407
The inspectors put it more bluntly:
The number of boys over the age of 16 years at the time of the Inspection was 147, of whom 82 were
in the Sixth Forms. This comparatively low figure is due to several causes, perhaps the most important
of which is the fact that all boys who were members of the Emergency School and who wished to
enter Alleyn's School were admitted without any entrance test five years ago.408
However, the inspectors duly reported that – in Modern Languages at least – there had been ‘some
encouraging success in examinations for Higher School Certificates and University Scholarships have
been achieved recently.’409
402
Barnes, p99 403
Young, p213 404
HMIs’ report, 1950, p3 405
Ibid, 1950, p8 406
Smith, p24 407
EAM, November 1946, p281 408
HMIs’ report, 1950, p2 409
Ibid, 1950, p10
104
Some of the masters did not like the educational reforms being made. Smith lamented, ‘There is no
doubt whatever that education for “getting on” is what most people are engaged in.’410
He deplored
the ‘growth of the examination bogey’ blaming it for restricting the timetable into 'snippets of this
and that, some essential and others unessential….'411
Looking ahead to the new O’levels, Young
complained
The Labour Party of Attlee had changed 'matric' into a new school certificate, and had insisted that no
pupil should take the exam until the age of 16. Because most of our hand-picked pupils could happily
pass the exam three years earlier, and then go on to more interesting work in the sixth form, it
became a great nuisance to have to keep 'O' level subjects on the boil for two or three years. It bored
the boys and cramped the teaching.412
One of the visiting dignatories to the School, the Bishop of Bath and Wells, at Speech Day in 1948
reiterated this view:
‘For education,' he explained, 'does not mean simply cramming as many possible facts into the one
particular mind in the hope that these facts can be produced in an examination paper in order to
acquire a particular certificate. That is not education.... Human nature is not only a brain. Human
nature has a soul, mind and body, and the process of education is the process of the whole man in a
balanced degree, so that the mind never takes possession of body and soul, nor body of mind and
soul.'413
There were some gems in the Common Room – Smith and Young undoubtedly being two of them –
who managed to break away from the tedium of the prescribed exam treadmill. In 1948, there is a
sweet report of Form IIIA’s efforts at making historical models: ‘In the last week of term they held an
exhibition of models of weapons of the Middle Ages… Some of the models were most beautifully
made and, what is more – they worked!’414
There is a report of a donation of ‘a Cromwellian helmet.
Such aids to the history lessons are always most acceptable’.415
I suspect Young and his charges
would have had a field-day dividing themselves into Roundheads and Cavaliers. Smith’s timetable
was ruled by the fact that ‘children are exceedingly curious and will be sure to ask for an explanation
of time and key as soon as they feel the need for it, and that is the proper time to give it.’416
Towards the end of this decade, Hudson declared his post-war educational philosophy:
There never was a period in history when a sense of proportion, a sense of values, a sense of poise
and balance were more necessary. This we endeavour to achieve at Alleyn's. We try to maintain a
balance between Science and Humanities, between work in the form-room and activities out of it,
between home and school: the whole knit together by corporate worship in Chapel and at Morning
Assembly, and by a true sense of community.417
410
Smith, p24 411
Ibid, p15 412
Young, p208 413
EAM, November 1948, p477 414
Ibid, February 1948, p510 415
Ibid, February 1947, p313 416
Smith, pp46-47 417
EAM, November 1948, p476-77
105
Drama
Michael Hajiantonis: Did many people turn out to watch the school plays?
Mr Reeve: They had to – it was compulsory.
Mr Stewart: Well, we did at Rossall, yes. What else did you do? Saturday nights by and large wasn’t it?
There used to be Saturday night productions. It was a major part of the school.
At Rossall, the Revd Canon Michael Swindlehurst (R, 1941-48) explained that
there was plenty of scope for drama, and we were conscious that our Founder had been an actor.
The Headmaster Mr Ralph Allison and his wife were both accomplished actors and produced Shaw’s
Arms and the Man and Barrie’s The Admirable Crichton as offerings from the combined Staff Rooms of
the two schools.418
SLESS too had its dramatics; in an overview of the drama productions at SLESS, ‘the all-important
work of dressing the shows in costumes, make-up, etc, was impressively done by Miss T Ratzer, our
Art Mistress, ably helped by Mrs DR Williams.’419
History master Robert Young in his book, Before I
Forget, described how the members of staff involved in drama came from all sections of the
Common Room – and beyond:
The succession of chief producers of the school play had music, classics, modern languages, history,
and English teachers among them, and there was a great team of electricians, artists, and make-up
experts from the science side and among the masters' wives. The one thing we lacked was a proper
stage, as the platform in the school hall had only two exits....420
(The challenge of the stage’s limitations wasn’t to be resolved until 2008 when the Michael Croft
Theatre was built. Michael Croft’s later theatrical success at Alleyn’s was built on firm foundations,
continuing the dramatic tradition built up by Allison at Rossall with ‘a core or cadre of theatrical
enthusiasts – WJ Smith, AS Jenkins, J Logan and RHD Young – who had contributed to many excellent
productions in the post-war, pre-Croft years.421
)
Allison was ‘an English specialist with a flair for drama’422
who took part in some of the school’s
dramatic productions. Both Ralph and Rita Allison took part in the 1941 production of The Mikado
the stage was graced by Mrs Allison as Yum Yum, the Headmaster as a sonorous and obese Pooh-Bah,
and Mr Smith gave an almost professional representation of the Mikado.423
I wonder how Puff Smith reacted to ‘almost professional representation’….?
At Rossall the Headmaster also revealed his flair as producer, with Twelfth Night, ‘performed on a
lovely summer evening in The Hall Garden on Founder’s Day 1942. The following year Alleyn’s
brought A Midsummer Night’s Dream to the garden at Dulwich Picture Gallery – “a setting that
Shakespeare might almost have had in mind when he wrote the play”. On Alleyn’s last Founder’s Day
418
Drama & Music, p55 419
EAM, March 1945, p150 420
Young, p221 421
DLM, p37 422
Ibid, p12 423
EAM, June 1941, p453
106
at Rossall, 17 June 1944, to commemorate the 325th anniversary of the Foundation, there was a
performance of The Merchant of Venice, jointly produced by the Headmaster and Edward
Upward’424
. The accompanying original music by Jack Lanchbery is reported to have enhanced
Shakespeare’s verse and ‘aroused the imagination of the audience to create for themselves the
illusions of night, without the effects of modern stage lighting.’425
The repertoire of the plays performed at Rossall is impressive: A Midsummer Night’s Dream, The
Merchant of Venice, Twelfth Night, JM Barrie’s The Admirable Crichton and Elmer Rice’s Judgement
Day. This last play would have been, I would have thought, quite a controversial choice. Judgement
Day, written in 1934, was about the Reichstag fire trial (of 1933) and the magazine reviewer
conceded that ‘heads… had shaken so sceptically at the choice for the annual “50” Club play’ but
admitted that they ‘nodded sagely during its performance.’426
The year before, the reviewer of Thunder Rock acknowledged the grip of war in which the readers
found themselves:
In conclusion, the play proved two things: first, that there is no lack of acting ability in the school…
and second that there is no limit to what can be achieved when one’s whole mind is given to a task,
whatever obstacles might appear to impede its progress. The moral of the play, which may be
summed up as ‘face up to your difficulties’, applies equally to school dramatic associations, as to the
wider realm of international affairs.427
The SLESS boys were keen to point out that they too, like their evacuee-compatriots, could perform.
In March 1941 the magazine recorded a performance of The Importance of Being Earnest by the
members of the VIth form,
who suddenly felt the urge to ‘tread the boards’ and in three weeks learned and produced this far
from easy comedy… NV Lymbery, who played Cecily, will be able to tell the fellows at Rossall what
Carcas, Buysman, Beck, Nash, Cooper, Nolan and Child did with their different parts.428
The first major post-war production at Alleyn’s was George Bernard Shaw’s Saint Joan and it
received an enthusiastic review in the magazine. The music was again composed by Jack Lanchbery,
and a young Alan Mackesy (D 1943-50), at only 14, ‘played the difficult part of St Joan with
considerable confidence. The part took hold of him as the play progressed… in the trial scene his
fervent simplicity brought to an amazing intensity his belief in his mystical mission. So great was the
effect that hardened playgoers could get an appreciable sense of surprise when the curtain calls
transformed the maid into an embarrassed youth. We had been lifted out of a School Hall and out of
our period and we had been keyed to the atmosphere of divine mysticism by a skill that a
professional would envy’.429
Peter Rodway (C 1942-50) certainly enjoyed the music and drama at Alleyn’s but ‘didn’t take part in
a school play until almost my last year. I was in a couple of Gilbert and Sullivans and The Tempest, I
424
D&M, p48 425
EAM, November 1944, p135 426
Ibid, May 1943, p45 427
Ibid, May 1942, p549 428
Ibid, March 1941, p412; coincidentally, Allison chose this same play as the School’s parting gift to its hosts in
Kent, where you may recall he performed a specially written prologue (see p67). 429
D&M, pp40-42
107
was also in the orchestra in the percussion section, sometimes the only item I had to play was in the
national anthem. My symbol clash at the end was always pretty fortissimo!’
Young wrote that ‘School Drama was not in the hands of the English Department…. In fact, the Head
of Drama in 1946 was the Director of Music, and, so far as Opera was concerned, it continued so for
20 years.’430
Let us move to the concert hall, to see where drama and music played in harmony
under WJ Smith, the Director of Music, and to witness, in his words, his method of catching the ‘first
fine careless rapture’431
of the budding performer.
430
Young, p221 431
Smith, p66
108
Musical wonderland
‘Absolutely the greatest part of Alleyn’s life. At least three orchestras and great choral singing. Very
best thing about Rossall too.’ Sandy Alexander (B 1938-47)
The music at Alleyn’s was vividly remembered by all our AOBs. The breadth and quality of the music
performed for much of this decade was driven by WJ Smith, the Director of Music. He was called
'Puff' by the boys: 'a good nickname,’ explained Roy Barnes (Bn 1942-49), ‘since he was a plump man
of average height with lovely St Bernard dog jowls that waggled as he moved and he gave the
appearance of being puffed up.’432
Mr Barnes continued his description of Smith:
He was a Somerset Maugham kind of character. He would spend most of his holidays on the French or
Italian Riviera either acting as a house-sitter for millionaire owners of luxurious villas along the
fashionable Mediterranean coasts or giving private concerts in the houses of the continental rich and
powerful.433
During the 1940s, his dedication to the boys and to the School seemed, at times, verging on the
reckless: to ensure that the chapel in Dulwich had a choir, ‘a skeleton choir came each Sunday from
Kent by car throughout the dreadful summer of 1940, while the Battle of Britain raged overhead.’434
When the boys were evacuated to Rossall, music played an important role in their lives.
Music there was one of the chief barriers against boredom, and a very heavy responsibility fell on his
[Smith’s] shoulders.435
The Revd Canon Michael Swindlehurst (R, 1941-48) described Smith’s magic:
When I first joined the school at Rossall, WJ Smith (‘WJ’ or ‘Puff’) had an ambitious musical
programme organised. … for a new boy like me it opened up a musical wonderland.436
WJ ‘Puff’ Smith
'How do you do it?' To which I reply quite shortly, 'I don't, the boys do it.' Much of what follows
amounts to an appeal to others to let them do so.’437
Smith wrote about his experiences teaching music at Alleyn’s in Music in Education in which he
described his experience as an experiment to herald a revolution in music-teaching.
With music as a bringer of joy I have hoped to show that a reform in actual teaching method is long
overdue in most schools. The didactic habits of the teacher and the inactive acquiescence of the
taught I have tried to exchange for an elimination as far as possible of the teacher, and a set of pupils
inspired with a crusading spirit who welcome him as their guide, philosopher, and friend for the
432
Barnes, p156 433
Ibid, p156 434
Smith, p20 435
EAM, November 1948, p475 436
Drama & Music, p54 437
Smith, p14
109
present.... With this I have tried to combine a communistic idea in my discipline based on the
comradeship born of mutual work in carrying forward a great project.438
The nub of Smith’s reform was to make the music pupil-centred and he encouraged the growth of
the ‘spirit of the atelier,’ whereby ‘all the coaching of young players was done by the senior boys.’439
The teaching technique so developed is one where the teacher eliminates himself in every possible
way…. He is constantly consulted, and coaches principal roles in the production of large works. His
advice is not necessarily followed, since there is complete honesty with one another, and the boys do
the following jobs: produce opera; rehearse the chorus; accompany at rehearsals; choose and
rehearse orchestral concerts; accompany all religious services with the organ; teach the beginners the
rudiments of all instruments available; organise and post the rehearsal times; provide the notes for
the magazine; design and execute scenery; design and execute programme covers; provide
photographs for the press; orchestrate works when necessary and duplicate band-parts.440
And, even if the boys were restricted by a lack of musical ability, they were still given a part to play:
Ted Robinson (Tn 1938-41) remembered an indignity inflicted on him by Smith:
…I cannot sing and was dismayed immensely when WJ Smith pulled me from the chorus of Stabat
Mater and relegated me to pumping the organ.
Mr Barnes remembered that Smith tried his hardest to get him to play an instrument:
I simply believed I couldn't [play an instrument] so that when Puff one day, out of the blue… stopped
me as I was walking across the quad and asked me if I would like to learn the French horn, as he had a
vacancy for a horn player in the orchestra, I was dumbstruck, gob-smacked, taken aback; me! Play
the horn in the school orchestra? I couldn't believe it. Why had he asked me? I couldn't possibly
afford to buy a French horn. The school would supply me with one. I couldn't read music. No matter, I
could learn.... I made every excuse I could think of – and at last he took no for an answer.441
At Rossall, half the boys learned a musical instrument; Smith declared that
No-one is taught unless he craves for it. There are 'waiting lists' for all instruments. There is no
dodging, and the daily cry is for more time. Must we stop?
Plaintively adding, ‘Cannot such co-operation, such friendship, such joy, be carried over into the
class-room somehow?’ Frank Halford (R 1942-49) recalled how
The whole school sang. Puff Smith didn’t believe in people not being able to sing. There was no such
thing as groaners. We all sang, we all learnt. I mean, I can remember going up in ’42 and at the end of
the first term singing the Messiah. And by that time we’d learnt to read music. It was very good.
Excellent grounding for music. There was a lot of music – Requiem, Morning Heroes, it was all very
enjoyable.
438
Smith, pp113-14 439
Ibid, p19 440
Ibid, pp21-22 441
Barnes, p157
110
The magazine gives us a peek into the sounds and sights of the Junior School boys at their leisure: in
a report probably written by Albert Spring (who is one of the three people to whom Smith dedicated
his book Music in Education 442
)
It is always possible to gather what choral music is being rehearsed by listening to the ‘snatches’
heard in the playroom, the boot-room or elsewhere in the House… To gain acquaintance with these
musical masterpieces while one is young must form a sound foundation for the fuller education which
is to follow.443
The repertoire
Mr Halford added later that, in addition to the Messiah they performed ‘Rossini’s Stabat Mater,
Morning Heroes and Pastoral by Bliss, Handel’s Alexander’s Feast, Gounod’s Faust, Verdi’s Requiem,
Elgar’s Spirit of England, Holst’s Hymn of Jesus.’ Roy Dann (D 1937-42) commented that ‘what was
remarkable was that the whole School sang in parts – treble, alto, tenor and bass’. Sandy Alexander
(B 1938-47) said that during his time at Alleyn’s, ‘I went through the whole lot, from treble, alto,
tenor and bass.’ In Robert Young’s valete for Smith, he wrote:
WJ Smith’s choirs, both at Rossall and at Alleyn’s, sang with a fervour and accuracy we have not
witnessed since… not simply did all the boys of Alleyn’s sing in four-part harmony in assembly, but
many of the tunes for the hymns and the psalms in the books were composed by his pupils….’444
Michael Gilbert (T 1944-50) recalled that at Rossall, ‘Every Sunday after chapel there was a choir
practice taken by WJ Smith for the entire School, which lasted until lunchtime.’445
As Mr Halford
noted, the repertoire taken on by the boys under Smith’s direction was vast. Smith decreed that ‘No
longer was the notion allowed that a great work of art was necessarily too difficult….’446
At Rossall,
Full use was made of Rossall’s handsome Chapel to sing works by Tallis, Palestrina, Purcell, Dyson and
Handel, but Smith also introduced his young musicians to modern composers, such as Hugo Anson
(WJ’s predecessor as Director of Music), Delius, Vaughan Williams, Arthur Bliss and Armstrong Gibbs.
Sir Arthur Bliss, then BBC Director of Music, attended a performance of his Morning Heroes, written
as a tribute to his brother who was killed in the First World War.447
Mr Barnes commented that ‘the musicians of Alleyn's learnt much English, French and Italian music,
some of it by modern composers that was far more avant garde and exciting than could be heard
elsewhere in London.’448
David Green (D, 1943-48) admitted that ‘To this day, I only have to hear a
brief excerpt from either The Gondoliers or Orpheus and Eurydice and I am immediately transported
back to the Great Hall at Alleyn’s all those years ago.’449
There were limits to the school’s repertoire: Smith would not countenance anything German. Mr
Barnes relayed how Smith,
442
The other two are Headmasters Henderson and Allison. 443
EAM, October 1942, p571 444
D&M, p49 445
Ibid, p54 446
Smith, p19 447
D&M, p51 448
Barnes, p156 449
D&M, p61
111
was fluent in French and Italian and although he understood German, he would never speak it or sing
anything written in it. He would never conduct the Alleyn's choir or orchestra in any work by a
German composer, although he stretched a point for Mozart, being an Austrian. He must have been
deeply scarred by the First World War, but he never spoke of it. He saw in the work of Wagner and
Beethoven something of the frightening daemon of the German Geist, even in Brahms, the most
gentle of men, I would have said.450
Unusually, given the war, the boys were not made to sing patriotic songs. Brian Savory (Bn, 1938-45)
wrote that ‘instead of the usual motley selection of patriotic songs and recitations at the annual
concert, he produced and directed Gluck’s Orpheus and Eurydice – to the total astonishment and
consternation of the organisers! But the silver collection taken was double that of any previous year
and, as ever, Puff’s judgement was spot-on.’451
That said, the Memorial Service held in Rossall
Chapel on 6 August 1944 to remember AOBs who had been killed was one of the few occasions of
patriotic music being played.452
Nor would Smith suffer the boys performing, ‘bawling community songs and unison hymns.’ And
with his practical eye for musical detail, wrote that boys in the lower parts of the school must not
sing ‘folk-songs or national songs… because they are all set in baritone keys.'453
Audiences
As we have seen, WJ Smith’s music philosophy was to hand the baton – in more ways than one – to
the senior boys. One task delegated to the boys which surprised me in the setting of a school was
overseeing ‘the accommodation of the Press' at a performance.454
The Fleetwood Chronicle came to
review the Gondoliers in 1941 writing that G Bishop, who as Casilda ‘had all sorts of pretty tricks up
his capacious sleeve, tossing his powdered curls, like a debutante, and, to complete the picture,
having a charming soprano voice’.455
In addition, Mr Barnes remembered that ‘the serious national press music and drama critics
attended all our major performances and reviewed them,’456
which seems quite a coup for a school
to score. The BBC twice broadcast their performances:
Such was Alleyn’s reputation for music-making that pupils were twice invited to take part in BBC
broadcasts. On 8 February 1944, Peter Lyons was engaged to sing, and the following month, pupils
performed and conducted a concert for Children’s Hour…. The programme also included
Mendelssohn’s ‘Nocturne’ from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, two bourrées for harpsichord by
Purcell, and the ‘March’ from Things to Come by Arthur Bliss. ‘Little did I ever think’, wrote the
reviewer for the Edward Alleyn Magazine, ‘that I should hear an Alleyn’s School concert while sitting
in a small sitting-room in a little industrial town in Monmouthshire’.457
450
Barnes, p156 451
D&M, p53 452
Music included: Elgar’s march ‘Pomp and Circumstance’, Psalm 23, Byrd’s anthem, The Souls of the
Righteous, the Nunc Dimittis, and a SS Wesley hymn, ‘On the Resurrection Morning’. 453
Smith, p22 454
Ibid, p54 455
EAM, October 1941, p479 456
Barnes, p156 457
D&M, p50
112
This was an enormous achievement and the boys were rightly proud; after the second broadcast the
magazine writers reported: ‘It is a pity that the boys of the School who were broadcasting on March
24th
could not hear the encouraging cheers we gave them, as we sat on the floor in our
Housemaster’s room. We were very proud of them all – perhaps we shall be chosen to represent the
School in a broadcast one of these days.’458
Perhaps this public relations exercise formed part of the country’s overall campaign to keep up
morale during the war? Locally, the boys entertained the residents of Maidstone and Fleetwood and
raised money for charity and the war-effort. The magazine reported that ‘for many weeks the local
inhabitants [of Maidstone] willingly paid their shillings to the Red Cross for the pleasure of waltzing
around to the melodies of our haunting saxophone or of our trumpet with its sensational “wow-
wow” mute.’459
A performance of Gluck’s Orpheus at the Congregational Church at Cleveleys raised
over £20 for the Blackpool Victoria Hospital.460
Mr Savory recalled Peter Lyons singing the part of
Euridice:
Peter’s tender and expressive interpretation of this difficult role was so moving that many of the
audience were seen to be weeping.
By special arrangement with the British Council, the boys also entertained Polish airmen stationed
nearby with a Polish and English themed concert:
Polish music, costumes and songs were hired, and the airmen were able to see fine performances
both of English and of Polish traditional dances…. We are proud to record this concert as an artistic
contribution to the war-effort and as a tribute to the gallant people of Poland.’461
As well as raising the morale of the School, the local residents and serving airmen, WJ Smith may
have had an ulterior motive. In a stark statement in his book, Smith wrote ‘Never take the audience
into account. You must educate them, not have them try to educate you.’462
Smith was as equally missionary in his zeal to educate the boys in terms of musical taste:
If good music is not consistently put before schoolboys they will yield to the immediate crude appeal
of the bad. Left without musical guidance, their critical faculties will be bounded by the jazz-bands,
the crooner, and the cinema organ…. Instead of an orchestra, senior boys, if left to themselves tend
to form a 'jazz-combination', their heroes being the various dance-band leaders, drummers, and
'rhythm pianists'.463
You can almost hear him spitting out the phrase ‘rhythm pianists’. The boys were not to be so bound
and in 1943 they listened to a lecture on ‘The relative merits of jazz and the classics’
given by Mr B___e. The lecturer confined himself almost exclusively to jazz music and the many forms
thereof, and set his audience rhythmically tapping and rocking by playing gramophone records of
somewhat vivid examples of modern jazz. Never before has the Summer Library echoed to such a
cacophony of ‘hot riffs’, ‘bends’ and ‘glissandes’. The meeting broke up finally, having had more of a
458
EAM, May 1944, p100 459
Ibid, March 1941, p418 460
Ibid, October 1942, p581 461
Ibid, March 1942, p541 462
Smith, p52 463
Ibid, p90
113
lowbrow entertainment, we fear, that having approached nearer to the ultimate issue of the age-old
‘jazz versus classics’ feud.464
Dance
Smith prescribed the following syllabus for teaching music:
The syllabus followed should be of the widest, and should include ballet, eurhythmics [sic], and
participation, as much as possible, in all kinds of ensembles such as chamber music, madrigal singing,
opera and oratorio.465
The inclusion of ballet was, I would have thought, a brave one for a boys’ school. Our AOBs did
indeed remember their dancing attempts. John Cleary (B 1945-51) recalled getting ‘roped into
various operas with Jack [Lanchbery] and it reminds me of being made to dance around like a stupid
fairy,’ and Peter Reeve (C 1941-48) recalled having ‘to do Greek dancing in these flimsy, filmy
things!’
Peter Rodway (C 42-50) told John Pretlove’s (C 1944-51) ‘story about bringing his wife on an early
date to a production at Alleyn’s of Iolanthe … and it came to the early stages of the first act, and
these clumping Fourth Form boys lumbered onto the stage and launched into [sings] ‘we are da-inty
li-ttle fa-ir-ies’. Mr Rodway, in Drama and Music, himself remembered the ballet of Orpheus
The director had conceived the idea of the blessed spirits daintily and elegantly passing tennis balls to
each other. Regrettably, the dancers turned out to be some of the worst fielders in the School, and I
recall to this day tennis balls frequently disappearing into the wings past desperately outstretched
hands! 466
Mr Barnes mentioned that prior to Alleyn’s ‘WJ’ 'had had a distinguished career as an opera singer,
and continued giving private performances well into his old age.’ Young recognised his colleague’s
acting skills:
WJ Smith was a considerable actor, as many schoolmasters and musicians need to be to succeed at
teaching anything. You could tell it when he conducted an orchestra, listening to the music of the
score rather than the notes which were actually emanating from the less skilful members of the
orchestra.467
According to Young, the policy of Smith was ‘to attempt as much as possible, and not to be too
particular about the end-result.’468
This was conceded by the Revd Canon Michael Swindlehurst (R,
1941-48) who said:
Puff…. believed in asking great things of boys, and that could be and was very inspiring, but he could
be very temperamental and quite outrageous.469
Roy Croft (R, 1945-51) drew a beautifully comic image of Smith:
464
EAM, May 1943, p44 465
Smith, p98 466
D&M, p58 467
Young p222 468
Ibid, p221 469
D&M, p55
114
He was inspirational and generally kind, but at times during rehearsals, and with 6” of white
underpant showing around his midriff, he would lose his cool, and woe betide the unfortunate horn
player or soloist who produced a wrong note.470
Visits and visitors
Thanks to Smith’s contacts, the boys were treated to visits by professional musicians and were also
given the opportunity to visit professional performances.
Mr Savory described an amazing opportunity given to some boys to learn at the feet of players of
the Hallé Orchestra; Smith ‘arranged for some competent members of the Orchestra to attend a
rehearsal of the Hallé Orchestra and actually sit alongside their respective instrumentalists. I hear
that Sir John Barbirolli was a very amusing host, and his “Band” made everyone welcome.’ In turn,
Smith was able to take his current pupils to witness his past Alleyn’s stars who had become
professional musicians and there is an account of a visit to watch AOB David Franklin singing the part
of the High Priest in the Magic Flute at Covent Garden. On the journey back to Townley Road
‘everyone was discussing the possibility of the “Magic Flute” being performed at this School, even to
the point of casting!... Everyone was strangely quiet, a spell had been miraculously cast over
them.’471
As this episode demonstrates, music brought excitement and magic to the boys. Music’s ‘great
importance,’ decreed Smith was,
as a bringer of joy. The business of those responsible for the young of a nation during their most
impressionable years is surely that of removing unhappiness and replacing it by joy.472
Writing in 1947, Smith commented on the emergence of a mass society in Britain and its effects on
its young people:
The attitude to life of these children is embittered at the outset, by enormous classes, hideous
surroundings, and the lack of an integrating force in their lives.473
Examinations
Smith saw little benefit of exams in his conception of how music should be taught, although he railed
about the absence of a test in the Common Entrance, Scholarship and Free-Place exams to assess a
boy’s musicality. Smith’s goal was rather loftier than an impressive set of exam results:
In no other way, indeed, can all the school be brought together to engage in a corporate act wherein
everyone, however humble, makes his contribution; not to give a performance or to entertain
anyone, but to the greater Glory of God and as a fulfilment of the composer's purpose when creating
the work.474
470
Ibid, p41 471
EAM, June 1948, p451 472
Smith, p14 473
Ibid, p15 474
Ibid, p47
115
In fact, in Music in Education he listed as one his (three) challenges when he started teaching at
Alleyn’s as to 'do all to no other purpose than the glory of God as part of His creation'.475
But even
here the boys thwarted his lofty goal, turning Sunday evening chapel into a competition; the Rt Hon
the Lord Higgins (D 1940-46) explained that:
One of the few joint events between the two schools was Sunday evening chapel, often a contest on
which could sing louder. Rossall cheated by singing unison!476
In Mr Dann’s perhaps understated words, ‘Rossall wasn’t a musical school at all.’ Professor Donald
Leinster-Mackay (D 1943-50), himself a boy at Rossall, wrote that ‘The reputation of Alleyn’s music
went not unnoticed by the Rossallians. That was one area of school activity where they had much to
learn from Alleyn’s School.’477
Sidney Giles (Bn 1933-42) recalled Alleyn’s
unloading of equipment from the railway lorries at the school; as the timpani were lifted off, the
watching Rossall sergeant major remarked: ‘Ee’s tha’s got a band’.478
In Derek Winterbottom’s history of Rossall School, The Tide Flows On, he said that the Rossall boys,
enjoyed attending the concerts put on by the Alleyn’s boys in Big School, including a full-scale
performance of The Gondoliers, not bad for a school of 200 boys without the leavening of any
masters’ wives or daughters.479
Alleyn’s musical output at Rossall was phenomenal – in addition to the opera, Gilbert and Sullivan,
oratorios and plays they performed, boys would put on a whole-school choral piece each term, as
well as weekly orchestral concerts held on Sunday evenings.
On Speech Day in 1942, the magazine writers reported the Headmaster’s annual review where
Allison gave as ‘an example of the activities that had been extended in scope during the year he
instanced the school music: three boys had won open choral scholarships to King’s College,
Cambridge – surely a record for any school – and one [Lanchbery] had gained a scholarship for
Composition at the Royal Academy of Music.480
Scholarships
We value [scholarships] enormously for the sole reason that for poor people they open the door to
the great universities and so to the finest educative possibilities this country has to offer.481
In his book, Smith listed the scholarships won by Alleyn’s pupils since he began his tenure at Alleyn’s
in 1926: 39.482
In Robert Young’s apt words, ‘Nobody in England was his rival.’
One of the scholars, as we have seen, was Jack Lanchbery.
475
Ibid, p18 476
D&M, p52 477
Ibid, p13 478
Ibid, p53 479
Winterbottom, p105 480
EAM, October 1942, p573 481
Smith, p106 482
Ibid, p32-33
116
Jack Lanchbery OBE
Of all the AOBs who I have discovered on this chase through Alleyn’s in the 1940s, if I could enter a
time-machine, it is the mischievous and talented Jack Lanchbery (R, 1934-42) who I would love to
meet and quiz. In the words of Sidney Giles ( Bn, 1933-42) he was,
an irreverent soul, technically capable of switching seamlessly from an improvisation on a baroque
theme during the concluding voluntary to an air from the current Gilbert and Sullivan show, and
switching smartly back with WJ doubled back to the organ loft to reprimand him.483
WJ and Lanchbery’s partnership is the stuff of legends. When Smith produced Molière’s Le Médecin
Malgré Lui Lanchbery conducted the orchestra.
The play was finished and the orchestra rounded off this enjoyable evening very suitably with a ‘Suite
dans le style ancient’ by JA Lanchbery. This work was written as an exercise for the Higher Certificate
of the Oxford and Cambridge Joint Board, and we hope for more delightful music from this very
capable pen.’484
More ‘delightful music’ did come from both Lanchbery’s pen and baton. The Rt Hon the Lord Higgins
explained:
He went on to become the most distinguished conductor of ballet of the time, and, perhaps, ever…
Music at Alleyn’s benefited immensely from Jack Lanchbery’s generosity in many ways. He donated
generously to the Appeal Fund that helped build the new Music School (opened in 1992) and the
largest rehearsal room is named after him; and he provided the money to buy a new Yamaha grand
piano in the Great Hall.
And as the greatest tribute to his ‘guide, philosopher, and friend’, ‘Puff’ Smith, Lanchbery
set up the WJ Smith Trust Fund in honour of his friend and mentor…. The Trust provides support
towards the musical expenses of talented pupils at Alleyn’s who might otherwise find it difficult to
afford them. On his death in 2003, he bequeathed the royalties on all his musical compositions to the
Trust….’485
Sandy Alexander told us that Lanchbery wrote a (sadly, lost) musical comically ‘called “The Princess
and the Golden Sausage”.’ Michael Gilbert (T 1944-50) gave a hilarious account of Verdi’s Requiem
performed on the boys’ return to Alleyn’s in 1945:
I well remember the performance, which was conducted very powerfully by Jack Lanchbery. When we
reached the ‘Dies irae’, what the audience could not hear was Jack shouting over the orchestra to the
choir, ‘Now sing you bastards, sing!’ And sing we did!486
After Lanchbery left Alleyn’s, he was not forgotten by his fellow AOBs or his school. AOB AS Jenkins
(R 1932-38)487
was commissioned by the Warden of St Anne’s, Soho ‘to write a modern version of
483
D&M, p41 484
EAM, November 1940, p391 485
D&M, p52 486
Ibid, p54
117
the Passion set to music. JA Lanchbery, AOB, accepted the task of composing the score, and the
performance of the work, “Hour of Darkness”, was given by the School Choir and Orchestra at St
Thomas’s, Regent Street, on Good Friday, and repeated there on June 3rd. 488
Gilbert and Sullivan
Gilbert and Sullivan was an Alleyn's speciality. People came from far and wide to hear the Alleyn's
Gilbert and Sullivan every year.489
Mr Rodway and his mother were two of those people who came to watch an Alleyn’s G&S
production:
It was in the summer of 1942, just before I became an Alleyn’s pupil, that my mother took me to see a
performance of Sidney Giles’s production of HMS Pinafore in Townley Road. The cast had travelled in
the best professional tradition from Rossall. I have never forgotten it. The performance was an
exceptionally fine one and the chorus excelled, with no fewer than five encores for ‘Never Mind the
Why and Wherefore’. 490
In Smith’s spirit of ‘not being too particular about the end-result’, the boys of Rossall and Alleyn’s
combined forces to celebrate the centenary of the birth of Arthur Sullivan. The magazine reviewers
wrote that they ‘produced together a two-hour collection of excerpts from the operas – scenes,
solos, trios, quartets…’ adding damningly, ‘it gave the performers at least a very merry evening.’491
Music at SLESS
A taste of what the music scene was like at SLESS is given in this report:
…we were able to produce a highly successful concert somewhat on the lines of the popular House-
Supper shows which used to fill the Hall years ago. AJ Vinter played the piano in expert fashion and
led the choruses with excellent results, GB Harley impressed us all and mystified some of his audience
with his conjuring tricks; Mr Calland surprised us with some Gilbert & Sullivan choruses courageously
undertaken by some fellows in the Fifths; Mr Wright gave us another of his amusing yarns about a
certain salty sailor. Mr Rudd’s choir-boys pleased everybody by the delightful way they sang some of
our well-known ballads and he himself found his audience very appreciative of his songs at the
piano…492
Whilst this gang-show doesn’t quite compare with the ambitious programme the boys at Rossall
attacked, it does demonstrate that music was played and fun was had. Pulling off such concerts was
an enormous achievement given the instability of the roll at SLESS, the bombing-raids, and changes
of staff.
Alan Mackesy (D 1943-50) remembered that ‘in 1945 [the] Alleyn’s Director of Music observed… that
because of “wartime” conditions we had not been taught any music whatsoever at SLESS.’ However,
487
Stephen Jenkins was to return to the School as a member of Alleyn’s staff in 1945 and stayed until his
retirement in 1982. He was Head of Drama from 1964-74, Housemaster of Brown’s from 1968-81, and CO of
the CCF from 1974-82. 488
EAM, June 1946, p246 489
Barnes, p157 490
D&M, p58 491
EAM, October 1942, p563 492
Ibid, March 1944, p79
118
Mr Mackesy recalled the ‘music lessons’ delivered by Mr Rudd and accompanied (or abetted) by
Tyson. By putting on performances, Rudd and Tyson had ‘veritably boosted the morale and solidarity
of the (Emergency) School during London’s dangerous war-torn years.493
By such musical gatherings, SLESS was showing itself in line with Smith’s philosophy, that music was
an antidote to the war-time conditions raging outside on their doorsteps and they, like their Rossall
brothers, used music as a much needed ‘bringer of joy’.
The departure of ‘Puff’ Smith and those Inspectors….
There is a hint that Smith may have been slowing down in the opening sentence of the magazine’s
Music report in October 1947:
For many reasons it was found impossible to give more than three concerts during the term, but all
were well attended and up to our traditional standard. 494
Smith retired from Alleyn’s in 1948 and was replaced as Director of Music by one of his former
protégés, Frank Kennard (S 1924-30). Two years later the inspectors called and it is apparent that
Smith’s influence had not entirely disappeared. The HMIs were pleased with instrumental music:
of which there is a most heartening amount, owing largely to a tradition built up by the late Director
of Music.495
However, they had a dig, noting approvingly that ‘…the somewhat over-ambitious programmes of
the past have been modified.’496
Pleasingly, they liked what they saw in the present incumbent,
Kennard:
he is a fine musician and brings to the School an intense interest in and love of music. His personality
is attractive and kindly; he thoroughly understands boys, and has a good sense of standard, both of
performance and of musical taste.497
It seemed like music was in safe hands. Smith was wily enough to realise that much of his work as a
music teacher would not be reaped until many years later, writing:
In short the immense value of music to a boy in the education of his emotions which is, indeed the
main purpose of music in a school, is not examinable at all and may only be observable in the greater
sensitivity and serenity of his future life.498
Given the torrent of affectionate memories for ‘Puff’ uttered by our AOBs of the 1940s (and the
1930s) – Mr Halford’s comment of him being, ‘an unforgettable teacher and [he] inspired a lasting
love and appreciation of music’ being typical – I think it safe to say, some sixty years on, that Smith
could rest content with his job as music teacher at Alleyn’s well done.
493
Chandler, SLESS, pp20-21 494
EAM, October, 1947, p386 495
HMIs’ report, 1950, p17 496
Ibid, 1950, p17 497
Ibid 498
Smith, pp104-05
119
Sport
‘The School holds a well-deserved reputation for its achievements in games and sports and the
present standard of play of its representative teams is in keeping with its enviable sporting tradition.’
HMIs’ report, 1950, p19
Sport and games was another aspect of school life enjoyed by many of our AOBs. As John Hughes (C
1945-51) said, ‘sport was your outlet; you didn’t have video games and similar distractions’. Ian
Smith (R 1942-49) admitted that ‘most of us… played too much sport.’ He felt that ‘being in the war,
it was important to make the most of sport.’ Peter Rodway (C 1942-50) explained what was on offer,
pointing out that ‘if you weren’t good at it, then you were pretty well left out, if you couldn’t even
get into a House team.’ However, if,
you were good in the House team, eventually you progressed to the 2nd
XI or if you were really good
as John [Williams] did, the 1st
XI. But there were far more House leagues and sports day of course in
the spring term, when there was very little football. That [football] was only in the Christmas term,
wasn’t it? Very little after Christmas because it was only cross-country running, leading to the school
steeplechase, and then you would have athletics heats for sports day. The sports finals day was the
last Saturday afternoon of the Lent term and it was quite a very well supported event because
parents and friends turned up.
For those boys who didn’t get picked ‘you had to do some work on the allotments,’ added Mr
Rodway. All our AOB guests remembered the sports timetable. Sports were held on Tuesday and
Thursday afternoons as well as on Saturday afternoon. Saturday was a ‘normal’ school day with
lessons taking place in the morning. Cricketing genius, Micky Stewart (T 1944-51) remembered the
Saturday sports afternoons, especially the fact that ‘the majority of Saturday cricket matches started
at 11.30am, I believe, so you missed out two periods on a Saturday.’ Roy Barnes (Bn 1942-49), a
member of the football 1st
XI team, remembered that they ‘played against other public schools on a
Saturday afternoon. I used to like playing away, going on a private bus, seeing new places, having
lunches and teas in other schools.’499
John Cleary (B 1945-51) – with help from Alan Jackson (C 1945-51) – recited the seasonal timetable;
it was in ‘winter [there] was football and athletics and cross-country running. Summer was cricket
and athletics.’ Mr Jackson added, ‘And swimming, wasn’t it? In summer.’
Sport and games in this decade were played with varying levels of success. As in the classroom, the
boys’ performance suffered from a shortage of equipment throughout the 1940s. There are frequent
appeals in the magazine for the donations of old Houseshirts, Fives balls and gloves. The school was
inventive in getting around rationed items, and substituted sand for its paper chase at Rossall.500
Peter Wrench (C 1945-49) was taught table tennis by Micky Stewart ‘using Latin Primers – we could
not afford bats in those days!’ And a Fives revival was made possible,
by the unexpected purchase of some new balls and by the generous gift from the AOB Fives Club of a
quantity of partly-used balls. Although every economy in the use of both remains essential, it is no
499
Barnes, p110 500
EAM, March 1944, p7
120
longer necessary for them to be repaired with adhesive tape – nor for anyone to go without a game
for the lack of a ball.501
Sport in Kent
It is surprising that, given that the boys were billeted in villages all around Maidstone, any school
sport was played at all. For its first report from its Kentish billets, the footballers reported their
make-do-and-mend approach:
At the end of last term the prospects for the 1939-40 Football season, apart from political
considerations, appeared at least as bright as usual…. Unfortunately we have had to deal with much
more difficult conditions. With the boys spread in groups over a wide area, a very limited number of
pitches available, and the removal of the Fourth Forms to Walmer, it has only been possible… to
arrange friendly games in the groups themselves, on the nearest pitches, and some Big-side trials on
the Maidstone Grammar School pitch…. Many other candidates for 1st
XI colours have not returned,
but we still have the makings of a good team.502
Maidstone Grammar lent its Fives Courts enabling the boys ‘to continue our Fives almost as in
normal times’503
as well as its swimming pool. The magazine reassured its readers that,
In the present circumstances it must be the first consideration of the authorities to provide each boy
with as many games as possible, although in consequence School cricket may have to suffer. We have
therefore rented the County ground in Mote Park, on which we have the use of four pitches…. The
distance of the billets from the School and the cricket ground prevents us from playing on long school
days… School games have of necessity been drastically reduced: some will be played by a combined
Maidstone Grammar School and Alleyn’s teams, others by a complete Alleyn’s team.504
However, athletics was neglected and the ‘only signs of athletic activity were the occasional cross-
country runs which took place in the Boxley, Sandling and Weavering Street districts,’ in which, the
magazine reported, ‘certain lorries played an important and favourable part!’ The magazine
reporters continued in cheery tone and announced their North West-bound move:
as soon as we arrived at Rossall, we realised that we had ample opportunity of pulling matters into
shape once more.
They compared the Rossall steeplechase water-jump to Alleyn’s: ‘a veritable Jordan compared with
our home brooklet!’505
Rossall
After four years of bracing sea air [at Rossall], cold showers and the wartime diet, the senior pupils
were as tough and fit as one can get.506
Brian Savory (Bn 1938-45) wrote that at Rossall the ‘main playing field was 22 acres; enabling a
number of games to take place at the same time.’ Peter Reeve (C 1941-48) explained that ‘one thing
501
Ibid, February 1948, p419 502
Ibid, November 1939, p275 503
Ibid, February 1940, p313 504
Ibid, June 1940, p353 505
Ibid, June 1941, p442 506
Brian Savory (Bn 1938-45)
121
you do get when you’re at a boarding school is plenty of sport…. if you’ve got a moment, an hour or
two and you don’t know what to do, you go and play.’
Those boys who survived the evacuation to Rossall came back with even more sporting prowess. Mr
Reeve proudly noted that,
when we went up to Rossall, Rossall played Alleyn’s at all sports, except rugby of course (they played
rugby, we played soccer) and every single match Rossall won. By the time we left in 1945, we beat
them in every sport except one. But anyway we turned the whole thing round, and that showed to
me, this is what boarding school does, you see.
It is true that our boys picked up new sporting skills when they were at Rossall. The magazine
claimed that ‘the number of Fives players has steadily increased until it has reached the stage to-day
when almost everyone in the School plays. Through so much practice, latent ability has been able to
make its appearance to the betterment of the School pairs.’507
Peter Philpott (B 1934-43) ‘tried to
keep Rugby Fives going in spite of the strange Rossall courts which had no back wall and a left-hand
buttress [Eton Fives]. We played two matches at Manchester against teams from the university…. I
partnered Peter Howard in the doubles and I was very sad to see that he was killed in the war – he
was a very fine all-round sportsman.’
Boxing was reinstigated as an Alleyn’s sport at Rossall – and this was one sport where there was
collaboration with their fellows at Rossall. In its final write-up of the School’s evacuation to Rossall, a
RSM Darrell is thanked for his unstinting ‘services, often under most trying conditions. He did a great
deal to keep Boxing alive in the School during our sojourn at Rossall, and largely through his efforts
on the eve of our return to Dulwich, we are ready to uphold the School’s Boxing tradition.’508
In addition to English sports, the Alleyn’s boys were introduced to Rossall hockey; Mr Savory
described it:
Hockey on the shore was an incredibly fast game. When the tide was out acres of golden sands were
exposed over which a hockey ball would travel at great speed. After the game we were required to
wade across the open-air swimming pool and run to our Houses to change for tea.
A move to the North West gave the boys new opponents to face. The names of Bolton School,
Merchant Taylors’ Crosby, Rossall, St Bees and Stonyhurst, Leeds University all started to appear on
the School’s fixtures lists. Another opponent was the RAF at Blackpool – whose football team had
several international players on their side: Stanley Matthews and J Stevenson (Ireland) and Paterson
(Scotland). This match is reported in more detail in the chapter ‘Distinguished boys and visitors’.
Rossall had an outdoor swimming pool, the memory of which made our AOBs (and your
correspondent) shudder. Frank Halford (R 1942-49) said that the swimming pool
was so cold, and I learned to swim in that swimming bath, Tom Bowen taught me, and I was so
thrilled at being able to swim. I swam and I swam and the next I knew I was waking up in the San
[sanatorium]. Someone picked me up out of the water, because I’d frozen, I must have been, I was
unconscious!
507
EAM, May 1943, p40 508
Ibid, July 1945, p180
122
Sports-keen Dr Philpott, was more sanguine, writing, ‘We made good use of the Rossall open-air
swimming pool, including some water-polo matches, in spite of its odd shape – one side was several
yards longer than the other!’ Mr Reeve remembered the night swimming raids:
We used to go in the middle of the night swimming, I always remember this, one of us in the dorm
would wake up at about two o’clock in the morning; we’d all get ready and creep across, down
through the house, across the quadrangle – there was a lot of shingle there, so it would make a lot of
noise, you had to be very careful – then across the other side of the quadrangle over to the swimming
pool. We’d then have a swim and come back…. We did get caught out, eventually we got caught, and
the Headmaster had to cane us. I don’t know why he had to, but he thought he needed to.
‘It warmed you up!’ suggested Mr Stewart.
Reading between the lines of the June 1941 magazine report about the swimming pool at Rossall,
you can sense an unease,
Last year we were initiated into the use of an open-air bath for school swimming, and having thus
started in a comparatively small way at Maidstone Grammar School we have now graduated to
Rossall’s larger, and perhaps colder, salt-water bath.
The exposed nature of the bath did not encourage much swimming last term, but one afternoon a
few brave (or should we say feckless) fanatics took the plunge into the murky water. The whole
venture should be termed a ‘dip’ rather than a ‘swim’.
Since then the bath has undergone a course of cleaning and sun-ray treatment and is now more
inviting. The invitation has not been generally accepted yet but we feel that it will be when it is
extended with greater warmth.509
Something referenced in the magazine – but not our AOBs – was the ‘standard test’.
One further activity must not go unmentioned – the Standard Test. Throughout the term the senior
part of the School has been running, sprinting, walking and climbing in an effort to reach the required
standard of physical attainment laid down by some remote and unfeeling authority. The percentage
of those who passed in the four age groups was most encouraging and it is hoped that the sight of so
many daintily decorated lapels this term will be a spur to greater efforts those cheated of this coveted
distinction.510
I wonder which authority (school or governmental) developed this test?
South London Emergency Secondary School (SLESS)
As we have seen in the chapter examining SLESS, with the playing fields given over to barrage
balloons and allotments, as well as the sudden onslaught of air-raids, there was not much emphasis
placed on games and sport at SLESS. The SLESS report commented that ‘Many of the boys had never
before played cricket, but some of them shaped well and it was refreshing to see how keen they
were to hit the ball really hard.’511
509
Ibid, June 1941, p448 510
Ibid, January 1943, p5 511
Ibid, October 1941, p475
123
Mr Reeve noted that when the Rossall boys returned to Dulwich, even though SLESS numbered
‘about 450 boys at SLESS, about 200 or whatever it was from Alleyn’s,’ it was remarkable that ‘only
one of the SLESS boys got into the First XI, the other ten came from Rossall…. Within two years it had
sorted itself out.’
Pre-war glory days
Once everyone came back to Dulwich, there was an inevitable harking back to life before the war,
and this was especially true in the realms of sport. The athletes remembered the School’s ‘strong
running tradition, especially in Cross-Country, where the school has won many coveted trophies.’512
However, even with the advantage (or disadvantage) of Rossall’s sea water swimming pool, it was
noted that ‘we return to London to find that the general standards of swimming had suffered during
the war. House Captains found that only 50% of their Houses could swim.’ By 1947 swimming was
getting better and the ‘standard of swimming now shows signs of improvement, and with a good
nucleus… we hope we shall soon reach our pre-war level.’513
The Ministry of Education’s inspectors
in 1950 estimated ‘that approximately 61% of the boys in the School can swim.’514
The cricketers started their review of their first serious post-war season with
The question in everybody’s mind is: How does the cricket of 1946 compare with that of 1939?
They concluded that ‘Generally speaking the pre-war standard has been maintained and could even
be improved on,’515
which wasn’t bad when you consider that the cricketers returned to Dulwich the
year before to ‘a ground like a long field’516
In 1949, the cricketers had much to be proud about – two of its side were selected to represent the
Public Schools Cricket at Lords. ‘MJ Stewart played for Southern Schools v. the Rest, and also was
awarded the Public Schools Cap for playing for the Public Schools against the Combined Services.’517
John Pretlove (C 1944-51) joined Mr Stewart in the Amateurs of Surrey team.518
Mr Pretlove was also instrumental in improving the standard of Fives play at the School. In 1948, the
magazine’s Fives reporters wrote that the ‘steady improvement observed throughout 1947-48 has
been maintained and the results of the 25 matches played this season show clearly that the standard
of play must now be approaching that of the very good years before the war.’519
Mr Hughes lists ‘John Pretlove, Roy Birmingham, Bob Smith,’ as ‘excellent players and were National
Champions whilst at school and as Old Boys, both at singles and doubles. Sidney Batrick (b 1943-47)
and Pretlove became UK doubles champions.’ Mr Hughes told us that ‘Mr Batrick played a lot of
512
Ibid, February 1948, p415 513
Ibid , October 1947, p388 514
HMIs report, 1950, p18 515
EAM, November1946, p284 516
Ibid, November 1945, p206 517
Ibid, November 1949, p588 518
Ibid, November 1949, p613 519
Ibid, May 1949, p565
124
Fives and also coached the school boys after his retirement from work.’520
As we will see in the
chapter ‘Distinguished boys and visitors’, other AOBs came to help Alleyn’s with its athletic activities
– the Rt Hon Lord Higgins and Dr Harold Moody. This was recognised by the inspectors, ‘…it is
pleasing to record the valuable help given by one or two Old Boys who live in the locality, and who
have attained distinction as athletes of national standing.’521
Robert Young, who was the master in charge of athletics, credits the input of these two for the
School’s improvement on the athletics field.
[The Governors] and the Headmaster were stingy in the extreme. They never came up with enough
financial help, and the only reason that Alleyn's kept coming up with international standard athletes
was the dedication of a few members of the staff, the unstinted support of Terry Higgins AOB who ran
the 440 yards for England, and Harold Moody AOB a doctor in Peckham, who did his training as shot-
putter for the English team on our grounds, and coached our young hopefuls in the field events.
Meanwhile I gradually introduced some matches into the summer term. [Athletics] had been
outlawed before the war by the demands of cricket under Henderson.522
Continuing our pre-glory days of Alleyn’s theme, the magazine thanked Young for ‘for his enthusiasm
and energy during the past season in guiding the School back to the pre-war tradition of athletics at
Alleyn’s.’523
Colours
Young was a dedicated athletics coach; yet another dispute he clashed swords with Hudson over was
the issue of colours.
Mr Hudson refused in his headmastership to give colours to younger boys. He still regarded such an
action as likely to make them swollen-headed.
As we have seen in the chapter on DiscipIine, Young had wanted to give full colours to the 16-year-
old David Fournel [S 53-57], for breaking the school long-jump record, but ‘Hudson dug his feet in
and absolutely refused to allow such an award to one so young’.524
Mr Williams remembered the honour bestowed on you if you were awarded colours.
If you were selected to play in a school sports side you were listed as Williams JA, for example, if you
hadn’t got your colours; but as JA Williams on receipt of them. Almost like Amateur and Professional!
You were listed higher if you had received your colours.
There were critics of the prominence of sport at Alleyn’s, with Puff Smith – who else – spluttering,
‘The games fetish throughout the secondary schools has been a far greater menace to an education
520
Later, Sidney Batrick opened the School’s refurbished Fives courts as they were going to be named after
him. Mr Hughes told us that Mr Batrick ‘was so pleased when they named them after him’. 521
HMIs’ report, 1950, p18 522
Young, p229 523
EAM, June 1946, p253 524
Young, p231
125
designed to produce a sensitivity and awareness.’525
Young, admittedly an ally of Smith’s, outlined
one of Puff’s limitations as Roper’s Housemaster.
There is no doubt the School owed a debt of gratitude to Smith for all the work he, as a dedicated
bachelor and musician, put into the School, but as one of the eight Housemasters he was often the
odd man out, disliking compulsory games, and leaving his House teams to a voluntary turn-out - most
frustrating to the other seven Houses with full turn-outs. 526
For Smith – as we have seen – his goal was loftier than sport:
…quite often [the boys] are placed in the position, quite unnecessarily, of choosing whether they shall
represent the House at football, or rehearse for the greater glory of God.527
The more earth-bound inspectors pronounced that at Alleyn’s ‘Physical Education is recognised as an
important part of the boys' education.’528
Despite this, they were critical of the gymnasium which ‘is
an old building, and many of its features, both of design and structure, fail to conform with modern
planning… the lack of a changing room and shower annexe.’529
Surprisingly, this lack of changing
facilities had been a criticism of the Ministry of Education’s predecessors when they came to call
some 18 years before, in 1932: ‘It is desirable on hygienic grounds and in order to secure complete
freedom of movement that the boys should change for the gymnastic lessons….'.530
Certainly from the post-war period on, the reports in the magazine are crammed with detail and
analysis of all the sports the boys – and Old Boys – played. The School was back to its former glory –
even though its players may not have been as fragrant as the inspectors might have wished.
525
Smith, p29 526
Young, p222 527
Smith, p29 528
HMIs’ report, 1950, p20 529
Ibid, 1950, p18 530
Board of Education Report, 1932, p22
126
The cadet forces and the Home Guard�
�‘Like all public schools, Alleyn's had a full-scale Army Cadet Force. For more than a century young men
had been trained in public schools to administer the Empire and military training was an automatic
part of their education.’ Roy Barnes, Twenty-Five Years On: One Boy’s Growing Up, p97
Membership of the cadet force at Alleyn’s was compulsory, unless, in John Williams’s (R 1943-49)
words ‘you were medically unfit, or your parents were conscientious objectors.’ There were few of
those and those who were, remembered Alan Jackson (C 1945-51) ‘went to first aid’. John Holt (S
1945-51) wrote that ‘Maj SR Hudson, the Headmaster, was very keen on pupils having Army or RAF
training and most of the younger masters were officers.’ The inspectors reported that,
Tradition at Alleyn's expects all boys after they enter the Middle School to belong to the combined
Cadet Force unless prevented by physical infirmity or on religious grounds. The average strength of
the Combined Cadet Force is 490-500 boys. It is the second largest in London and is only exceeded by
such Public Schools as Charterhouse, Eton and Oundle.531
During this decade the cadet force at Alleyn’s changed its name three times. It started out as the
Officers Training Corps (OTC) and, during the war, was democratically re-named the Junior Training
Corps (JTC) – and in 1942 an Air Training Corps (ATC) was added; then in 1948 the two sections
became the Combined Cadet Force (CCF).
Last term the JTC and ATC amalgamated into the Combined Cadet Force to form a single training unit.
This unit consists of three parts: a Basic Training Unit, in which training is done up to the standard of
Cert ‘A’, Part I; RAF Unit and Army Unit. Both these do more advanced specialist training. The CCF at
present is nearly 500 strong, and looks a fine spectacle on Battalion Parade.532
Preparation for war
There is an increased keenness to join the JTC and a great desire on all sides to do everything to
support the nation's war-effort. 533
For Bruce Cox (Tn 1941-44) there ‘was one part of School life on which I was very keen. That was the
School cadet corps, or as it was properly known, the Officer Training Corps. The title gives an
indication of the intentions of the School. We were being trained to be officers, not mere
privates.’534
Robert Young, however, was sceptical:
The actual training done by the school OTC… was hopeless as a preparation for any war much after
the Crimean; but it did at least give you practice in taking stupid orders as well as intelligent ones, and
obeying without question.535
As the war continued, there is more of a sense of urgency about preparing the boys to fight in the
war compared to the previous decade. On Speech Day in 1942, the Headmaster commented that
531
HMIs’ report, p20 532
EAM, February 1949, p531 533
SLESS report in EAM, March 1942, p510 534
Bromley Probus, p10 535
Young, p101
127
Physical education today was necessarily closely connected with military training. The high
percentage of successful candidates in the recent Cert A examinations, and our Home Guard training,
were evidence that we were playing our part in the preparation for the Forces.536
By 1944 this intensifying of the military training was being openly admitted: ‘More and more as the
war goes on the routine of instruction and training (much changed and more ambitious than the pre-
war syllabus) resembles a well-ordered machine.’537
The boys had instruction from serving soldiers;
up at Rossall,
‘A’ Coy received assistance from the Royal Corps of Signals, who sent down a sergeant every week.
This meant that a full programme of wireless procedure was done; this was often combined with
tactical exercises…538
And they were getting new equipment,
‘A’ Coy acquired considerable new equipment and was hard at work technically learning to master it.
Its appearance on field day was most impressive and the bulkiness of the signalling gear demanded
the use of transport – a new departure in JTC field days, pointing to the modern ideas of war.539
Activities
Gerry Thain (Tn 1938-44) remembered that, ‘once a week [the OTC ] assembled. The day before, in
the morning we were there polishing all the brass and cleaning boots and generally making
ourselves ready for parade.’ Roy Barnes (Bn 1942-48) ‘quite enjoyed the Friday afternoon parades,
learning to march and shoulder the old Lee Enfield rifle, and to shoot it with live ammunition in the
school's own rifle range.’540
Sandy Alexander (B 1938-47) remembered that they ‘didn’t have proper
uniform as it was being issued to the troops. We had these trousers, sort of plus fours, with puttees
to fill the gap (puttees like khaki bandages).’ Roy Dann (D 1937-42) remembered the puttees too:
‘we worried about them falling down.’
When Alleyn’s was evacuated to Kent, the OTC went with it. The magazine – needlessly I feel –
apologised for the OTC’s ‘late start’ owing to ‘the transference of the School to Maidstone and the
difficulties of assembling there’. The OTC despatch in the magazine reported that ‘Cert “A” work… is
considered by the War Office to be increasingly important now, began immediately.’541
The OTC
536
EAM, October 1942, p573; Frank Halford (R 1942-49) kindly explained what ‘Cert A’ was, as well as its value
to him in his subsequent National Service: ‘We learnt how to march, to give commands and march others, to
read maps, to fire the .22 rifle in the School Range, to handle the 303, to dismantle and re-assemble a Bren
gun in a certain time, to blanco and polish and various other things which I have forgotten. If one passed the
first lot of tests, one was awarded Certificate A Part 1, then after successfully passing more, one gained Cert A
Part 2. It was only later that I realised how useful this would be. I joined up – National Service – in December
1949 and reported to the Welch Regiment at Brecon in company with about 60 other 18- year-olds. After two
weeks of drill – square bashing – we were asked who had Cert A? Some 16 of us, perhaps not as many, were
then treated differently. While the others carried on with more drill and route marches, we spent a lot of time
on the firing range with the 303 Lee Enfield rifle and LMG [Light Machine Gun] otherwise known as the Bren
Gun, and throwing hand grenades and firing mortar shells on the Brecon Beacons. I know many men hated
their initial 12 weeks Basic Army Training, but thanks to Cert A, I quite enjoyed it.’ 537
Ibid, November 1944, p130 538
Ibid, May 1944, p103 539
Ibid, March 1944, p82 540
Barnes, p113 541
EAM, February 1940, p313
128
quickly found places to practise in Kent, using Mote Park for field work and Maidstone Grammar
School’s range for shooting.542
However, as the Battle of Britain raged over head, changes had to be
made:
Parades were held at Albion Place instead of Maidstone Grammar School, owing to increased air
activity: accordingly not a little of the work had to be done in shelters, or in the quadrangle, under the
watchful eye of a ‘spotter’.543
The OTC – now the JTC – then loaded up the railway cars with its kit for the journey to Rossall in
1941.
The JTC, together with the rest of the School, was transported from Maidstone to Rossall. This
entailed a considerable removal of books, papers and furniture. The first few weeks were busily spent
in building and then furnishing and preparing an orderly room. The JTC once more had an opportunity
of appearing as normal with three companies…
The despatch added ominously, ‘As a whole the tempo of training has accelerated rapidly’; perhaps
in recognition of the increase in war activity?
Rossall School was one of the first public schools to have a Rifle Corps which was founded on 1
February 1860, several months before those of Eton, Harrow, Rugby, Marlborough and
Winchester.544
At Rossall the schools’ joined forces to form an ATC unit under a Rossall teacher, Mr
White (a WW1 Royal Flying Corps observer). Bill Jones (R 1935-42), who was the first sergeant
appointed to the unit, described in a letter the first-ever flight of the Alleyn's/Rossall ATC:
We travelled to Squires Gate Coastal Command Training Station by tram and were divided into two
parties and taken up in Avro Ansons by two Polish pilots who flew to the middle of Blackpool and
chased each other round the tower at surprisingly low level; I think we were all sick....
All our AOBs remembered the JTC Field Days. There is an amusing account of one Field Day in Mote
Park where, ‘amongst the more entertaining and instructive of which was the sight of two
reconnaissance patrols in dark glasses which transformed sunshine into darkness, stealthily
attempting to discover each other.’545
At Rossall, the highlight of the Field Days was tea at Listers’
Café. After enduring a Field Day at Knott End where ‘the corps had a very strenuous day,’ which was
made, ‘all the more enjoyable since there was a gargantuan tea at Listers’ Café.’546
A year later,
The field days are becoming an institution which is as valuable as it is enjoyable. Battles (directed with
considerable tactical skill) rage across the well known country. The country admirably suits sub-unit
training, and a high standard of field-craft is being engendered throughout the Corps. Then there is
the great moment of relaxation – tea at Listers’ Café.547
Clearly, Lister’s Café was becoming part of that institution. In the same summer, during the holidays,
the ‘NCOs and cadets visited an RAF Station. During very warm weather a full course of instruction
542
Ibid, November 1940, p392 543
Ibid, March 1941, p419 544
DLM, p12 545
EAM, November 1940, p393 546
Ibid, May 1943, p41 547
Ibid, November 1944, p130
129
was undertaken and several cadets were able to fly. Last term we visited another RAF Station and 15
cadets had an opportunity of seeing Rossall from the air.’548
The institution of Field Day continued – as it still does today – after the war. Mr Barnes recalled,
Once a term we went on Field Day, during which we pretended to be real soldiers and conducted
manoeuvres on Epsom Downs. We had a marvellous time playing a slightly more involved game of
Cowboys and Indians, one big, enjoyable laugh.549
In 1946 there is an account of possibly one of the wettest Field Days in the magazine:
On May 31st a field day was held at Kingswood. This took place in the worst weather that ever beset a
field day. After noon there was no break in the torrential rain, but despite the weather much valuable
training was done: ‘Cover’ took on an entirely new and non-text book significance.550
Mr Holt explained that ‘Field Day was held on the Friday before half-term, all Field Days, except two,
being held on Epsom Downs.’
We would catch a train from North Dulwich railway station to Epsom Downs station, but for some
reason, we used to return from Tattenham Corner station. One Field Day was spent at Knole Park,
Sevenoaks and the most vivid memory that I have of that particular Field Day was seeing the RSM
carrying an anti-tank weapon on his shoulder, up the steep and long Tubs Hill, from Sevenoaks
Railways Station – he was certainly a strong chap!... On Field Days we used to participate in
manoeuvres and practise our map-reading skills.551
For Mr Barnes, Field Day allowed him to fly, something which he had always wanted to do,
While the army cadets went off cavorting on Epsom Downs, we aristocrats of the ATC, as we saw
ourselves, went off to Biggin Hill, the most famous fighter station of the second world war. On the
first occasion we were taken up in Percival Proctors, two-seater training aircraft, where the learner
sat next to the instructor… We had to wear old-style, Biggles-like leather helmets with headphones
inside so that we could hear the instructor above the noise of the propeller engine just in front of us
and the roar of the wind.
The pilots who took us up on that first-ever flight for me were Polish Battle of Britain veterans, whose
English was almost impossible to understand once we were inside the plane… We were not allowed
to touch the joystick, but it moved as the pilot adjusted the ailerons, and, chocks away, sped down
the runway, a tremendous feeling of excitement as the nose turned up to the sky and the pressure of
the climb pushed the chest back….
My pilot sang Polish songs at the top of his voice as he put the plane into a steep climb towards the
sun.552
Peter Wrench (C 1945-49) might have been another of these Polish airmen’s victims. He told the
tale:
548
Ibid, March 1944, p82 549
Barnes, p113 550
EAM, November 1946, p293 551
King, p89 552
Barnes, p115
130
I remember on one occasion… we had some mad Polish airforce guys take us up. Seeing what was
going on, I let all the others go up and thought we’d maybe pack up and I wouldn’t have to do all this
looping. But ultimately, it came to my time and I remember the first loop the loop, I was crouching
down to say my last prayers with houses flying overhead and clouds over there – I was terrified. But
having done the first one, the pilot said ‘how was that?’ and I said, ‘well, let’s do it again.’ Then I
asked him to fly over Woking as my uncle lived there and in about five seconds we seemed to be over
there!
Unfortunately, on that trip, Mr Wrench was in charge of ‘about half the lads and Meaty Le Feuvre,
our history master, was the honorary flight lieutenant for the purposes of being with us, he was in
charge of the other half of the lads. I forgot to change at Clapham Junction so I was given a complete
dressing down by him when we finally got back.’
Annual Inspection
Another institution for the School’s cadet force was the Annual Inspection, although none of our
AOBs mentioned it directly.
In 1940, the magazine starkly reported that ‘the annual inspection was cancelled by the War
Office.’553
The contingent wasn’t inspected until two years later, by Col EL Musson, DSO, MC,
Commanding the Preston Area, who ‘complimented the Corps on its keenness and efficiency.’554
At
the JTC’s last inspection at Rossall, the inspecting officer declared that they were, ‘A good unit, well
commanded. In spite of the difficulties of being evacuated, the contingent has reached a high
standard of training and is to be congratulated on the results obtained.’555
The inspecting officer of 1948 clearly knew how to get the boys on his side: Maj Gen Sir Arthur AB
Dowler, KBE, CB: ‘in his address to the contingent congratulated it on its steadiness on parade, its
enthusiasm and efficiency. He asked the Headmaster for a JTC half-holiday, which was granted.’556
Home Guard
The older boys and the staff joined the Local Defence Volunteer Patrol (later named the Home
Guard557
), both in Kent and at Fleetwood. The magazine announced that:
Last term saw the inauguration of the Local Defence Volunteer Patrols, and every Wednesday night
since, a number of masters and boys have sacrificed five hours sleep to safeguard the life and liberty
of the population of Boxley. From half past nine every Wednesday night to half past four every
Thursday morning the sundry fauna of the Pilgrims’ Way have been disturbed by ungainly khaki-clad
forms, their shoulders weighed down by .303s, hunched (as far as a constricting webbing belt and its
dependent cape would allow) over their two-wheeled transports, and making their ponderous way
along the road that was formerly graced by the light-hearted but equally slow-moving Canterbury
Pilgrims.558
553
EAM, November 1940, p393 554
Ibid, March 1942, p514 555
Ibid, July 1945, p177 556
Ibid, November 1948, p487 557
The name was changed because the initials of Local Defence Volunteers, LDV, quickly became short for
‘Look, Duck, Vanish’. 558
EAM, November 1940, pp393-4
131
The employment of masters in the Home Guard made for some amusing descriptions:
…Though the first sight of the masters in battle-dress irresistibly suggested a party of benevolent
share-pushers who had been granted a night’s parole from Maidstone Gaol, even this phenomenon is
now taken for granted, and we boys (now, by a War Office order compelled, to our not considerable
chagrin, to wear ‘civvies’) are eagerly awaiting our own ‘genuine West-end misfits’.
Boys are coming to learn more of their masters than has hitherto been possible, for in the course of
half nightly conversations under the sun (or rather under the moon) certain hitherto reserved
members of the Staff have evinced palpable signs of (shall it be said?) a sense of humour.
Finally, let us assure the citizens of Maidstone and its environs that, on Wednesday nights at least,
they may rest easy in their beds, confident in the knowledge that the traffic on the ______ Road is still
being stopped and searched, reckless of personal risk, for enemy aliens, Chinese stowaways, and
Burmese castaways, and that small but determined squads of boys continue to foil every attempt by
enemy sympathisers to deposit putrifying flesh in the waters of that Indispensable Public Utility, the
_______ Pumping Station.559
Mr Henry Tilley (R 1935-40) remembered how the role of master and pupil were reversed when he
and Henderson served alongside each other in the LDV at Maidstone. 'In my last term at Maidstone,
we senior boys were formed into the LDV to combat the threat of German invasion after Dunkirk
and I had to patrol the Pilgrims' Way in case of parachute attack.... My companion over several
nights was none other than RB Henderson. Well, I was a duffer, the laughing stock of the OTC, but
compared with Henderson, I was a warrior!'560
Mr Thain recalled ‘going on to the seafront to watch our home guard teachers tackling an assault
course through the sand – real ‘Dad’s Army’! Once the army brought some vehicle – I think it was a
tank which got stuck in the very loose sand and had to be left overnight.’
And with ‘ingenious devices’ as recommended by ‘Mr B-S’ in the following Fifty Club report, it is
hardly surprising the Home Guard was such a good source of comedy for so many years:
Mr B-S discoursed at length on modern Home Guard methods, and recommended numbers of
ingenious devices for outwitting the Boche, should an invasion ever occur. It was learnt that tanks
could be stopped by the judicious use of such innocent things as blankets; the common hatpin, the
scissor-blade, were seen to possess extraordinary lethal properties, when diverted from their original
purpose. The Secretary [JE Silvester] will never look a cheese-wire in the face again.561
There are more incidents to underline the ‘Carry on’ nature of the Home Guard platoon and their
associates:
A local Warship Week gave a few people the chance of marching to a band again, but it was distinctly
unsettling when two bands started in opposition and the whole column began an undecided hop skip
and jump movement. Recent night operations have added to the interest, and sinister silent figures
559
Ibid, November 1940, p394 560
‘Alleyn’s in the 1930s’, p37 561
Ibid, March 1941, p414
132
creep around the school looking like minstrels, occasionally frightening members of the domestic
staff.562
In 1942, ‘the present efficiency of our Home Guard was well shown by the mistake of a NAAFI mobile
canteen who mistook us for a platoon of regulars when we were on exercises one afternoon. They
stopped and offered us liberal refreshment. Our enthusiasm for outdoor exercises has now
noticeably increased.’563
Comedy aside, the volunteers in the Home Guard realised they played an important role in
defending the country.‘D-day brought us an expectant Stand-to, but Hitler did not accept the
challenge. So it was with mingled feelings that we took off our khaki and once again moved freely in
and out of School.’564
A year later the magazine announced ‘the “Stand-down” of the Home Guard is
noted’565
and it gave a review of the Alleyn’s platoon’s war-time activities, which I think is worth
quoting in full:
After 4 ½ years of service the Home Guard stood down on Sunday, December 2nd
. Although we
breathed a sigh of relief that the national emergency was over, we nevertheless felt certain tinges of
regret that Home Guard days were ended. Though the times of parades are now things of the past,
we still cherish vivid memories of what was done.
First formed in the hectic days of 1940 at Maidstone, when the cold and murky nights were spent in
frightening innocent people on the Pilgrims’ Way, the Alleyn’s platoon of the Home Guard became
one of the main functions of the senior part of the school. When it came to Rossall in January 1941,
the Home Guard undertook its task to patrol the sea wall ‘without selfishness and without fear’ on
even colder and murkier nights, often with a typical Rossall gale blowing. For this many of our juniors
of those days will testify, by being fearsomely challenged on their way to the Cinderella Home566
by
desperate-looking personages in battle-dress. What sleeping there was, was done on uncomfortable
palliasses in the woodwork building and as a special temptation the Home Guard was offered sardine
sandwiches for a nightcap! Some energetic members gave up their beauty sleep to go, black-faced, on
night schemes, and their week-ends to endure battle courses at Moss Side, where once the jealous
School learnt that the Home Guard had been given ice-cream!
The remainder of the School will never forget the assault course when eminent members of the staff
were seen gingerly picking their way through barbed wire and jumping gracefully over pits. Just as
memorable, especially to gaping juniors, was the sight of school-boy NCOs giving orders to masters,
and having these orders obeyed with the greatest possible alacrity. Fiercely-armed pedants crawling
on their copious stomachs and rushing desperately from cover to cover, were scenes never to be
forgotten. Sloping arms with Sten guns and wearing field-service caps back to front produced loud
guffaws from the seasoned veterans of the JTC, but Alleyn’s Home Guard was an efficient and
effective fighting unit, if ever the need had arisen.
562
Ibid, May 1942, p552 563
Ibid, May 1943, p42 564
Ibid, November 1944, p134 565
Ibid, March 1945, p143 566
The Cinderella House, a holiday home for poor children half a mile down the seashore, was where 37 of the
boys were temporarily housed to alleviate pressure on dormitory space at Rossall in 1941.
133
There was no parade or march-past when the Alleyn’s platoon stood down – there was no ceremony
whatever, but the members recall with smiles and grimaces the days when they were the gallant
band of people who ‘also serve that stand and wait.’567
SLESS
Mr Robert Howlett (B 1944-50) lived in Martell Road and he remembered that the factory there,
Telephone Manufacturing Co, ‘had its own Home Guard. When they had exercises in Chancellor
Grove, which was all bombed out houses, my friends and I “helped” by pointing out the “defenders”
to the “attackers”.’
As we have seen, the boys at SLESS, as well as ‘helping’ the local Home Guard, had ‘a great desire to
do everything to support the nation’s war-effort’.568
The SLESS boys were also practising drill and
going on Field Days. In 1940, the magazine announced that at ‘the beginning of the Trinity Term OTC
training began at Dulwich for those cadets at present at the South London Emergency Secondary
School.’569
Two years later the ‘The JTC is going strong, with a Cert A squad parading at all sorts of
odd times and places, and many of our boys have joined ATC units and Home Guard Cadets.’570
By
1944, the numbers of boys in the OTC at SLESS were over 60. There was almost a nostalgic reverie in
the magazine’s report of SLESS’s JTC’s Field Day which ‘saw the whole contingent roaming over
Epsom Downs during the holidays, much in the style of pre-war days.’571
Post-war cadet forces
Back at Dulwich, the JTC resumed its activities and, as with academic and sporting achievements,
tried to reassure its readers that the ‘Corps is gradually reverting to a pre-war normality in its
appearance,’ adding,
The only loss to efficiency this term was occasioned by lack of sufficient battle dress for all members
of ‘A’, ‘B’ and ‘C’ Coys…. it was not a gain to smartness of turnout or efficiency on Bn. Parade that so
many senior cadets should have to wear plain clothes. At the present moment there is every chance
that new uniforms will be ready for next term…572
Another way the JTC measured its return to ‘its normal pre-war appearance’ was,
the return of Captains FA Meerendonk, LAR Shackleton and RHD Young. May we state how very glad
we are to see them on parade.573
For Young, it took time to readjust to being back amongst school boys:
We all wore khaki on Friday afternoons, and it was surprising how difficult it was to avoid using
soldier language when dressed like a soldier and to avoid the lingo which everybody in the services
will recognise as unsuitable when addressing children!574
567
EAM, March 1945, pp153-54 568
Ibid, March 1942, p510 569
Ibid, June 1940, p357 570
Ibid, October 1942, p571 571
Ibid, May 1944, p101 572
Ibid, June 1946, p256 573
Ibid, February 1946, p230
134
Alongside shortages and returning staff, the JTC had to contend with the harshness of the 1947
winter: ‘There were many days when snow lay deep on the quadrangle and the school buildings
were chill and inhospitable. The need was felt for an indoor parade ground.’575
Air Training Corps
In 1947 the ATC unit proudly reported that it ‘is bigger than it has ever been since the return of the
School from Rossall.’ Mr Wrench was already a member of the Brixton Air Cadets before joining
Alleyn’s at the age of 14. He ‘was very reluctant to join the school contingent as the Brixton one had
a lovely band that I was very proud to march behind on Sundays. I was made aware of Soapy
Hudson’s attitude that unless I joined the school contingent I’d be really up the creek without a
paddle. So I did so then ultimately became senior NCO of the flight contingent.’
Mr Williams was also a member of the ATC; he recounted that he ‘was pleased to get Cert A in the
CCF, so that I could “skive” a bit by going into the ATC – less drilling under the Guards’ control and
more class work, observing silhouettes of aircraft, morse code and studying cloud-formations.’ Mr
Barnes enjoyed
learning Morse Code and how to send Morse signals - da, di, da, dit. This had the immense attraction
of a secret code that we could da-dit to one another in the classroom when we wanted to send secret
messages, but it took so long to do and was almost impossible to decipher that it was hardly worth
bothering with, but it made us look big, giving us a feeling of being members of some superior, secret
brotherhood.
Mr Barnes added that ‘we also learnt the theory of flight, the fascinating, hardly believable physics
of lift and drag.’576
The boys in the ATC managed to experience for themselves the unbelievable
physics of lift and drag by flying. Derek Smith recalled visiting ‘RAF Kenley for a day where we had a
flight in a war-time Anson transport ‘plane.’
Mr Barnes reminisced about a week’s camp at Thorney Island RAF station. It was ‘under canvas,
during which we messed with the airmen and got to know what it was like to be in the Air Forces.
We drilled and attended lectures and had the run of the camp, could shop at the NAAFI and feel we
were grown up.’577
There he flew a Dakota, ‘the ubiquitous American transport plane, that
dependable, but oh so uncomfortable, war horse of the second world war. It was a bit like flying in a
beer crate, slow and bumpy,’ and in so doing, ended his ATC career by bursting his eardrum on his
first flight in one. 578
As we have seen, Mr Wrench, like Mr Barnes, also managed to fly, but not without some wheeler-
dealer-ing with his friend, the late Dr Clive Chapman:
He used to copy my homework and steal my JAGS girlfriends. In return he lent me his father’s bike
and wrote parents’ permission letters for me to fly with the ATC (my nervous mother never forgave
him).
574
Young, p228 575
EAM, June 1947, p356 576
Barnes, p114 577
Ibid, pp117-16 578
EAM, June 1947, p355
135
Staff
The staff who oversaw the JTC in the post-war years were Maj LAR Shackleton, the CO, and Maj RHD
Young, his deputy. Prior to that, Maj Sidney Hudson had held the command since 1936. On his
promotion to Headmaster in 1947, he stood down as CO. The magazine published its thanks:
The debt owed to Major Hudson by the Corps, and no less by the School, is more than can ever be
repaid. It may be said that his aims have always been to raise the efficiency and status of the
contingent, and he has attained marked success in both these aims. This is proved by the excellent
record of passes in the cert ‘A’ exams and in other courses, the reports of Inspecting Officers and the
hi position held by the Corps among JTCs.
It must be a great satisfaction to Maj Hudson to hand over to his successor the contingent in such fine
condition, and we are glad to know that, as Headmaster, he will still give it his support, while no
longer taking any active part in its work.579
At this same time, Hudson appointed a new member of staff: Sgt Maj Eric Randall of the Grenadier
Guards. He had been demobbed the year before and was to be the contingent RSM to Alleyn’s
School JTC. At the time Randall ‘thought that he might take the job for a few months until he had
settled into civilian life. The few months became 46 years,’ and in those years, he was to oversee
6,000 pupils.580
There is a bust of him in the School’s entrance hall which has as its inscription, ‘In
grateful appreciation of loyal and devoted service to the School from 1948-1993 the longest period
by any individual in the history of Alleyn’s College of God’s Gift’.
579
Ibid, February 1948, p420 580
Chandler, p137
136
Privilege at Alleyn’s
‘The boys were also a motley collection ranging from pure public school (mostly at Rossall) to LCC
warehouse sweepings like myself.’ Norman Wetherick (B, 1941-48)
Derek Smith (R 1947-53) remembered that the boys at Alleyn’s came from, ‘all sorts of backgrounds.
A pal of mine and his father were working in the market down in Peckham, but when we all got
together we didn’t talk about family, you just wanted friends because up to then you didn’t really
have friends, whilst you were evacuated, you were all split up and they sent you everywhere. [It
was] Very lonely during the war.’
Bruce Cox (Tn 1941-44) was ‘very pleased to come here when I passed my intermediate LCC
scholarship which could have taken me to Dulwich College, or a variety of other schools. My father
was a police constable, and the old headmaster said to him, “you’re only a constable; we do not
suggest you send your son to Dulwich College”. There was a lot of social division at that time. He
suggested that my father sent me here… and now it highlights that a constable wasn’t quite in that
same strata.’ Mr Cox thought that ‘if [Dad] had been a police inspector or even a sergeant, it would
have been all right’.
Conversely, John Hughes (C 1945-51) felt that the boys’ ‘background didn’t make much difference. In
those days you took the 11+ county exam. If you passed you had a choice of schools.’ Ted Robinson
(Tn 1938-41) remembered that after being awarded a scholarship, it
qualified me for consideration by several prominent schools including Dulwich, Eltham, Alleyn’s,
Westminster (warned that intake was limited and favouring nepotism from fathers in Parliament and
the civil service), Christ’s Hospital (no way – with ginger stockings and skirts!), Mill Hill (North
London!).
It was really ‘no contest’. I had overheard my Head and another visiting Head comparing the merits of
Dulwich and Alleyn’s for their sons. Their comments favoured Alleyn’s; my mind and hopes were
settled.
In deciding which of the five schools to apply to, Derek Smith remembered putting ‘Alleyn’s first,
Dulwich College second, St Dunstan’s third, and they looked at it and laughed at it, and said, “if you
don’t get to Alleyn’s you certainly won’t get to Dulwich College”, because I’d put it second.’
Roy Dann (D 1937-42), who won a Junior County Scholarship, remembered that, ‘some of my friends
at my previous school referred to Alleyn’s as a ‘posh’ school.’ Alan Thomas, who was at SLESS,
confessed to feeling privileged at Alleyn’s:
the buildings, curriculum, staff, image, although not the full normal Alleyn’s or Wilson’s [to which he'd
won a scholarship] – it was inevitably a great advance on the LCC school I’d attended from five to 11.
Gordon Feeley (1941-50), another SLESS boy, reflected that, ‘now, I can see that it was a privilege.
I’m not sure I would have used that word then, I was certainly pleased. I’d known the school all my
life, but I never believed I could have got into it.’ For Roy Barnes (Bn 1942-49), Alleyn’s represented a
‘relief from the misery’ he’d endured after moving to a new home in suburban London from
countryside. He wrote
137
I hadn't yet been admitted, but my Uncle George had told me it was a good place and… [it] was on the
list of approved secondary schools for which the London County Council would pay the fees if I was
accepted.581
He was. Dr Norman Wetherick (B, 1941-48) also received a scholarship from the London County
Council and commented that ‘the LCC was a generous authority; they paid bus fares, a uniform
allowance and the school fees.’ John Williams (R 1943-49) passed ‘an entrance exam for here and
Dulwich, and, given the choice by my father, chose Alleyn’s.’
In the 1940s, Dulwich College was deemed to be ‘on a slightly higher plane than Alleyn’s,’ according
to Mr Hughes. Peter Rodway (C 1942-50) put the difference more strongly: ‘you almost weren’t
talking about it in the same breath, the College was the College, Alleyn’s was Alleyn’s, and ne’er the
twain should meet.’
Among our AOB-guests, there was a mix of scholarship boys and fee-payers. ‘Out of his £300-odd a
year salary,’ Mr Williams’s father ‘paid seven guineas a term for me plus about 12 & 6d for the train
fares from Petts Wood, via Bromley South, to Herne Hill. Very often we’d save a penny on the bus
fare and walk to school from Herne Hill.’ Another AOB remembered his father paying ‘£22 a year in
tuition fees.’
Admissions interviews
As you have seen, Dr Wetherick wrote that after the start of war,
In 1940-41 schools re-opened after a fashion and the LCC Junior County Scholarship exams were held
which I passed (one question was ‘Describe how to make a deckchair without using diagrams’).
Derek Smith’s admissions interview was with ‘the austere Mr (Col) Shackleton and [I] was accepted
at Alleyn’s. I remember a feeling of great relief and excitement at the prospect of going to such a
great school with all the facilities for education and sport which I had never experienced before.’
The reasons why our AOBs chose Alleyn’s varied (but not much). For Mr Barnes it was clear-cut:
I had known immediately I passed through the school gates that I wanted to join this school, and I was
overjoyed to be accepted. The size of the buildings and grounds was overwhelming, acres and acres of
playing fields, a cinder running track, Fives courts, main building, parade ground, science block, gym,
shooting range, music room and on and on.582
Alan Eaglen (Tn 1939-44) was swayed by Alleyn’s reputation but, possibly of more relevance to an
11-year old, he chose Alleyn’s because he wanted ‘to play football and cricket. I didn’t want to play
rugby; I’d played football since I was six.’ Mr Coleman chose Alleyn’s over St Dunstan's and Dulwich
College because it was ‘the soccer school.’583
Ron Smale (B 1940-46), who had had a chequered
educational history because of the war,
entered what was then the emergency school in September 1940, having returned from evacuation
with Rathfern Road Junior School to Liskeard, Cornwall, on passing my scholarship. Although offered a
place at Liskeard Grammar, I chose to return to war-torn London to pursue my education in Dulwich.
581
Barnes, p96 582
Barnes, p97 583
Chandler, SLESS, p18
138
The reason was sound as it was simple in my logic – Alleyn’s played football and in my sport-crazed
mind that was the number one priority….
Another AOB who had a disrupted education because of the war was Alan Jackson (C 1945-51). He
explained:
the loss of our house and the move to another address necessitated me changing schools at a
supposedly critical stage just in the final year before the commencement of secondary education.
Gaining a place at Alleyn’s as the result of a scholarship gave me a wonderful opportunity to benefit
from the discipline and a variety of tutors for a different extended range of subjects.
Most boys based lived in fairly close proximity to the School. The HMIs noted that ‘Forty-one out-
county boys attend the School but the majority are drawn from the 14 districts in London, much the
largest number coming from the Boroughs of Camberwell, Lambeth and Lewisham.’584
Eric Buisson (C 1941-49) lived in Honor Oak Park and came to school by bicycle. Mr Barnes too came
to school by bike – but not after a struggle to persuade his mother. They lived in a flat in Thurlow
Park Road and,
As the crow flies, the school was just over a mile from where we lived, but to get there by bus was a
long, complicated journey with two changes of bus, and though the train journey from Tulse Hill to
North Dulwich was quick, there was a long walk with a satchel full of books at the other end. It took a
little time to convince my mother that I was a competent enough cyclist to avoid being killed by the
mass of traffic... So one Saturday afternoon... she took me up to Norwood Road to Day's cycle shop
and there we purchased a fine red, racing-style, real grown-up new bicycle for £5, complete with
saddle-bag, pump and puncture outfit, going half each in the purchase price, my share coming from
my Post Office account, into which my LCC grant was paid. Boy was I proud.585
The main thrust behind RA Butler’s Education Act of 1944 had been to provide universal secondary
education for all. Whilst we are looking at the notion of class and privilege at Alleyn’s at this time, it
is worth briefing looking at the findings of a pioneering survey – albeit the survey post-dates this
decade (just). In 1951 Hilde Himmelweit, a German social psychologist, looked into how the Act was
playing out in socio-economic practice. Her sample included more than 700 13- to 14-year-old boys
at grammar and secondary-modern schools in four different districts of Greater London.
In the four grammars, she found that whereas ‘the number of children from upper working-class
homes’ had ‘increased considerably’ since 1944, ‘children from lower working-class homes, despite
their numerical superiority in the population as a whole, continued to be seriously under-
represented’ – constituting ‘only 15 per cent of the grammar school as against 42 per cent of the
modern school sample.’ In those grammars, the middle class as a whole took on average 48 per cent
of the places and the working class as a whole 52 per cent (more than two-thirds by the upper
working-class)….
Whilst the middle class were taking proportionately (in terms of the country’s overall population)
more than its fair share of places at grammar schools, Himmelweit found that the middle class boys
also ‘consistently outperformed the working-class boys academically.’ Her survey showed too that
584
HMIs’ report, p2 585
Barnes, pp97-98
139
In the teacher’s view, the middle-class boy, taken all round, proves a more satisfactory and rewarding
pupil. He appears to be better mannered, more industrious, more mature and even more popular
with the other boys than his working class co-pupil.586
Before we descend too far into a parody of the Cleese/Barker/Corbett class-sketch from The Frost
Report, it is a relief to find that Himmelweit sensibly didn’t draw any major conclusions with a survey
which – amongst other things, gauged boys’ ‘popularity’. However, it was clear that much work still
needed to be done to achieve the utopian view of a class-less education.
Mr Barnes, who described himself as ‘a poor child at a posh school’, gave an interesting insight into
the social manoeuvrings going on at Townley Road; at Alleyn’s he instinctively felt
a desire to improve and develop not only our minds, but our beings. We needed to talk posh, to act
posh, to become superior like the Sir Johns [Maitlands] of this world. We had, in short, to pretend to
be what we were not, middle-class and fairly well-off... Social-climbing, they called it, to become one
of the leaders, not the led.... in the middle of the last century, it was grimly serious. You would not get
on unless you had a BBC accent and could dress the part.587
Mr Barnes recalled, in spite of the post-war New World Order being built at the time, part of the
School still clung to the old style Empire-building glory days of pre-war years at Alleyn’s.
At speech days, the visiting dignitaries giving out prizes never failed to tell us that we had great
responsibilities as we were the future leaders of the nation. The ethos of Dr Thomas Arnold's Rugby
School was still strong in all public schools; their purpose was to produce upstanding Christian
gentlemen for whom serving King and country was the mainspring of their lives; they fought hard but
fair; they were compassionate in victory and steadfast in defeat, honest decent men.588
This is apparent even as late as 1947 when the Bishop of Southwark, acknowledging that ‘the School
was entering into the swing of this vast new scheme for the whole country,’ said that Alleyn’s carried
the classical and academic tradition, into a new world, [the Bishop of Southwark] would like to
emphasise the importance of two great principles, continuity and community. Everything changed
and had changed, yet it was still the same school as Edward Alleyn founded over 300 years ago for his
twelve poor scholars... He thought the continuing reality was the community – this fellowship of
people living and working together. A school was one of the finest types of community which could
exist, for it possessed the three things he considered essential to the good community: an object
outside its own existence, something which transcended the community life itself; a hierarchy of
definite grades where there is room for continual lifting, something to look up to, a just and kindly
discipline, and opportunities for the development of leadership and initiative; and, thirdly, the
safeguarding of the right values for the human race.
As if steadying his charger at the Battle of Agincourt, the bishop went on:
'There is nothing' continued the Bishop, 'of greater importance for the future of the human race than
the values which the average Englishmen is bearing in his soul at the present moment. One
justification for the old school tie is that it stands for the long existence of a community which has
been faithfully maintaining values which we can acquire better in that community life than anywhere
586
Kynaston, pp575-76 587
Barnes, pp111-12 588
Ibid, p97
140
else.... With the greatest sincerity I think you have every reason to be grateful for a school which has
carried on all this time, and is able to meet the changes of this modern world. Carry to that world
whatever is best in the values which this community has maintained until now.589
Arnold’s days at Alleyn’s were numbered.
589
EAM, October 1947, p379
141
Post-war Alleyn’s: let us face the future
‘…defeating the Germans remained the major source of pride of the whole nation in the difficult days
that followed the war, which saw us lose our Empire and decline as a great world industrial and
commercial nation.’ Roy Barnes, Twenty-Five Years On: One Boy’s Growing Up, p103
Change in the days after the war was inevitable on all fronts. The two groups of Alleyn’s pupils were
reunited in March 1945 and, after VE Day, began the process of reacclimatising to peacetime and
reconstructing for a new world order. History master Robert Young, returning from the Forces
wrote:
It was a tremendous relief still to be alive, and to be able to extend one's planning beyond the next
half-hour, and to begin to make one's own decisions about how to spend time, or, indeed, what to
wear!590
Surprisingly little was said specifically by our guests about the victory in Europe or Japan. However,
Ian Smith (R 1942-49) showed me his school journal where he had proudly blocked out 6 May as VE
Day, marking it – and the day after – as a holiday. For VJ Day, 15 August, 1945, the magazine
recorded the boys celebrations on a Harvest Camp in Frant:
The high spot of our stay came during the V-J Holidays (on which we worked). On the first night the
school livened up a local bonfire, singing to the inspired accompaniment of Mr Jack Lanchbery on the
piano. The second evening the camp was invited to take part in the celebrations at Frant.591
Young painted a gloomy and shabby picture of post-war London:
....the like of which could scarcely be recognised now – bombed buildings, cobbled streets furrowed
with tram lines, peeling shopfronts, the all-pervading stink of deep-fat frying of fish and chips, the
moan of electric trams grinding to a halt on Champion Hill and Lordship Lane.592
The boys – and some of the staff – sensed the change ahead. Dr Norman Wetherick (B, 1941-48)
wrote that:
Among the senior boys there was much heated political argument, particularly after the end of the
war (1945), the General Election (also 1945) and the foundation of the United Nations (1946). With
hindsight it is difficult to credit how widely it was held that the war had been between more and less
acceptable versions of capitalism and that the future lay with socialism – with the USSR being in the
vanguard.
Roy Barnes (Bn 1942-49) described the attitudes of the staff to the post-war world.
All these older masters, many of whom had seen military service in the First World War and at least
one of them in the Boer War, were born in the previous century, had grown up at the height of
Victoria's reign, believed Britain was the greatest, the fairest, the best-governed and strongest
country the world had ever seen, all of this achieved by hard work and iron discipline. We didn't
realise we were at the very end of an epoch which had begun to fade at the turn of the century and
was now, after the Second World War, crumbling fast. In 1945 we were bankrupt and within a few
590
Young, p193 591
EAM, November 1945, p213 592
Young, p205
142
short years the Empire would be gone. There were teachers on the staff who knew the old England
was finished and some who even welcomed it.593
Economic hardship
In the Inspectors’ report of May 1950, an appendix notes that £5,474 had been spent on repairs to
war damage 'so far'594
. Money was tight; Young explained that
the Edward Alleyn Estate, although it owned 900 acres of south London, had lost much to middle
men, and then to war damage. Derelict houses, a bombed picture gallery, alms houses, Dulwich
College and Alleyn's School were all expenses, and Alleyn's came very low on the list…. Whether it
was in heating, or in supply of books, or in games equipment, the same problems cropped up – we
were existing on a shoe-string!’595
Hudson, the Acting Headmaster following Allison’s move to Brentwood School, ‘could get no money
out of the governors’596
. John Cleary (B 1945-51) remembered,
it was very much a period of austerity after the war because rationing existed in part up until ’53…. As
regards to the School after the war, some of our textbooks were stuck together with bits and pieces
and very often you’d get half-way through the text book and say ‘Sir, I have got pages missing, sir’.
Rationing and shortages
Even though war ended, rationing continued to ensure there was enough food to feed a war-torn
Europe. Dr Wetherick wrote about rationing:
As for food, 1946-48 was the period when rationing was at its most severe (worse than during the
war, bread was never rationed then). Lease-lend stopped on the day the war ended (1945) and
America ceased to worry about feeding us until 1948 (the Marshall Plan…).
The peacetime-rationing of bread was imposed on 27 June 1946 and was to become a symbolic sore
for British citizens ground down by years of war-time suffering. With victory there came no fruits of
bounty. Christopher Isherwood, close friend to English master Edward Upward, wrote at the time
The rationing cards and coupons that still had to be presented for almost everything from eggs to
minute pieces of scraggy Argentine meat, from petrol to bed-linen and ‘economy’ suits, seemed far
more squalid and unjust than during the war.
Closer to home, the Alleyn Old Boy Club was deprived of reuniting its war-flung members at its
Annual Dinner – an event which had been suspended during the war – announcing its decision in
block capitals:
IN VIEW OF THE FOOD SITUATION IT HAS BEEN DECIDED NOT TO HOLD THE ANNUAL DINNER IN
1946.597
Mr Cleary explained the effect of rationing:
593
Barnes, p107 594
HMIs’ report, 1950, p22 595
Young, p210 596
Ibid, p213 597
EAM, November 1946, p297
143
It was very difficult because you had ration books with coupons for various things. Most
manufactured items, such as clothes, furniture, etc, bore a utility mark which was C…. You could not
do what is normal now, they were in many ways hard times.
In 1950 the inspectors noted ‘There also appears to be some restriction in the use of exercise books
owing to difficulties of supply’598
. Clothes and sports kit were still being donated by Old Boys years
after the war ended and thank-you notes for these donations appear regularly in the magazine –
‘…[Fives] Balls and gloves will again unfortunately be very scarce. Several pairs of gloves have been
forwarded by OBs and Parents – we are most grateful – and we wish to renew our appeal to those
who have ceased playing to let us have their gloves.’ To this, the writer briskly added: ‘All players are
asked to be most careful and economical in the use of balls, for lost balls are almost impossible to
replace.’599
Derek Smith (R 1947-53) described the communal approach to PE: ‘I remember how in
the gym they had a stack of plimsolls and you just put on two plimsolls that fit your feet.’
Fuel too was rationed. John Williams (R 1943-49) shivered at the memory of the ‘Tin-Tab’ in winter:
‘it could be cold in this building and fires were only allowed on very cold days, because of coal
rationing.’ The combination of rationing, shortages and a lack of money meant, in Robert Young’s
words,
The whole School was being run economically. For instance, the main buildings were still heated by
coal fires… Lit at 8.30 in the morning, they could not be stoked up after 11.30, as the fires had to be
out by 3.30, or the cleaners would go on strike, and as Hudson was keen on explaining, it was easy
enough to get new teachers, but impossible to get new cleaners! When I pointed out to him that the
temperature in one class-room was 36 degrees fahrenheit only two rows from the fire, he suggested
we did physical jerks! We were already doing those. When I asked what he thought our local MP
would say if he knew, he replied 'Don't let him know, or they will close the School down!'600
Winter of 1947
I dread to think what the Tin Tab was like during the winter of 1947: the winter which, more than
the German V1s and V2s, almost brought the country to its knees. John Holt (S 1945-51), writing as
Michael King, described the winter in Dulwich:
January 23rd 1947 saw the start of the worst winter of the century, a thaw not setting in until March
15th. We were often late for School, because the tram tracks and points would freeze up and we had
to walk to school from Forest Hill in the bitter weather. We would arrive at School so frozen that Miss
Wiggs would allow us to stand round the large coke-burning stove in the classroom, until we were
sufficiently thawed-out to commence work.601
The magazine reported that there ‘were many days when snow lay deep on the quadrangle and the
School buildings were chill and inhospitable’602
. The Roper’s House report said
598
HMIs’ report, 1950, p14 599
EAM, November 1949, p617 600
Young, p198 601
King, p75 602
EAM, June 1947, p356
144
The noble pastime of snowballing was the only form of exercise indulged in by the House during the
early part of term…. Owing to the severity of the weather there was little running in preparation for
the steeplechase – a calamity which evoked few tears from many members of the House.603
In the magazine’s review of Terence Rattingan’s ‘While the Sun Shines’, you sense even the ever-
upbeat editors’ default-cheeriness ebbing, remarking ‘To transport an audience chilled and dispirited
by fuel cuts and a blizzard to the comfort… of “Chambers in the Albany on a fine day in June” was a
task to daunt even tried professional actors…’604
The bad weather meant that transport ground to a halt and coal supplies couldn’t reach the power
stations. And so, to make a miserable situation even worse, power cuts were enforced. You can
almost hear Robert Young’s despairing at the memory of how, at Alleyn’s
We were keeping the pre-war timetable of six days a week but in the austerity winter of 1947, when
Shinwell as Minister of Power was tackling the backlog of repairs to pre-war power stations against
the background of the coldest winter since 1929, we had power-cuts to cope with, and even had to do
a dress rehearsal by candle-light.605
War damage
As well as trying to keep the buildings, if not warm, at least bearable under several layers of utility
clothes, Hudson had to repair and maintain the fabric of the School site. In 1949, the magazine
reported – as if with fingers crossed behind their backs – on the progress of the repair to the Fives
courts: ‘War damage repairs to all the Courts are now well under way, and it is hoped that further
deterioration due to weathering will not occur’606
. The inspectors in 1950 tersely decreed that ‘The
buildings are generally in need of redecoration…’607
and said, probably reasonably, of the
laboratories that ‘after 50 years of use, and some damage during the war, the laboratories are in
urgent need of redecoration and some repairs.’608
Hudson’s problem wasn’t just a lack of money to finance these repairs. Building materials were
scarce. After the bombs had rained over Britain during the war, there was an immediate need for
one million homes to be built609
. As well as obliterating people’s homes, the bombs made many
homes structurally unsafe. South London suffered disproportionately and many masters returning
from fighting were unable to find anywhere to live and there are reports of masters abandoning
their posts for want of digs. On Speech Day in 1948, Hudson said that ‘The difficulties of housing
603
Ibid, June 1947, p343 604
Ibid, June 1947, p356 605
Young, p199 606
EAM, November 1949, p617 607
HMIs’ report, 1950, p3 608
Ibid, p15 609
In its July 1945 issue, the EAM proudly reported that John Scott Galbraith, ‘who left the School in
December, 1905, has recently been elected President of the London Master Builders’ Association for the
current year. Mr Galbraith… comes to this important position at a time when the eyes of almost the entire
country are focused upon the industry he represents and when it is faced with problems of unprecedented
gravity. During his year of office much of the spade work will have to be done in planning the colossal task of
rebuilding London, and it is a matter, not only of interest, but of honour to the School, that at such a time this
important position should be held by one of our own boys.’ (pp187-88)
145
have robbed us of some of our most valuable masters…’610
. One master, Mr TA Ratcliffe, ‘was forced
by the housing situation to find a post elsewhere.’611
Young ranted:
George Hudson and the Governors seemed to have no inkling of their obligation to see their assistant
masters reasonably housed. He was singularly unhelpful for eight out of the nine years [when he was
in unsatisfactory digs], and when I inquired if I could camp out in the clothing store at school, he failed
to take the hint... 'Don't do that, it would alter the rateable value of the school!'. This was no way for
the head of a good public school to behave. He might have been a Head 'Teacher!' By not tackling the
problem of accommodation for staff the governors and headmaster lost an ex-naval lieutenant, who
was a wizard at maths and bowled in cricket up to county standard, simply because he could find
nowhere to live.612
A lack of staff was also a challenge to Hudson, a situation which reflected the country’s dire
manpower shortage. Alan Jackson (C 1945-51) recalled: ‘I don’t think we realized the difficulties that
the staff faced. Many of them were returning from the services, and there seemed to be some
difficulty for the head attracting the right staff’. This was backed up by a comment in the magazine:
It has been impossible, owing to superior conditions offered in industry and elsewhere, to find a
Science Master to replace Mr Meerendonk permanently.613
Memorial
In addition to holding various memorial services throughout this decade, after the war had ended
Alleyn’s wished to make a permanent memorial for those 130 AOBs who had died in service. Alleyn’s
did this in two ways: by adding panels to the war memorial installed after the First World War, and
by building a Garden of Remembrance on the triangle of ground at the junction of Townley Road and
Calton Avenue where the RAF Barrage Balloon site had been during the war.
In 1947 a War Memorial Fund was set up to raise money for these. Donors’ names were recorded in
the magazine. The panels – with 124 names inscribed – were unveiled on Founder’s Day, 18 June
1949.
Chandler wrote that
The garden was designed and created by Mr VK ‘Daddy’ Haslam, a master from 1927 until 1955.
Gardening and weeding had been Mr Haslam’s holiday and spare time occupation for himself and
boys while at Rossall but now he was able to devote a life’s experience into turning a rough, useless
corner of the Townley Field into a beautiful and inspiring Memorial to the Old Boys as well as a
pleasant sight to all who pass by.614
The magazine also recorded that RGD Vernon, MBE, ARIBA, AOB, future architect-surveyor to the
Dulwich Estate and benefactor to the School
has agreed to supervise the work on the Memorial Garden and has very kindly requested that any
fees be returned to the credit of the Fund. The abnormally dry Autumn prevented the planting of
610
EAM, November 1948, p475 611
Ibid, p462 612
Young, p201 613
EAM, February 1948, p402 614
Chandler, p87
146
shrubs and this will now have to wait until later. Mr Vernon is in touch with contractors for the paving
of the paths and the Garden Sub-Committee is arranging the purchase and planting of shrubs and
flowers.615
Let us face the future
From the safety of Townley Road, our boys observed the post-war world around them, and looked
forwards. The Labour Party had trounced Churchill’s party at the polls with utopian promises
outlined in its election manifesto, Let us face the future. In it, the Labour Party
demanded a decisive action by the state to ensure full employment, the nationalisation of several key
industries, an urgent housing programme, the creation of a new national health service and (in a nod
to Beveridge) ‘social provision against rainy days’.616
The electorate agreed and so began a great burst of post-war legislation: the National Health Service
Act, the Family Allowance Act, the National Insurance Act, the National Assistance Act, the
nationalisation of the Bank of England, civil aviation, the railways, the coal, gas, electricity, iron and
steel industries: all by 1949.
Visitors came to give lectures at the school, the boys went on visits and attended conferences. In
1947, a party of masters and boys visited Parliament, perceptively noting ‘the central lobby, where…
the Government really governs.’617
A year later our intrepid pupils visited Betteshanger Colliery in
Kent where they descend 2,160 feet into the mine in a cage and see ‘a great black glistening seam of
[coal].’
The heat was uncomfortable to say the least, and… one marvels at the amount of coal miners do
produce in such energy-dissipating conditions…. The pneumatic drills the men use to cut the coal
weigh 45lbs. No wonder after all their heavy work the miners have special rations.618
For Frank Halford (R 1942-49) this outing to Betteshanger Collier was his only school trip; he
remembered going ‘2,400 feet down to reach the coal-workings.’ The Fifty Club heard a Mr Douglas
Turner give a lecture on China:
Mr Turner gave us a vivid picture of his work with the Friends’ Ambulance Unit succouring the victims
of flood, famine and cholera. He was bombarded with questions on the political situation and we
gathered from his answers that the so-called Communists of China were the only party which held out
any hope for the peasant. He considered the Nationalist Party to be the refuge of the old evils of
Chinese feudalism.619
There is a series of ‘most interesting talks in the Upper Sixth Current Affairs periods’ given by AOBs
in 1948. Mr AJ Brunt, ‘a member of the staff of the Foreign Secretary… spoke to us on his recent
experiences in Moscow…. It was refreshing to hear revealing facts from an eye witness rather than
unsubstantiated theories from a propagandist.’ Major Bromfield, ‘a former Governor of Haifa Jail,
615
EAM, February 1950, p2; there may have been an ulterior motive – albeit secondary to Alleyn’s very real
wish to remember its war dead; Robert Young described a battle the School had with the LCC to requisition
some of Alleyn’s land in order to build a new school – see p154 for details. 616
Kynaston, p21 617
EAM, October 1947, p395 618
Ibid, November 1948, p496 619
Ibid, February 1948, p417
147
gave an illuminating analysis of the Palestine Problem. He explained the situation in terms of the
past insincerity of Power Politics and the desperate emotionalism of the present protagonists.’ And
finally Colonel Taylor, ‘a member of the Control Commission, gave us a well illustrated, graphic and
first hand account of the administrative difficulties of dealing with our German ex-enemies and what
might be termed the psychological ones of co-operating with our Russian ex-allies.’620
Mr Barnes remembered one boy’s (ultimately) futile attempt in 1947 at setting up a German
penfriends’ exchange using his father’s contacts in Germany.
Five of us accepted, but the Daily Express got wind of this idea. Was it right for our boys to be writing
to these people? Wasn't the youth of Germany all imbued with the principles and morality of the
Hitler Youth? The Headmaster had to explain, publicly, that it was not an official school arrangement,
but to avoid scandal he forbade us to proceed with the idea. 621
One pupil-led initiative that was approved was the School’s membership to the rather wordily titled
South East London Inter-Schools Discussion Group. The purpose of the group was ‘to promote
intelligent interest in current affairs’ – although I much prefer the then chair of the group Brian
Goddard’s (Bn 1943-48) description: ‘it provides an enormous clothes’ line for the hanging out to air
of everyone’s pet theories, prejudices and grudges’. The group was formed by a dozen boys’ and
girls’ schools, public, secondary, county and grammar (with the bold proposal to invite ‘certain
Modern Schools of the SE London area’). The group was affiliated to the Council for Education in
World Citizenship622
(whose holiday conferences the pupils attended in 1949). It is interesting to see
that, in addition to ‘airing out pet theories’, two other purposes are admitted:
social contact with boys and girls of different education and outlook, not only broadens one’s
sympathies; it can do much to eradicate that bookish awkwardness which too often characterises
youths of more academic upbringing; and last but not least, by giving us a sense of proportion, it
instils in us a more understanding and hence more real veneration for our own system of education at
Alleyn’s. 623
As we will see, this was a very uncertain time for Alleyn’s; its very survival was under threat (see
chapter ‘Education crisis at Alleyn’s’). At Speech Day in 1946 Hudson refers to the casualties of war
and rhetorically asks his audience: ‘How can we repay our debt to these men?’
The answer is, I think, by making certain that the ideals for which they died are achieved. These are,
to make decent men and women, and to make it possible for them to live in safety and freedom.
Good men are made by good food, exercise and fresh air, good homes and good schools. To achieve
this we need a system of education which exercises, trains and develops the whole nature of man. I
believe that the English public school system, including that side of it which has evolved into the great
day grammar schools of the country, can do this, provided the schools keep abreast of the times.624
[My italics] Henderson’s baton of Alleyn’s as public school has been passed on through his
successors but here the baton is slightly trimmed. In this speech Hudson acknowledged the value of
‘good homes’ for making good men and women – quite contrary to Henderson’s view that all waking
620
Ibid, June 1948, pp432-33 621
Barnes, p103 622
CEWC founded in 1939 623
EAM, June 1948, pp451-53 624
Ibid, November 1946, p281
148
hours of boys belong to the School – and is fitting with Hudson’s introduction in 1949 of Parents’ At
Home evenings where parents could meet their sons’ Housemaster to discuss their sons’ progress.
Here Hudson also demonstrated that he was conscious of a changing wind and that schools would
have to tack and glide according to its direction.
Bit by bit, flashes of the old order returned. The Annual Dinner returned on the AOBC’s social
calendar for the first time since 1938 and a correspondence started amongst Old Boys debating a
change to the Club’s colours (they weren’t)625
.
But there was another battle ahead: parents, staff and Old Boys joined forces against the combined
might of the School’s governors and the London County Council to save Alleyn’s School. It wasn’t to
be settled until 1957.
625
Ibid, June 1947, p359 and October 1947, p395
149
Education crisis at Alleyn’s
‘Not only were we very lucky to come to the School, but we were very lucky it was still there as there
was talk at the time that due to the Education Act of ’44 it would be sold to the LCC or demolished.
And it wasn’t until the late ‘40s/early ‘50s that they eventually made up their minds to keep it.’ John
Cleary (B 1945-51). 626
An Alleyn’s education
In his first assembly back at Alleyn’s after returning with the School from Rossall, Headmaster CR
Allison spelt out what he saw as an Alleyn’s education. The Alleyn’s tradition:
1) Aims at educating the whole boy to be the balanced and useful man.
2) Seeks to let him grow up as a member of a community.627
He elaborated further in a write-up of a meeting held on 6 June 1945 between parents and Old Boys
to discuss the educational crisis before them. Allison declared that Alleyn’s provided a
a. Liberal education with pupils drawn from all classes thus bringing the best of each together
to their mutual advantage.
b. The special attention paid to character, tradition and additional cultural subjects.
Education Act, 1944
A bill which is at one and the same time a masterpiece of compromise and an inspiring embodiment
of educational advance.628
The landslide victory for Labour in the 1945 election brought in a raft of drastic social and economic
reforms which swept away the old order and promised to create a New Britain. Winterbottom
commented that
Where the public schools were to stand in the post-war world was not at all clear, and elation at
victory…. was mingled with no little apprehension among many of the British middle classes that
summer.629
Educational reform had already been sealed with the passing of RA Butler’s Education Act in 1944.
The act provided universal secondary education to all and instituted the 11+ exam and the tripartite
division of children into grammar, technical schools and secondary modern schools. It made
secondary education free to all pupils.
In the same issue which announced the European victory, the editors blithely added in their
introduction:
626
Professor Donald Leinster-Mckay (D, 1943-50) has written an excellent and detailed account of the crisis
which faced Alleyn’s in his monograph Alleyn’s and Rossall Schools: The Second World War, Experience and
Status. I can admit only to adding a few further brush-strokes from other quarters which I have found in my
research for this report. What follows is, I hope, a broadbrush account of events for readers who may not be
familiar with the sword of Damocles which hung over Alleyn’s for almost 15 years. 627
CR Allison, papers concerned with the return to Dulwich, these are taken from the notes he made for the
school’s Opening Assembly, on 30 April 1945 628
The Times, 17 December 1943, p5 629
Winterbottom, p118
150
We are just at the beginning of a new era in education, with the coming into force of the Education
Act of 1945 [sic]. For the first time there are no fees at Alleyn’s School, otherwise we are hoping that
there will be very little change in the working and administration of the School. The Governors
decided not to apply for ‘Direct Grant’ status, so we shall probably remain an Aided School, with the
financial support of the London County Council behind us.630
Proposals to change Alleyn’s
Allison was aware of the educational changes to come and warned his audience at his Speech Day
address in 1943631
. The Norwood Report of 1943 (looking into curriculum and examinations in
secondary schools) and the Fleming Report of 1944 (which considered ‘means whereby the
association between the Public Schools ... and the general education system of the country could be
developed and extended’) were two signs showing that the education rule book was being revised in
consideration of what a post-world order might look like. At this time, the Times Educational
Supplement claimed that the government accepted two key principles in educational reform:
That there shall be equality of opportunity, and diversity of provision without impairment of the social
unity.632
Warrior-like Allison declared ‘the School to be in the mood to welcome fearlessly most of the
changes foreshadowed in recent education proposals.’633
In an annotation to his papers about this
time Allison wrote:
I spent my last term as Headmaster fighting the Governors for the continuing independence of
Alleyn’s as a member of the College of God’s Gift. Fortunately the AOBs and parents strongly
supported the status quo.
Suspiciously – at least to my eyes – at about this time
It was brought to our notice that much of the school grounds were not plotted on the Borough
Surveyor’s Map… We therefore consented to put this right. We started with admirable intentions, but
soon the delights and adaptability of the plane table deterred us from our original object…. The dense
undergrowth behind the stables brought forth mysteries of the jungle comparable only to twopenny
‘bloods’ and fourpenny thrillers.
When last seen, the surveying party was split in two, the first half endeavouring to produce some
results, the other taking photos, with a plane table, of a noble explorer crossing a single trunk over a
raging torrent, in reality a nettle-bed.
630
EAM, July 1945, p166 631
It is possible that the Dulwich Foundation Schools were tipped off even earlier – or at least kept usefully
informed – about the forthcoming education reform by one of their chairman of governors, Herwald
Ramsbotham (later Lord Soulbury) who was President of the Board of Education from 1940-41. ‘In October
1940 Ramsbotham met with senior officers of the Board at its temporary office in the Branksome Dene Hotel
at Bournemouth. Interrupted by the occasional air raid, they discussed the educational measures which would
be needed to achieve the prime minister's ideal of “establishing a state of society where the advantages and
privileges which hitherto have been enjoyed only by the few, shall be far more widely shared by the men and
youth of the nation as a whole”.’ (Education in England: a brief history, Derek Gillard:
www.educationengland.org.uk/history). 632
Harold Dent, TES, quoted in Kynaston, p28 633
EAM, November 1943, p60; here Allison was referring to the White Paper on Education and the Norwood
Report. Lord Soulbury was presiding at this Speech Day having been made a governor in 1942.
151
In spite of the many hazards, some of the party returned, their files and drawing boards lavishly
decorated with data and detail of every description. Soon we hope to see the results of these
pioneers. Their success falls into the hands of the excellent cartographers. We await the results.634
I wonder if this has anything to do with the LCC’s plans, either in the short-term or longer term, for
acquiring the Alleyn’s site?
Returning to the gauntlet-shaking Allison: his staff, the Old Boys and parents stood behind him and
fought the threat. At the meeting on 9 June 1945 to discuss the crisis a ballot was taken:
• In favour of a Direct Grant School 105
• In favour of a Direct Grant School or alternatively of an
Aided School 43
• In favour of an Aided School 151
• In favour of a County School 5
• Total 304
The gauntlets and cudgels were raised. At this same meeting, the Headmaster of the Lower School,
Albert Spring made an impassioned speech. It was breathlessly reported in the magazine:
….he expressed the extreme anger he felt. He had been a member of the School staff for 36 years and
had had a long association with the Old Boys’ Club and to see the fine traditions of the School that
had been built up during the 60 years of its separate existence and during which it had attained Public
School status shattered in this summary fashion was unbelievable.
No consideration or courtesy, he continued, had been shown by the Governors to the Headmaster
and the staff or to the Old Boys’ Club in coming to this grave decision. He urged that the strongest
possible measures should be taken to force the Governors into the open and state their reasons for
coming to this decision…635
Robert Young described how former Headmaster RB Henderson was aghast at the situation writing
that ‘[RBH] regarded the Governors as assassins intent on murdering his child!’636
One AOB, Mr FA
Mayne (who had left the School in 1879 and was a past President of the AOBC) wrote:
Under the New Act, the Governors propose to throw the School, to which we owe so much,
practically into the arms of the LCC as an ordinary secondary school.
It is, as I am sure you will agree, Sir, time that Dulwich and the lovers of Alleyn’s bounty, once again
aroused themselves to fight for their rights.
Where is the ‘equal opportunity’ so much belauded, when the College for the well-to-do is reaping all
the benefits accruing from the pious Foundation of Edward Alleyn, while the School for the less well-
to-do is deprived of those benefits, and is now to be reduced in status, as must indubitably happen if
the proposed course is followed.
At present, a poor boy can enter Alleyn’s from an elementary school, and from Alleyn’s proceed direct
to a University. What more can be desired?637
634
EAM, November 1945, p215 635
Ibid, July 1945, p187 636
Young, p195
152
In an act of utter recklessness – on, it has to be said, all sides – the key players on the platform on
Speech Day in 1945 were Allison, the governors, and, as the School’s principal guest, the Rt Hon the
Chairman of the LCC, Charles Robertson. The atmosphere must have been electric. None of the
warriors let slip this opportunity to put forward their case. In a memorable phrase, Professor
Leinster-Mackay wrote of Allison’s speech that ‘The Admirable Crichton came to the fore’. Allison
ended his speech with the request that
I may receive an invitation to the Alleyn’s School Speech Day in 1955. I hope and believe that I shall
find it still an integral part of the Foundation, working in harmony with, not under, the LCC, in its great
educational enterprise for this city, and continuing to fulfil the true intent of its Founder, as it has
done now for three hundred and twenty-six years.638
Inevitably, the ‘Headmaster’s Report was received with loud and prolonged applause.’
This was to be Allison’s swansong as Headmaster; he had accepted the position of Headmaster at
Brentwood School. The Chairman of the London County Council then took to the podium piously
urging ‘that good sense and calm judgment would maintain the same happy relations that had
existed since 1902.’ He was blunt about the LCC’s problem:
The new Act of 1944 imposes on the Local Education Authority a tremendous job in the provision of
buildings and staff, in order to provide secondary education for all.
He continued in a diplomatic vein, holding out a loaded olive branch to the assembled audience,
although perhaps deliberately ignoring the School’s Founder’s original philanthropic intent:
Alleyn’s has a great record and a noble tradition. It has done its work well along the years. Is it not
perhaps the business of the School to see that these opportunities are shared by all young people? In
a wider sphere, we look to the older Secondary Schools for much good will towards the new-comers
to their ranks.
Mr Robertson reminded his audience of the changing world and Britain’s diminishing role in it:
This calls for the greatest possible co-operation between nations, and one of the functions of a
secondary school to-day is to train boys so that they can play their part worthily in that great work.
As a parting shot over the barricade, he described how he had just returned from Paris, ‘as [one of]
the honoured guests’ of the Conseil Municipal de Paris and the Conseil Général de la Seine, to attend
the celebration of ‘the 14 juillet, the first celebration of their national festival since the German
occupation five years ago’. Pulling down his Phrygrian cap and tightening his (sans-) culottes, he
menacingly explained:
I mention this just to emphasise the importance of co-operation and understanding. That co-
operation must be continuous if our civilisation is to grow and flourish, otherwise we shall fail
ignominiously and YOUR culture will go down in ruins with the rest.’639
Sidney Hudson was appointed Acting Headmaster and he ably took up Allison’s gauntlet (or 18th
-
century musket) in the fight for Alleyn’s survival. A reign of terror was avoided and a year later
637
EAM, July 1945, p187 638
Ibid, November 1945, p204 639
Ibid, p205
153
Hudson was able to announce at Speech Day that ‘I welcome the decision not to change our
voluntary status. We are to remain Alleyn’s School, a part of the great foundation of the College of
God’s Gift, founded by Edward Alleyn more than three hundred years ago.’640
In 1947 Hudson, now firmly in place as Headmaster, used Speech Day to defend the grammar school
against the accusation that ‘it is too much out of touch with real life’.
Alleyn’s is a Grammar School in the new meaning of the word. Our entry is selective, and depends
only on the ability of the child to benefit by our type of schooling. Our job is to train the
administrators, the scientists, men for the professions and commerce – in fact leaders.
As an aside, it is interesting that there is no mention of universities here. But we digress:
…We put work first, but we are not only a teaching shop, the other things matter also, in fact we try
to give the boy the best of both worlds.
Sounding like Henderson, Hudson explained:
He has his games, his clubs, his music, his training corps and a very strong House tradition…
and here not sounding like Henderson at all:
he also has his home…. We hope, therefore, that we shall continue to turn out men who know how to
work and at the same time keep in touch with the rapidly changing conditions of the modern world:
men who by their balanced lives and by their service to God and their fellow men will prove that we
still fulfil the good intent of our Founder.641
An interim status
Alleyn’s was not included on the 1945 Direct Grant List and so entered a period of limbo for several
years. Professor Leinster-Mackay explained:
Its specific designation was ‘Transitionally Assisted School’ which was defined by Truman and
Knightly, one of the annually published vademecums of the independent school world, as
‘schools administered by a Governing Body whose final status, under the Education Act,
1944, has not yet been determined by the Minister of Education and are in receipt of
assistance from a Local Education Authority for the time being. No tuition fees are payable…’
It was in fact the one and only school in this category in 1957.642
During this limbo, Alleyn’s came under attack for what was seen to be wilful stubbornness in the
face of the educational reforms of the time – not least by the HMIs.
The reputation of the School has long been deservedly high and it is but natural that the Head Master
and the Staff should have set themselves the task of rebuilding as quickly as possible the School as it
had existed before the outbreak of the war. Admirable as this aim was and is, however, the Head
Master and Staff must take cognisance of certain changes in the nature of the School and of the new
640
Ibid, November 1946, p281 641
Ibid, October 1947, p378 642
DLM, p36
154
opportunities for educational development created by the conditions governing the award of the
General Certificate of Education.643
And it seems that the LCC wouldn’t let go of its ambition to acquire part of the Alleyn’s site on which
to build a state school. Chandler recorded that ‘the wits of the day had already named it “Townley
Road Secondary”.’644
The magazine reported that ‘it was no secret that the LCC was in favour of
Multilateral [comprehensive] Schools of up to 2,000 boys’645
and it was still on the look-out for a
suitable site. Young described an apparent near-miss for Alleyn’s – and perhaps another reason for
siting the Memorial Garden where it is today: the LCC
having been prevented from buying Alleyn's, prepared a scheme to build a school on our grounds to
deal with those boys not able to handle a grammar school course - roughly described as ‘secondary
modern’. The policy of the LCC infuriated us all. We were sweating our guts out to see that every boy
in the school got plenty of exercise every day, and the LCC was ruling that no school in their authority
should have any playing fields, but that all the children should be transported once a week out to
Grove Park in buses. Nor were these schools ever to work on Saturdays. Now they were going to try
and force us into the pattern. We struggled like hell. We were a Naboth's Vineyard to the Ahab of the
LCC! We dug a War-Memorial Garden and got it dedicated by a Bishop. This was on the corner of
Townley Road and Calton Avenue, exactly where the LCC planned their school after compulsory
purchase. Our Governors then offered another site, down Green Lane. The resulting school was
named 'William Penn' school646
.... It was a vastly different doctrine of education that was being
practised almost on our doorstep, and a narrow escape for us. Our playing field was saved, and boys
lucky enough to gain admission to Alleyn's might not have much money spent on them, but would at
least have plenty of time.647
In 1957, some 13 years after Butler’s Education Act, the Direct Grant List was re-opened and Alleyn’s
was one of 14 (out of 44) schools which applied for, and was granted, ‘direct grant’ status. Hudson’s
valete some twenty years on from this decade concluded that,
Perhaps the greatest achievement of the school under Mr Hudson was the award of Direct Grant
Status. There had been dark days in 1944 and 1945 when it had seemed that Alleyn’s might belong to
the Foundation in nothing more than name, and the school was indeed fortunate to be one of the few
schools to be selected when the Direct Grant List re-opened.648
643
HMIs’ report, 1950, p21 644
Chandler, p96 645
EAM, July 1945, p186 646
The William Penn Secondary School for Boys was formed in 1947; its buildings opened in 1958. 647
Young, pp209-10; I have not been able to date this event but think it safe to assume that it occurred at this
same time. 648
EAM, November 1963, p76
155
Distinguished boys and visitors
‘I never made the mistake one of the senior masters, 'Polly' Hutt, made. Whenever a distinguished
Old Boy revisited the school he used to button-hole them and remind them who had got them
through Maths in Matric. I knew that much that was produced by the School was in spite of the
masters, rather than because of them!’ Robert Young, Before I Forget, pp93-94
The post-School progress of Alleyn Old Boys had been recorded in the Edward Alleyn Magazine for
years. However, during the war-time paper shortages, much of which was reported in the magazine
was distilled to the bare minimum. Only a dribble of news about AOB-career achievements
percolates through – such as Lt Col AH Pollock, MC, of the Indian Army who was awarded an OBE
‘for services in campaign in Libya’ and Harold Bishop (B 13-16) who was awarded a CBE and was the
Assistant Chief Engineer to the BBC as well as Chairman of the Wireless Section of the Institution of
Wireless Engineers649
. In 1944 the magazine reported that Lt BGH Rowley served on the staff of the
British Admiralty Delegation at Washington DC, USA.650
The stories these three Alleyn’s men alone
could have told would provide a valuable insight into what was going on behind the scenes in these
war years.
We asked our AOB guests about who they remember from Alleyn’s who went on to greater things.
There was quite a roll call; the artists, actors and musicians: Jack Lanchbery (R 1934-42), David
Palastanga, Alan Younger (Bn 1943-51); the sportsmen: Sir Henry Cotton (B 1918-23), Vic Elford (B
1946-53), the Rt Hon Lord Terence Higgins (D 1941-46), Dr Harold Moody (T 1928-34)– not to
mention our own AOB-guest, cricketing legend Micky Stewart (T 1944-51).
As well as relying on our AOBs for their memories of famous men, the magazine reveals a number of
gems, some of which may have been forgotten in the passage of time.
Alleyn Old Boys
Robert Young recalled a hat-trick of Alleyn’s bishops. He wrote:
Godliness cannot be measured. We did collect three bishops among our old boys – Bishop Simpson of
Southwark, Bishop Bradley of Bath and Wells, and Archbishop Blanch of York; but how far any of the
three can be claimed as credits for the School is seriously to be doubted. Archbishop Blanch
announced that he had left Alleyn's an agnostic!651
Alleyn’s too produced a clutch of politicians who served both locally and nationally. WG Boys (1899-
1905) was the MP for Brixton and Leader of the Labour Party at Westminster City Council. In 1947 he
was appointed a member of the Town Planning Committee of the LCC and a member of the National
Council and National Executive Committee of the Town and Country Planning Association.652
JF
Cullingham (T 1917-22) was re-elected to Camberwell Borough Council.653
Let’s hope he fought
Alleyn’s side in the battle to acquire Alleyn’s status as a direct grant school.
649
EAM, March 1942, pp500-01 650
Ibid, March 1944, p74 651
Young, p206 652
EAM, June 1947, p339 653
Ibid, November 1948, p546
156
Sporting giants
The Rt Hon Lord Higgins was frequently mentioned by our AOBs – though more for his fame as a
middle-distance runner rather than as an MP and government minister. Dr Norman Wetherick (B,
1941-48) wrote: ‘There were eminent sportsmen among us. Terence Langley-Higgins was a 49-
second quarter-miler (later an MP)’. Alan Jackson (C 1945-51) listed Lord Higgins’s Olympic
appearances:
He ran in the ‘48 and ’52 Olympics and was eventually a Conservative MP for Worthing. I think he had
one of the largest majorities in the country…
Mr Jackson added, with barely concealed hurt, ‘he confiscated my tennis ball and I never got it back.’
Lord Higgins came to School to coach the boys in running. Another eminent AOB-sportsman who
coached the boys was Dr Harold Moody (T 1928-34). In 1948 Dr Moody ‘represented Britain in
Putting the Weight at the Olympic Games’.654
John Holt (S 1945-51) remembered him:
He always wore a track suit with the words ‘Great Britain’ on the back. He was a massive man, who I
think must have weighed about 20-stone. I noticed that he never took his tracksuit off and I think he
must have lived abroad for a lot of the time, because I read in one of the national newspapers that he
had said that he even kept his tracksuit on when he was competing in Great Britain as it was, in his
view, never warm enough in this country to take it off.655
Gerry Goodrich (D 1944-49), another Alleyn’s athletic giant, said he owed his success to Dr Moody:
‘Personally, I do not think I could have aspired to international status in the long jump, without the
influence of the good doctor.’ He sent me a detailed letter with his memories of Dr Moody.
In the spring of 1948, the master at Alleyn’s responsible for athletics, Bob Young, considered that two
of his most promising field events athletes, namely Cedric Taylor (Brown’s, 1943-50) and myself,
would benefit from superior coaching. He contacted Dr Harold EA Moody, a former pupil at Alleyn’s in
pre-war days…. He was now a respected international athlete and an expert in shot putting and later
in the mysteries of the discus. Harold was only too pleased to assist the two aspiring youngsters.
About this time, both Cedric and I were self-taught and Cedric could reach about 37 feet (11.28m)
whilst I had recorded about 34 feet (10.36m) bearing in mind that I weighed a shade over 10 stones.
Within a relatively short period, Harold had enabled his pupils to improve to 42 feet (12.8m) and 39
feet (11.89m) respectively. It was then that Harold introduced us to the intricacies of the discus and
we became quite adept in that event too….
In the summer of 1949, with Harold’s continued expertise in the throwing events, he had produced
two of the best junior discus throwers in the country. The London-based Evening News reported, prior
to the Public Schools Athletics’ Championships, that two pupils from Alleyn’s School had thrown the
discus in excess of the Public Schools’ Championship record. I cannot remember how Cedric
performed in the shot, but he gained the silver medal in the discus after a Titanic struggle with Mark
Pharoah of Manchester Grammar School, who later became the senior record holder and an Olympic
finalist. Cedric also set new records for Alleyn’s in both shot and discus. By this time I realised that at
10 stones I was too light for the throwing events. At the same Public School sports, I gained three
qualifying medals for the shot, discus and… the long jump. I had improved to 44 feet (13.54m) in the
shot and 140 feet (43.89m) in the discus whereas Cedric’s figures were 47 feet (14.34m) and 160 feet
654
Ibid, November 1948, p462 655
King, p85
157
(48.77m) respectively. I recall that Harold advised me to drop the throwing events in favour of the
long jump. As they say, ‘the rest is history’.
As well as coaching the boys in shot and discus, it seemed that Dr Moody also threw his weight
behind getting tickets for the London Olympics. Dr Wetherick reported:
We were coached by HEA Moody who had been a shot putter but gave it up because of a back injury.
He could however still throw a discus and was determined to get into the New Zealand Olympic team.
Through him, I think, those of us who wanted [to] (including me) got tickets for the 1948 Olympics.
Mr Jackson told us that Dr Moody ‘competed in the 1948 Olympics but did not get beyond the
qualifying stages. However, he gained a silver medal at the British Empire Games in 1950. During the
late ‘40s he was often at the school coaching budding athletes with an interest in field events.’ Derek
Smith (R 1947-53) remembered being coached by Dr Moody ‘when [I was] training as a young
“grasshopper”, [I] couldn’t lift the weight [put] on to my shoulder, let alone throw the damn thing!’
There was one aspect of Dr Moody’s life which was hardly mentioned by our AOBs: the fact that his
family was key in campaigning for equal rights for black people in Britain. Dr Moody’s father, Harold
Arundel Moody, a GP in Peckham, founded the League of Coloured People in 1930, which aimed to
fight discrimination and seek better opportunities and conditions for students and workers from
Africa and the West Indies in Britain. During the war, Dr Moody Snr successfully lobbied against
racial prejudice in the armed forces. Three of his six children came to Alleyn’s – Harold, Charles (T
1929-34) and Garth (T 1934-40). Both Charles and Garth went on to receive military commissions, a
permanent right (rather than temporary as proposed by the government) for black people which
their father had campaigned for.
The other sporting AOB mentioned by our AOBS was Sir Henry Cotton (B 1918-23). One of the
greatest golf players of his generation, Cotton won the British Open in 1934, 1937 and 1948. John
Williams (R 1943-49) reckoned that Cotton
was probably the world’s greatest, first professional golfer…. And do you know how he came about
[playing golf]? In the early ‘20s, he was playing cricket for the 1st XI against Brentwood School in
Essex, and in those days, there was a school cricket bag, and two boys were delegated to carrying it
and on the way back he refused! So the Headmaster called him into the study the next day and said,
‘Cotton, for doing that, and refusing to carry the cricket bag, you’re banned for the rest of the season
playing cricket’… so he never ever played cricket again and he took up golf, and that’s what happened
– he was one of the most famous golfers this school’s ever had.
Young reported that Henderson thought the game of golf ‘useless because it failed to inculcate the
team spirit, and furthermore wasn't worth playing because you were unlikely to risk death playing
it!’656
.
Mr Jackson remembered Sir Henry visiting Alleyn’s. He ‘arrived in a chauffeur-driven Rolls-Royce
marking the success of a former rebel at Alleyn’s! He gave an interesting presentation of his success
as a golfer together with a film showing him winning the Open Golf Championship. Following the
film, he sought out a prefect to carry his golf bag out onto the playing fields and displayed his skills
656
Young, p91
158
with many remarkable shots.’ At our reunion Mr Jackson reminisced with John Hughes (C 1945-51)
about Sir Henry’s visit:
Mr Hughes: He gave a golf demonstration.
Mr Jackson: Oh yes, then he asked for the cricket captain and he wouldn’t let [leading school
cricketer] John Pretlove use his clubs because he was left-handed. So he hit golf
balls across Big Side, showing us how to cut and draw round a site screen nearly 200
yards distance.
Mr Hughes: He hit the ball as far left handed as he did with both hands! This illustrated how
good he was.
From within the cohort of 1940s’ AOBs who went on to greater sporting triumphs, our AOBs
mentioned long jumper Reg Waller (S 1938-46), the aforementioned athlete Gerry Goodrich, and
cross-country runner Mike Maynard (R 1943-49). Mr Jackson remembered that Reg Waller ‘won the
Public Schools long jump event which I believe was at the Motspur Park Athletics Stadium in 1946
when Lord Higgins was the winner of the 440 yards event.’ Micky Stewart regaled our AOB-guests
and pupil-interviewers with:
A story about this guy [Reg Waller]. He was also leader of the school orchestra, wasn’t he? I
remember the first year back, whatever the production was, and it was going to be rehearsal time,
just when Puff Smith used to have his rehearsals…. And Reg was not there, and there were two
rehearsals: there was going to be an important performance. Anyway, I was there, I was a soprano….
and Puff Smith said to [Reg], ‘Where were you?’ [Reg] said, ‘football training’ – I think we were going
to play Brentwood or something, a big game. He said ‘Football training?’Reg says, ‘Yes, there’s extra
football training,’ but, Smith said, ‘It’s rehearsal for music’, but Reg said, ‘It’s my choice’. Puff Smith
said, ‘Do you mean to say, that you would prefer kicking a piece of senseless cowhide over a bit of
green grass?’ And Reg said, ‘I prefer that to drawing horse hair over cat gut, yes’. That was his reply!
Peter Wrench (C 1945-49) said that,
we had another excellent sportsman who was a contemporary of ours too – Gerry Goodrich. He
represented England at athletics five times I think. He was a contemporary of Roger Bannister and
Terry/Pongo the Lord Higgins. Gerry’s father famously worked with Logie Baird657
on the development
of television and later with the French on the development of RADAR.
Mr Goodrich and Lord Higgins met up in later life. Mr Reeve told the story:
Gerry was working for Lloyds Registrars who recorded all share dealings. It is now managed by an
outfit called Capita, down in Worthing, but Gerry was a section head down there and Terry, as the
local MP, came to visit and look around the premises. Anyway, Higgins’s nickname was Pongo. Gerry
looked up from his desk and yelled ‘Pongo!’ Gerry got very and truly reprimanded by the registrar
who was down there who said, ‘how dare you address the Lord Higgins like that?’ You know [Gerry]
said ’we were in athletics together and running mates in more than one sense.’
One sporting giant who has already been mentioned by Mr Jackson was the left-handed John
Pretlove (C 1944-51). Mr Pretlove was a skilled cricketer and Fives player; Dr Wetherick admiringly
657
John Logie Baird, inventor and pioneer of television, lived and worked at 3 Crescent Wood Road SE26 for 12
years, from 1934-46.
159
wrote that ‘…watching [John Pretlove play Fives] was an aesthetic experience, he made it look so
easy.’
The young face that frequently appears alongside Mr Pretlove’s (equally young) face in group photos
of the 1st
XI cricket team was that of Micky Stewart OBE, former England cricketer and coach. His skill
was noted approvingly by the magazine cricket reporters. He was ‘a Captain who, himself an
outstanding boy batsman, has a very sound knowledge of the game for his age; a successful left-arm
bowler; and a really adequate wicket-keeper.’658
The reporter ‘GRC’ got down to details:
Playing for his third season in the team and his first season as Captain, he quickly showed not only
that his own cricket was improving fast, but that he had a very sound practical knowledge of
captaincy. He successfully transmitted his own keenness and initiative to the rest of his side and was
soon rewarded by their determined support. His batting against Brentwood, the Jesters and Eltham
College was brilliant and was never less than good. The side had no keener or better fielder. He
thoroughly deserves his selection for the Young Amateurs of Surrey for the second year.659
Mr Jackson also listed Vic Elford as a leading AOB-sportsman. He was a ‘former sportscar racing,
rallying and Formula One driver. He participated in 13 World Championship F1 Grands Prix, débuting
on 7 July 1968’.
One sporting achievement of this decade which went uncommented on by our AOBs – but which
was clocked by the magazine was ‘Captain BG Carr, DFC (Bn 1923-32), the pilot of the BOAC
speedbird, “Balmoral”, which on March 16th, crossed the North Atlantic in the fast time of 8hrs. 36
mins. Leaving Montreal at 3.30am, he overflew Gander (Newfoundland) and flew direct to Prestwick,
where he landed at 12,60pm [sic]’.660
Artists
Brian Savory (Bn 1938-45) remembered a young Leslie [‘Ben’] Fyson playing ‘Guiseppe Palmieri in
the Gondoliers, singing “Take a pair of sparkling eyes”. Ben was leading tenor in all our choral works
and gained a choral scholarship to Cambridge. He went on to a professional career in singing and
opera. The other leading light musically of this time was the irrepressible Jack Lanchbery. Mr Savory
wrote that:
There were so many talented musicians in the School at that time. Best known, of course, was John
(‘Jack’) Lanchbery. Composer, arranger and conductor as well as instrumentalist, especially as a viola
player. He was incredibly versatile and also very kind and considerate to incompetent players like me.
On one memorable Sunday evening he conducted the first performance of ‘Before Daybreak’ by
Armstrong Gibbs in the presence of the composer. It received a rare standing ovation.
Peter Philpott (B 1934-43) mentioned ‘the other more informal stage productions at Rossall, in
particular, the extremely irreverent shows put together by Jack Lanchbery, each one more
outrageous than the one before until finally, one called “Allison’s Angels” was seriously censored by
CRA [Allison] before it was allowed to take the stage – as “Allison’s Fallen Angels!”.’ Mr Savory
remembered that
658
EAM, November 1949, p607 659
Ibid, p610 660
Ibid, June 1948 p432
160
Jack Lanchbery, [was] always so kind and patient with keen, but hopeless musicians like me. At an
upper School Easter holiday in Ambleside, Jack and Ben [Fyson] took Peter Lyons and myself on a
‘walk’. We trudged to Keswick and, on the way back, climbed Helvellyn and negotiated Striding Edge –
a total of 34 miles in pouring rain. Jack continually kept our spirits up with a fund of jokes and stories
and making us sing songs… backwards!661
Mr Jackson wrote that
As a child [Lanchbery] studied the violin and began composing at eight. In 1942 he was awarded the
Henry Smart Composition Scholarship to the Royal Academy of Music (where he studied under Sir
Henry Wood), although the following year his studies were interrupted by war and he served in the
Royal Armoured Corps until 1945. After the war Lanchbery spent two more years at the Royal
Academy before returning to Alleyn’s, where he took a post as the second music master. He was
hoping to be offered the position of head of music, but the job did not materialise, so he left to work
for a music publisher. It was while he was there that he heard, by chance, that the Metropolitan Ballet
was looking for a new conductor. In 1948, having, as he later admitted, only ever conducted a school
orchestra, he took on his first professional conducting post….
And finally this wry anecdote about Lanchbery from Mr Jackson :
In London during the 1970s [Jack] ran into an old school friend who had been appointed Obituaries
Editor of the Daily Telegraph. ‘Don’t worry, Jack,’ his friend told him, ‘you’ll definitely be getting one.’
‘I’d much rather write a short requiem for you,’ came Lanchbery’s reply.
To read more about Lanchbery, please see the chapter on music.
Ken Napper (D 1945-50) was another Alleyn’s music star. He was a highly regarded musician at
school and then made a name for himself in the jazz world as well as succeeding as a composer and
arranger. Mr Jackson kindly found out some more information about Napper and told me that after
Napper’s demobilization he
worked with Jack Parnell, after which he freelanced extensively through the 1950s with the top
names of British modern jazz including Ronnie Scott, Don Rendell, Alan Clare, Stan Tracey, Tubby
Hayes, Tony Kinsey and Tony Crombie. From March 1960 to January 1962 he was with the Ronnie
Scott - Jimmy Deuchar Quintet. Susequently with Johnny Dankworth and Ted Heath in 1965. After this
he again worked with Dankworth (1967) and Stan Tracey (1966). Through the 1960s he also worked
successfully as arranger and composer writing for films, television and radio. In the early 1970s he
worked in Germany and Holland as composer and arranger.
This decade pre-dates the advent of the National Youth Theatre and its crop of young actors. David
Palastanga went ‘on to have quite a reasonable career in film and television industries,’ said Mr
Hughes. ‘He married Hildegard Neff [a German actress], who was quite a big film star in her day.’
With the stage name David Cameron, he appeared in films alongside Elizabeth Taylor and
Montgomery Clift.
Medics and scientists
One of our AOBs helped cure Winston Churchill’s pneumonia. You can sense the pride bursting in
the magazine reporter’s account:
661
Edward Alleyn Club Magazine, May 2004, p16
161
The recent illness of the PM has drawn universal attention to the wonderful results obtained from the
drug sulphapyridine in the treatment of pneumonia. It must be a source of pride to us that the
discoverer of this drug is Dr Ewens, FRS, an Old Boy of the School. Dr Ewens, working on derivatives of
sulphanilamide, a drug which, although it cured some bacteriological diseaseas, failed in many others,
discovered this new drug which proved successful, not only in the cases where the first drug had
succeeded, but also in many of those in which it failed. Pneumonia, which up to then had a mortality
of 30 per cent, lost nearly all its terror. The experiment was Dr Ewens 693rd and was made in May
and Baker’s Laboratory. He labelled it therefore ‘M&B 693’, the name by which it is best known to the
public. It was on the account of this discovery that Dr Ewens received the great honour of election to
the Royal Society.662
Ewens had been one of the first Junior County Scholars to receive a London County Council
scholarship back in September 1894.
FG Young (B 16-26) MA, DSc, PhD, FRIC, a biochemist noted for his work on diabetes, was also
elected to the Royal Society. In 1949 he was appointed to the Sir William Dunn Professor of
Biochemistry663
at the University of Cambridge. The magazine reported that he had also been
appointed a ‘consultant to the USA Army Surgeon-General, 1949 & 1950’664
. He was knighted for his
services to biochemistry in 1976.
War honours
After the war, in addition to news of AOBs career successes in the far-reaches of the world, there
was a catch-up session on what our AOBs had been doing for the past six years.
They had been busy. Here are a few:
AAM Durrant, MI Tech E (R 1908-16) was the Director of Tank Design, Ministry of Supply. Durrant
went on to lead the design group behind the London Routemaster bus (1947-56) – adopting several
design features of the tanks that he’d developed during the war.
VE Groom, CB, OBE, DFC and bar (Bn 1910-13)m a ‘flying ace of the First World War’, was awarded a
CB and promoted to Air Vice-Marshal (becoming an Air Marshal in 1952); he had been a significant
player in air-operations to support Operation Overlord665
.
Details of RV Jones’s (D 1922-29) awards were fed to the magazine bit by bit. First a CBE in the New
Year’s Honours list of 1942; and a CB in New Year Honours of 1946 for ‘Distinguished Service as
Assistant Director of Intelligence, Air Ministry. It is worth quoting part of Arthur Chandler’s obituary
for Professor Jones – some 52 years after these awards – to discover just how vital one AOB’s role
was in securing the Allies’ victory.
662
EAM, March 1944, pp75-76 663
The Sir William Dunn Professorship of Biochemistry is the senior professorship in biochemistry at the
University of Cambridge. The position was established in 1914 by the trustees of the will of Sir William Dunn,
banker, merchant and philanthropist. 664
EAM, February 1950, p3 665
Operation Overlord was the Allies re-invasion of German-occupied France during the Second World War.
The operation commenced on 6 June 1944 with the Normandy landings (D-Day). A 12,000-plane airborne
assault preceded an amphibious assault involving almost 7,000 vessels. Nearly 160,000 troops crossed the
English Channel on 6 June; more than 3 million troops were in France by the end of August.
162
…Mr Coates, then Senior Master, wrote on Jones’s last report ‘Erratic and mercurial. Seems unable to
get down to solid work. Has ability.’ The last short sentence was an understatement. He won the
Smith’s prize for Physics in 1929 and a Natural Science Exhibition to Wadham College, Oxford. In 1946
he became Professor of Natural Philosophy at the University of Aberdeen where he still held court at
the time of his death.
Winston Churchill said that RV Jones was ‘the man who bent the bloody beams’ but his part in the
winning of the last war was not really known until 35 years after his efforts had been effective.666
His
invention threw the German bombers off their course by bending their directional beam – bombs
meant for the City of London, Westminster and St Paul’s were dropped on South East London which
mean that the Blitz caused less damage than had been intended by the enemy. He also managed to
decode German messages through the Enigma machine at Bletchley Park using the first computer in
the world.667
Bill Jones (R 1935-42) told me that Professor Jones, in his book Most Secret War, pays credit to
physics master Sidney Incledon ‘for guiding him and helping towards an Open Exhibition at Wadham
College in 1929 leading to his graduation in 1932 and doctorate in 1934.’668
Governors
Founder’s Day and especially Speech Day were occasions when Alleyn’s showcased its eminent
visitors. At this time, the School’s governors were responsible not just for Alleyn’s but for all three
Schools in the Foundation, as well as the alms houses, the Chapel of God’s Gift, and the picture
gallery. The lords leap on to the podium for Speech Days. They were interesting men.
One of the first to appear on the podium in this decade is Lord Soulbury, Herwald Ramsbotham. As
Professor Leinster-Mackay rightly observed:
It is a matter of great irony that Herwald Ramsbotham who as President of the Board of Education
(1940-1) prepared the Green Book ‘Education After the War’, which preceded the White Paper, which
in turn preceded the [1944] Act, and the beginnings of Alleyn’s post-war problems, should later
become Lord Soulbury, Chairman of Alleyn’s governors.
He was succeeded at the Board of Education by RA Butler in July 1941. Lord Soulbury was appointed
a co-optative governor (in place of Lord Loch) at a Special Meeting of the College Governors on 28
September 1942 and elected Chairman of the Board of Governors at the same meeting. It seems a
speedy promotion….
In 1944 the magazine reports that ‘Mr CG Ammon, MP, a Governor of the School, has been raised to
the peerage under the title of Lord Ammon of Camberwell.’669
Lord Ammon670
was a Labour MP and
666
This delay was because of the Official Secrets Act. 667
Obituary in EAC Magazine, May 1998, pp10-11 668
See also chapter, ‘After Alleyn’s. 669
EAM, May 1944, p95 670
Lord Ammon worked with the Post Office for 24 years. He was Secretary of the Union of Post Office
Workers from 1920 to 1928, the first General Secretary of the National Union of Docks, Wharves and Shipping
Staffs, and the Organising Secretary of the Civil Service Union. Ammon was London County Councillor for North
Camberwell from 1919-1925 and 1934-1946, and Chairman of London County Council in 1941-1942. He was an
Alderman on Camberwell Borough Council from 1934-1953 and Mayor of Camberwell, 1950-1951. Ammon
was (MP) for Camberwell North from 1922-1931 and 1935-1944, unsuccessfully contesting the seat in 1918
163
had been educated at Public Elementary schools. It would be intriguing to know where he stood on
the education crisis Alleyn’s faced in the mid-1940s.
Lord Soulbury’s tenure as chairman of the governors came to an end in 1949 (when he was made
Governor-General of Ceylon) and he was replaced by Lord Gorell. Ronald Gorell Barnes, the 3rd
Baron Gorell, was a British peer, Liberal politician and newspaper editor. He was said to be a model
for Lord Peter Wimsey in the books by Dorothy L. Sayers, who referred to him as 'Lord Sheep'671
.
Visitors
Throughout the decade, visitors came to all branches of Alleyn’s. In 1941, SLESS rather pitifully
reported:
Our roll of visitors is constantly growing and it is very gratifying to see how interested in our doings
are the fellows with the Forces – Army, Navy and Air-Force, Masters and boys, we welcome all and
with reluctance see them go.672
One surprising visitor to Alleyn’s during the war was Lord Grigg. At the time he was Secretary of
State for War and he was the School’s guest of honour on Speech Day in 1942. I have already
queried the wisdom of a Secretary of State for War attending such an event at a time [June 1942]
when the war-time show downs at Sevastapol and El-Alamein were brewing. Grigg held the position
of Secretary of State for War for the rest of the war, holding it also in Churchill's 1945 ‘Caretaker
Government’. He was a casualty in the 1945 general election and lost his seat.
Lords aside, the visitor our AOBs at Rossall all remembered was the footballing legend Stanley
Matthews. Mr Savory explained:
The RAF had a Physical Training Unit at Blackpool and one day their football team paid us a visit to
play a ‘friendly’ against our 1st XI. The visitors were captained by their PTI [Physical Training
Instructor] Sgt Stanley Matthews! The crowd around the pitch was virtually a roll-call of everyone at
Rossall and no-one was upset that the visitors won.
Mr Reeve told our interviewers that the match was set up by Mr Lefevre, ‘who was in charge of the
RAF section at school, he knew the CO in Blackpool. Of course, because Blackpool and that part of
the world was full of RAF, there were aerodromes everywhere, and they got this team come down,
and we had Stanley Matthews.’
and 1931. He was Labour Party whip in 1923 and a member of the National Executive Committee of the Labour
Party, 1921-1926. He served as Parliamentary Secretary to the Admiralty in 1924 and again in 1929-1931 and
was a member of the West African Mission of 1938-1939 and of the Select Committee on National
Expenditure, 1939-1944. He was temporary Chairman of Committees in 1943 and the same year served as
Chairman of a Parliamentary Commission to investigate the future of the dominion of Newfoundland. He was
raised to the peerage as Baron Ammon, of Camberwell in the County of Surrey, in 1944 and appointed a Privy
Counsellor in 1945. In the House of Lords he was Captain of the Gentlemen-at-Arms (Chief Whip) from 1945-
1949, and a Deputy Speaker of the House from 1945-1958. In 1947 he was Chairman of a Parliamentary
Mission to China. He was first Chairman of the National Dock Labour Board from 1944-1950. His political
career was effectively ended when he clashed with the government over the 1949 London dock strike. 671
He became co-president of the Detection Club with Agatha Christie from 1956 to 1963. 672
EAM, October 1941, p476
164
Gerry Thain (Tn 1938-44) enjoyed the memory: ‘I well remember that game – I watched it – quite a
crowd. When they heard Stanley Matthews was going to be there the crowd increased. Normally not
many went to watch. Stanley just wanted to play so he could train, so he could get back into it. We
lost something like 6-1 but our centre forward Holdstock scored soon after kick-off.’
Dr Philpott put pen to paper about this ‘most notable football match,’ when ‘the great Stanley
Matthews turned out for one of the many RAF teams we played from Blackpool (a major primary
training centre in the war). Since I was the left full-back I had a very busy and frustrating time trying
to cope with his wizardry!’
In addition to Stanley Matthews there was another famous footballer called Stevenson, of Everton,
who also played for Ireland, on the RAF Blackpool team. Mr Reeve still remembered the action
Dicky Lonsdale, a little chap – he was even smaller than me – had to mark Stanley Matthews…. And on
goes the match, and Stanley Matthews goes running down the wing, because he was a wonderful
dribbler, you know, he could go around anybody, and he would jink round – round poor old Dicky, put
the ball across the front of the penalty area, and in would come this guy, Stevenson from Everton and
Ireland, bang! As if luck would have it, the captain of football was a very good goalkeeper, and
unfortunately, he was either sick or got injured the week before, or whatever, so he was sitting on the
touchline watching the game, while the Second XI goalkeeper was keeping goal, and the Second XI
goalkeeper wasn’t anything like as good as the First one, and the ball hit this goalkeeper in the
stomach. And, of course, in those days the balls were so heavy and made of leather, and, well, I’ve
still got my mark from a leather lace, it carried him over the goal and into the net.
I wonder if the first goalkeeper might have been Roy Dann (D 1937-42), who bitterly told us
I’d been tripped by someone in one of those awful Houses like Brading’s or Cribb’s and broken my
wrist. So I had to sit and watch! It was my big regret at school.
165
After Alleyn’s
Unlike today, few of our AOBs went from Alleyn’s to university. Alan Jackson (C 1945-51) admitted
that the ‘the opportunity of going to university in the ‘40s and early ‘50s was fairly limited and a
pretty small percentage achieved such further education.’ In 1950, the HMIs reported ‘most of [the
boys] are going straight from School to work’673
although they totted up that ‘in the last three
complete school years’,
The majority of leavers enter business but in the same period 29 boys have gone to Universities, two
to Training Colleges and 17 have continued their education in various types of institutes. In the same
period two Open Scholarships have been won to Oxford, two to Cambridge, one Foundation
Scholarship to the Royal College of Music, and four State Scholarships.674
Peter Philpott (B 1934-43) was
awarded the Thomas Wall Scholarship to Brasenose College, Oxford and then had to struggle to re-
learn enough French and Latin to get through the Oxford Responsions675
exams. By this time, I
discovered I would not be allowed to read chemistry as I had intended but would have to read
physics, because of the wartime need for physicists. I therefore delayed taking up my scholarship until
after the war (in October 1946).
In the 1940s, most of our AOBs joined the Forces on leaving school – or, for our AOBs who left
Alleyn’s later in the decade they did National Service. Although the war ended in 1945, conscription
continued after the war.676
In lieu of conscription or National Service, from 1943 around 100,000 young men were directed into
the British coal mining industry to become 'Bevin Boys'. From December 1943 until 1948, a ballot
picked out 17-year-olds to serve the country down the mines, rather than in the Forces, causing
great resentment. In the end only 21,000 boys actually served in that manner.677
Gerry Thain (Tn
1938-44) was one of 21,000.
Bevin Boys
A brilliant languages student, Mr Thain wanted to be an interpreter when he left School but ‘I was
balloted to go in the coal mines’. Mr Thain notified the authorities that he had already been
accepted for a Services Japanese language course for interpreters. Ted Robinson (Tn 1938-41)
explained that this course was ‘much needed for the continuing Pacific theatre of war – and that,
even so, the one-in-seven ballot took precedence and he was so wastefully deployed digging out
coal!’ Mr Thain remembered that ‘four boys from my year were balloted [into the mines]…. Few
people can remember the title Bevin Boy! But I went anyway for three years.’ One of Mr Thain’s
673
HMIs’ report, 1950, p8 674
Ibid, 1950, p2 675
In effect an entrance exam for Oxford University, taken shortly after the students had matriculated. 676
National Service as peacetime conscription was formalised by the National Service Act 1948. From 1 January
1949, healthy males 17 to 21 years old were expected to serve in the Armed Forces for 18 months, and remain
on the reserve list for four years. 677
Marr, Making of Modern Britain, pp417-18
166
classmates, Stan Straw, went on the Services Japanese language course and, whilst Mr Thain678
‘was
down a pit in Wales,’ Mr Straw went to Japan and ‘organised a visit from Emperor Hirohito!’ Mr
Thain ‘found the miners very friendly and helpful…. The working underground was hard – I was sorry
for the poor pit ponies which only came up to the surface for a break if the summer weather was
good.’
The Forces
Many of our AOBs embarked on a career only to have to leave it to join up. It made for a disjointed
life. Eric Farley (Bn 1940-45) wrote in a letter,
One lost contact too after leaving School as we all had to join the Forces for several years and on
demob had to catch up those years with university and careers.
Bill Jones (R 1935-42) went ‘from school to Leicester on a Radio Physics Bursary and was
then 'called up' into the Ministry of Aircraft Production at TRE (later called the Royal Radar
Establishment) developing and test flying listening and radar jamming equipment.’ Mr Jones
remembered that his physics master, Sidney ‘Inky’ Incledon, asked him a lot of questions about his
work and that he seemed very knowledgeable.
It was only later that I found, from his book [Most Secret War], that [Prof] RV Jones679
lived in Dulwich
during the war years and I suspect that Inky had re-established contact with him and thus knew
enough to ask me the questions he did. Inky asked me if I could come to the school to talk on war-
time radar but, having signed the Official Secrets Act, I was bound by the 30-year rule so no talk took
place. The delay in publishing RV Jones’s book until 1978 was due to the same rule.
Alan Eaglen’s (Tn 1939-44) ‘skills in maths got me a job in the bank for a while, until I had to join the
army.’ Mr Eaglen had been helped in finding work by an AOB, Mr Collier, who was manager of
Midland Bank in East Dulwich. He had been ‘looking for a junior, so he asked Mr Rudd.’ He was
called up to join the army in June 1946 and Mr Eaglen became a lance corporal five days after
training as he was classified on entry as ‘potential officer’ material and had risen to the rank of
lieutenant in the Royal Army Ordnance Corps by July 1948. Alleyn’s being the small world it is, Mr
Eaglen bumped into AOBs Jack Hutchens and Roy Nash, who were both in his army unit.
AOBs clearly stuck together. Peter Wrench (C 1945-49) recounts that he and John Coleman (R 1944-
49)
joined the army together and I was obliged to salute him on Villach Station in Austria when I was then
still a sergeant but he a subaltern (he never forgets!)
Mr Wrench had an exciting time during his National Service: ‘I served in the Intelligence Corps in
Vienna (behind the Russian Iron Curtain) 1950-51 where I liaised with US intelligence and MI6
(running agents in and out of Czechoslavakia and Hungary).’ Others weren’t so lucky. For his National
Service, Peter Rodway (C 1942-50) spent ‘two years at Oswestry, which didn’t do me a bit of good. It
was a waste of two years.’ Derek Smith (R 1947-53), having served in Cyprus, then ended up (by
mistake) in Kenya towards the end of the Mau Mau troubles. He explained:
678
Mr Thain was later awarded an MBE for managing England’s swimming teams in at least three Olympics.
679 See chapter ‘Distinguished boys and visitors’
167
I volunteered to go to Kenya. You see they said it was RAF Eastleigh who wanted two volunteers. I
thought, well, that’s Southampton, I’m going home. But no, it was RAF, Eastleigh, Kenya.
Memories of National Service
John Hughes (C 1945-51) found that National Service
was a culture shock as much as anything. I don’t know how the others felt but certainly for me having
been quite senior within the school, you went more or less straight into square-bashing where you
were just a non-entity. It was a shock. It was quite hard. There was a strict discipline in square-bashing
which covered an eight-week period until you ‘passed out’ and were given a trade. You had to make
your bed up in a certain way with blankets and sheets in a square. It really was a great shock.
Derek Smith felt the ‘advantage of having been in the CCF. That way you knew how to keep your
uniform in order; keep your brasses clean, etc and the other lads in the billets didn’t have that
background. And some of them would end up in tears because the corporal would come in saying
“do this” or whatever.’ Mr Wrench remembered how ‘the others all marched with a right arm and a
right leg forward and the corporals would all be shouting “come on Daisy” at them.’
Mr Hughes remembered the food too.
There was a six foot tray full of fried eggs and the kitchen staff would need to cut it all up because it
was rock solid and all congealed! Outside there would be a trough with warm water for about 500
airmen where they washed their ‘irons’ (knife, fork, spoon and mug). No health and safety in those
days. It was just horrible. But I must say it’s the fittest I’ve ever been in my life after my eight weeks of
square-bashing.
Three AOBs died whilst on National Service: Roy Draper (C 1939-47), Geoffrey Carpenter (Tn 1939-
46) and Derek Coleman (Spurgeon’s).
Mr Williams claimed that ‘there’s no doubt the National Service matured us quickly, after two years
we were different people.’
Careers advice at Alleyn’s
Before the war, a panel of OBs was formed to advise boys leaving the School, on the choice of a
career. The Headmaster has suggested that the revival of this panel would be welcomed. Would OBs
who are willing to offer their services in regard to their own profession or occupation, please
communicate with VH Frank…. It should be mentioned that this panel is advisory only. No one will be
asked to offer employment, or to assist in obtaining employment for boys from Alleyn’s.680
None of our AOBs mention this panel specifically, but several remembered the chemistry master
Monty Crewe, who was also the careers master at Alleyn’s. Mr Rodway was not overly impressed
with the careers advice he received at Monty Crewe’s hand. ‘I had an idea that I wanted to be a
teacher but then my parents rather put me off because I wasn’t good enough to go to Oxford or
Cambridge,’ so went to visit Monty Crewe for some guidance.
He said, ‘well, Rodway, you’re planning to be a teacher?’ And I said ‘well, no, I’ve had second
thoughts,’ and that was the end of the story. He never thought ‘what is Rodway good at? Had I known
680
EAM, June 1948, p460
168
at the time, I would have loved to be an archivist – which I ended up doing for no money at all at
Alleyn’s School, some 50 years later: I did it for love. But I think I’d have made quite a good archivist
because it wasn’t computerized then – I’m hopeless on a computer. I’m sure I’d have enjoyed it.
Mr Jackson said ‘I had hardly encountered [Monty Crewe] during my time at Alleyn’s until my father
had correctly decided that pursuing further studies would be unwise!’ Mr Jackson and his cricketing
friend, John Hughes ‘were summoned for interviews with Monty Crewe’. They had been told by
fellow students about what to expect at the interview and
we had wrongly anticipated being handed literature from banks, Unilever, Shell and a few insurance
companies. To our surprise we learnt that Lloyd’s Register had enquired about employing two pupils
who were leaving school with some cricketing ability. John Hughes and I were duly interviewed by the
top person in Lloyd’s Register and the Hon Secretary of the cricket club and appointment offers were
made. We soon discovered that Lloyd’s Register had been employing pupils from Alleyn’s since 1883
and we were the latest part of the continuation of a long-standing policy interrupted since 1939.681
Poor Bruce Cox (Tn 1941-44) was advised by his teacher not to take his exams. ‘My teacher was
straight with me, saying that it was better to not sit an exam than to sit it and fail, which was what
he said I would do. So I joined the Ordnance Survey when I was 16, drawing up maps for the Army’s
advance across Europe.’ After leaving the Ordnance Survey Mr Cox then ‘joined the LCC and worked
there for a while, until,’ defying his teacher, ‘I passed my exam for the Institution of Engineers. From
then on I have worked across all of London.’
In 1949, details of the Public Schools’ Employment Bureau were given in the Alleyn Old Boy Club’s
pages of the magazine.682
This was
an independent organisation supported by the leading schools of the country. There are at present on
its books many more good business appointments vacant both at home and abroad, than there are
candidates to offer for them.
National Service was taken into account with positions being available to men aged between 20 to
22, ‘i.e. immediately on completion of National Service’. For those who may not have been
successful in exams, the listing reassuringly stated that, ‘a School Certificate or higher examination
success, though an advantage, is not insisted upon.’
681
Mr Jackson later furnished me with some other Lloyds Register/Alleyn’s gems: ‘the first appointment was
either CF Redman or FA Mayne in 1883 and from records it would seem that when John Davis (Tn 1948-53)
retired from Lloyd’s Register in 1995 it brought to an end this unusual record.’ No fewer than four former
employees of Lloyd’s Register have filled the position as President of the Alleyn Old Boys’ Club five times: FA
Mayne, 1901 & 1908; CF Redman, 1902; SA Hill, 1914; and JW Somerville, 1975. 682
EAM, May 1949, p585
169
Impressions of Alleyn’s today
‘I think the development of the School over the years is breath-taking. It has been 20 years plus since I
saw Alleyn’s…. What has been achieved is outstanding. The school governors over the past decades
deserve enormous credit for what they have achieved.’ John Hughes (C 1945-51)
Many of our AOB-visitors were amazed by how much had altered at Townley Road. That said, Alan
Thomas (SLESS, 1940-41) admitted that ‘it’s nice to be back and triggering memories, no matter how
much has changed’. Mr Thomas remembered what, ‘my form room looked like – it’s still there, I
recall where I sat: at the back.’ Our AOBs noted the ‘loss of the “Tin-Tab” and rifle range. How can
they take that away? The kids won’t be able to shoot a gun!’683
In a school of 1,200 pupils, that’s
probably no bad thing these days….
Derek Smith (R, 1947-53) explained what the ‘Tin-Tab’ was: ‘”Tab” being short for taberna – Latin for
“shed”. This building stood at the lower end of the playground, between the [present day] Edward
Alleyn Building and the old Fives courts. It was made of wood panelling with an outer covering of
corrugated iron on the walls and roof. It was heated by coke-fired stoves in each of the two
classrooms – Shell “C” and “D”. In the winter it was wise to have a desk close to the stove. The coke
compound was under the Great Hall at the top of the playground.’ It was finally removed in the mid-
1960s to make way for a new swimming pool and gymnasium.
John Cleary (B, 1945-51) described the 1940s’ layout of buildings:
After the Library and what was the Dining Room, there was the Junior School building for the Third
Form, then the armoury and orderly rooms, then immediately beyond that was the firing range. At
the backend of the firing range was a back-wall and behind that [where the current Junior School is]
was Jones & Higgins’ warehouse.684
Alan Eaglen (Tn 1939-44) concurred ‘the buildings have changed dramatically. There seems to be
more facilities, and of better quality.’ When pressed to find out how much Alleyn’s has changed,
Micky Stewart (T 1944-51) replied:
I just think generally, what is the term nowadays they use? Awesome. By comparison to what is here,
and meeting you and the way you come across, I have to admit, the way you deliver whatever you
want to deliver, I think it’s tremendous, I would say, on that score, it is far in advance of what it was in
my day. As far as the general education, developing people as people early on – [for example,] how
they are going to mingle, and be in general society as far as their future careers, now [it] is much
better.
Peter Rodway (C 1942-50) commented on the apparent changing nature of the pupils:
One, two, three, four, the four of you, who’ve taken us round the school and you seem to have so
much confidence. Now if I’d been asked with a group to take somebody around the school in 1949 it
683
Bruce Cox (Tn 1941-44) 684 John Hughes told us that Jones & Higgins was a large store in Peckham Rye.
170
would have been a disaster, I wouldn’t have known what to say, what to ask, you have far more
confidence and personality.
Mr Rodway also felt that pupils today ‘probably get a lot more guidance and you get far greater
opportunity because – as I think I said earlier – if you were academically good in the 1940s you went
to Oxford or Cambridge. Now there are so many universities that it covers two pages of Scriblerus
for Year 13 saying where they’ve gone. If it’s not Oxford or Cambridge, then it’s Birmingham or
Leeds, or wherever there’s a university.’
For Eric Buisson (C 1941-49), what impressed him ‘were the opportunities for extra-curricular
activities now.’ Gordon Feely (SLESS,1941-50) added ‘so much has changed, and it seems as though
it is easier to learn now.’ Frank Halford (R 1942-49) too was impressed:
You ask what we think about the school, I must say, I am proud of it, it’s very good, very good indeed.
It is quite fantastic. You are incredibly lucky to be here, I just hope you work jolly hard!
Bruce Cox (Tn 1941-44) commented on how ‘there seems to be a much more relaxed atmosphere
compared to when I was here. When the Headmaster was coming you would run and hide! Now, the
pupils greet and wave to him. It’s friendlier.’ But not all of Alleyn’s had improved according to our
AOB-visitors. Mr Stewart had a complaint:
I have one big moan that you only have 1½ hours of games, a week, and 1½ hours of PE in the total
time, and I think that is diabolical. Now, I am not talking just because my life was in sport, even if
somebody isn’t interested in it, it is so important in developing people, sport is tremendous in
developing a character, how you win, how you lose, how you compete, how you come back after
losing, and that is applied to life in General; so 1½ hours a week I think is rubbish!685
We asked what our AOBs remember most about their time at Alleyn’s. Mr Hughes replied, ‘I think
the friendship… I enjoyed sport a great deal. Of course we received a very good education. We were
fortunate it was a grammar school.’
One of our interviewers, Joseph Baker, asked a leading question: what advice would you give
yourself at our age? After initial silence and laughter from the group, Mr Hirst began, ‘you’ve got
great facilities here, and you’ve been here quite a few years now and I’m sure you’ve benefited from
all the help and facilities that you’ve got, and make the most of those facilities.’ Mr Rodway
counselled, ‘know what you want to do and go for it’.
After the reunion, Mr Hughes wrote in with some further thoughts which, I think, sum up perfectly
the feelings of his fellow AOBs about their Alleyn’s and the Alleyn’s of today:
Overall the Alleyn’s of 2011 has nearly everything, including a first-rate teaching and administrative
staff, together with students from reasonably financially secure backgrounds. A cocktail that produces
685
Sport at Alleyn’s is still taken very seriously today for the same benefits which Mr Stewart outlines. In actual
fact, the amount of sport played by pupils is two hours of compulsory PE (i.e. all sports) per pupil in the Lower
and Middle Schools. In addition to this, approximately two-thirds of each year group are involved in some form
of representative sport which adds a further 1 ½ hours to their weekly sporting activities. Alleyn’s also offers a
huge variety of non-sports activities, for example, the Duke of Edinburgh Award, CCF, dance clubs, gymnastics
clubs, which also contribute to team-building and the developing of character.
171
the fine school and happy environment I was happy to visit a few weeks ago and proud to be
associated with.
I think it is fair to say that the majority of those of us who attended the excellent reunion, despite the
many disadvantages of life in the late 1940s, had a happy time at school; the basis of a very good
education which stood us well in our careers.
172
Reflections on time spent at Alleyn’s
‘The ethos of the school also not only gave me a good education but provided me with the
opportunity to establish many long-standing friendships with pupils from all walks of life and for this I
am and always will be truly thankful.’ Derek Smith (R 1947-53)
Robert Young gave a vivid description of the boys in his care at Alleyn’s:
The continuous company of schoolboys of the ages 11 to 19 gave me insight into their mass
behaviour. They admired physical courage and energy, but objected to any self-valuation higher than
the facts suggested. They disliked hypocrisy or any form of showing off, and they expected other
boys, if endowed with brains, not to parade them. 'Oh, 'im, 'e's a big-'ead!' or '''e's a big Marf!' were
common judgements. Boys they bullied were boys who shrank from physical contacts, and didn't like
wrestling or punch-ups. Boys they teased were boys who affected to despise their contemporaries.686
John Merrill (R 1942-48) and Micky Stewart (T 1944-51) were both philosophical about their time at
Alleyn’s. Mr Merrill admitted,
I think if I was going to be a student now, I would have taken it seriously and I would have been an
academic. But as it was I was a waste of space. But I got round it, I got there in the end, because I
think I did have a good education at Alleyn’s, never mind that I didn’t pass anything.
Mr Stewart agreed: ‘I would say the same thing. I think that if I hadn’t come to Alleyn’s, I might not,
perhaps, have gone into the same field, but I would have developed into a different person,
especially with people.’ Rossall evacuee Brian Savory (Bn 1938-45) confessed ‘I was a mediocre
student, a poor sportsman and an inadequate musician but being a Rossalleynian was an immense
privilege which could not have happened except for evacuation and it has held me in good stead
ever since.’
Given that Mr Robinson was only at Alleyn’s for a short while, he was generous in his praise:
‘Although my time at Alleyn’s was cut short, due to extenuating circumstances of war and parents
moving home, I have remained grateful for the entire experience afforded me: it has stood me in
great stead throughout my career and wellbeing in life generally.’ Mr Derek Smith (R 1947-53)
explained that whilst ‘I did not attend Alleyn’s during the war years, my education there was
essential as it enabled me to “catch up” with other pupils who perhaps had not had such an erratic
education during the war.’ Jim French (R 1941-46) highlighted the teachers at Alleyn’s, writing, ‘I
retain a great affection for all my teachers. Our three children followed me to Alleyn’s and I was
impressed by all their teachers, as I am by the present staff. I am proud of Alleyn’s – and SLESS!’687
The theme of friendship ran through our AOBs’ memories. David Wallace (C 1941-46) admitted that
he felt ‘relief on leaving but formed life-long friendships’. Alan Jackson wrote:
To me the most important accomplishment or gain from the years spent at Alleyn’s was the number
of friends made for life and the experience allowed me to express myself with confidence.
686
Young, p217 687
Chandler, SLESS, p20
173
For some their appreciation of Alleyn’s came with hindsight. This was true for John Williams who
‘enjoyed school in retrospect…. My connections with the school have been strong, having attended
many dinners over the years. Initially at the Connaught Rooms in Holborn – evening dress, always!...
The schooling was great and led me in good stead through my life.’ John Holt (S 1945-51)
acknowledged in his book, The 1940s Revisited, that Alleyn’s ‘had been an excellent school, and I
shall always be grateful to my mother and father for sending me there.’688
Some expressed a debt of
gratitude: Eric Farley (Bn 1940-45) wrote separately to say ‘I am grateful for a sound education and
owe Alleyn’s a great deal.’
Peter Wrench (C 1945-49), I hope, speaks for all our pupils, both past and present:
All my amazing experiences in life and many great friendships are thanks to my fantastic time at dear
old Alleyn’s. May it endure forever! Although you may not meet fellow AOB friends for long intervals,
we are like brothers and it always seems like yesterday.
688
King, p79
174
Bibliography
Alexander, David Something of a Life, David Alexander, Blackheath, 2007
Barnes, Roy Twenty-Five Years On: One Boy’s Growing Up
Board of Education Report of Inspection of Alleyn’s School, Dulwich, Camberwell,
London, 1932
Jones, Colin & World War 2: What was it like Grandad? Bromley Probus Club, 2010
Topping, Dennis (Eds)
Chandler, Arthur R Alleyn’s The Coeducational School, Gresham Books, 1998
Chandler, Arthur R (Ed) South London Emergency School at Alleyn’s School, Dulwich, 1940-
45, produced on the occasion of a reunion, printed by The Heritage
Consultancy for Alleyn’s School, June 2000
Edward Alleyn Magazine, November 1939-February 1950
Gosden, PHJH Education in the Second World War, Methuen & Co, London, 1976
Green, Brian Around Dulwich, Village Books, Dulwich, 1989
King, Michael* The 1940s Revisited, Finial Publishing, Swanage, 2002
Kynaston, David Austerity Britain, 1945-51, Bloomsbury Publishing, 2007, London
Leinster-Mackay, Donald Alleyn’s and Rossall Schools: The Second World War, Experience and
Status, Tantalus Press, 2nd
Edition, 2006
London County Council Report by the Council’s Inspectors of a full inspection held on 14th
to
18th
March, 1938 at Alleyn’s School (Dulwich)
Longmate, Norman How we lived then: a history of everyday life during the Second
World War, Hutchinson & Co, Arrow Edition, 1973
Marr, Andrew A History of Modern Britain, Macmillan, London, 2007
Marr, Andrew The Making of Modern Britain: From Victoria to VE Day, Macmillan,
London, 2009
Miles, Susan (Ed) Drama & Music: The Performing Arts at Alleyn’s, Alleyn’s School,
London, 2009
Ministry of Education Report by HM Inspectors on Alleyn’s School, Dulwich Camberwell,
London, 1950
Pearce, Robert Contemporary Britain, 1914-1979, Longman, Harlow, 1996
Savory, Brian A brief dip in memories of Alleyn’s at Rossall [unpublished]
175
Schofield, Susannah ‘Alleyn’s in the 1930s’, privately printed, 2011
Winterbottom, Derek The Tide Flows on: A History of Rossall School, Corporation of Rossall
School, 2006
Young, Robert Before I Forget, published by Robert Young, Oxford, 1990
*This is AOB John Holt (S 1945-51) writing as Michael King
Abbreviations
Chandler: Alleyn’s The Coeducational School
Chandler SLESS: South London Emergency School at Alleyn’s School, Dulwich, 1940-45
D&M: Drama & Music: The Performing Arts at Alleyn’s
DLM: Donald Leinster-Mackay, Alleyn’s and Rossall Schools: The Second World War, Experience and
Status
EAM: Edward Alleyn Magazine
HMIs report, 1950: Report by HM Inspectors on Alleyn’s School, Dulwich Camberwell
�
176
Acknowledgements
I am delighted to record my thanks to the AOBs who shared so freely their memories of Alleyn’s in
the 1940s both on the Memories Day itself and in letters, emails and conversations. In addition,
there are others whose good nature, humour and minds I plundered in the piecing together of this
oral history jig-saw, and I should like to record my gratitude to them as well.
The School’s honorary archivist, Neil French (C 1954-61), and his assistant Robert Holden (S 1956-
62), have been pillars of patience in dealing with the constant quiz of queries and questions about
the 1940s. There was an especial eureka moment we shared when Robert succeeded in finding
Allison’s papers which had lain unnoticed in the Archives – but which had been referenced by
Professor Leinster-Mackay in his monograph, Alleyn’s and Rossall Schools: The Second World War,
Experience and Status. Again, as with the previous report, ‘Alleyn’s in the 1930s’, I must record my
thanks to Professor Leinster-Mackay for answering my questions, in particular, relating to the
education crisis Alleyn’s faced in these years.
To Calista Lucy, Keeper of the Archives at Dulwich College, I thank her for her prompt and efficient
help in letting me know when – and how – Lord Soulbury became a governor of Alleyn’s College of
God’s Gift.
To Dr Stephen Winkley, Headmaster of Rossall School, for clarification about the American aircraft
crash at Singleton.
To my friend Frances Tee for borrowing, on my behalf, seemingly inaccessible and prohibitively
expensive books about education in the 1940s at the library of the Institute of Education.
To AOBs Frank Halford, Alan Jackson, Bill Jones and Derek Smith who carefully explained and
expanded points of fact when I was (frequently) getting stuck in the writing up of the account. Their
recall is astonishing.
One AOB, John Cleary, with whom I was very much looking forward to discussing the finer detail
about the 1940s, died before I had embarked on writing the report. In the time I have been working
at Alleyn’s John was always a knowledgeable and friendly point of contact when I wanted Alleyn’s
matters unknotting. He unknotted with supreme skill, always adding a depth of understanding and
detail.
Susan Miles has been enormously diligent with proofing the final draft. I also benefited from the gift
of unused gems she discovered when she wrote and edited Drama and Music: The Performing Arts
at Alleyn’s.
I must admit that I fell at the last hurdle with reproducing pictures for this report: it was beyond my
technical expertise. This was picked up by Ian Coulby of the School’s IT Department who took the
image baton from me and set it right. He went above and beyond the call of duty in formatting
picture and word and I feel that the end result enhances the report immeasurably.
I must thank Vivienne Thurlow for overseeing the printing of the final report so carefully and for her
continued interest in the project.
177
And whilst I was ensconced in the research and writing up of Alleyn’s in the 1940s, ‘normal service’
in the Development and Alumni Office was maintained by my can-do colleagues, Martha Jones and
David Young. Martha helped in the compilation of the report with her technical wizardry and finding
quote-able quotes; and David was brave enough to edit the first draft: I thank them profusely.
Headmaster Dr Gary Savage has been hugely supportive of the School’s oral history project. He gave
the text the benefit of his historian’s input, and offered gems and steers which improved the
account enormously.
I owe an enormous debt of gratitude to my family who endured my absence as I abseiled into
archives of austerity. I am particularly grateful to my daughter Madeleine for allowing me to use
quotes she gleaned from her interviewees, AOBs David and Sandy Alexander, for her Year 6 Second
World War project.
All errors and assumptions must be assigned to me.
Susannah Schofield
January 2012
178
Index
Air-raids, 35, 53, 136
Albion Place School, 32
Alexander, David, 12, 31, 62, 75, 100, 192
Alexander, Sandy, 29-30, 33, 39, 90, 120, 122,
129, 141, 196
Alleyn Old Boy Club (AOBC), 4, 23, 158, 163,
166, 185
Alleyn Road, 15
Allison, Ralph, 21-22, 33-36, 38-42, 44-45, 49,
51, 55, 58, 62-63, 69, 73-79, 81, 84, 105-07,
113, 117-18, 122, 128, 157, 164-68, 176,
195
Allison, Rita, 117
Ammon, Lord, 179
Anglo-American Weekend, 40
AOBs, 2, 4-5, 19, 21, 23-24, 42-43, 46, 60, 63,
66, 68, 74, 77, 80, 87-88, 92-93, 97-98, 101,
107-08, 112, 120, 123, 125, 128-29, 131-32,
135, 137, 142, 144, 152, 160, 162, 165, 171-
75, 177-78, 180, 182-85, 187-90, 195-96
‘Arts Side’, 110
Assembly, 70, 81, 98, 116, 164
ATC, 140, 142-43, 147-49
Athletics, 39, 68, 132-33, 137-38, 174-75
‘At Homes’, 109
Attlee, Clement, 81, 115
Austerity, 4, 7, 114, 157, 159, 196
Baker, Joseph, 188
Ballet, 105, 125, 129
Barnes, Roy, 13, 16, 23, 49, 64-65, 67, 70-71,
79, 93, 94-96, 100, 103-06, 110, 112, 114,
120-24, 126, 129, 132, 140-41, 143-44, 148-
49, 152-54, 156-57, 162, 179, 192
Barnstormers, 89
Barrage balloon, 18, 34, 113, 136
Bate, John, 109
Battle of Britain, 11, 15, 33, 120, 142, 144
BBC broadcasts, 124
Bear Pit, 43, 60-62, 75-77
Beauval Road, 95
Beckenham, 16
Bed-making, 70
Bevin Boys, 182
Bickford-Smith, DG, 83, 105
Biggin Hill, 143
Bishop of Bath and Wells, 115
Bishop of Southwark, 155
Bisley, 67-68
Blackpool, 19, 22, 44, 46, 61, 65-66, 124, 135,
142, 180
Blitz, 10-11, 15, 33, 36, 178
Board of Education, 6, 8, 14, 22, 25, 27, 35,
38, 47, 51, 57, 66, 109, 139, 165, 179, 192
Boxing, 134
Boxley, 25, 27-30, 71, 133, 145
Breaks, 68, 70-71, 80, 114
British Restaurant, 21, 56
Brockwell Park, 16
Buildings, 6, 8-9, 15, 18, 35, 37-38, 49, 51-52,
58, 63, 78, 90, 106, 148, 151-52, 156, 158-
59, 167, 169, 187
Buisson, Eric, 48, 153, 188
Burbage Road, 16
Burley, John, 46
Butler, RA, 14, 25, 154, 164, 170, 179
Buttery, 71, 80, 109
Calton Avenue, 161, 169
Camberwell, 15, 31, 153, 171, 179, 192-93
Cambridge, 6, 61, 74, 89, 112-14, 128-29, 176-
77, 182, 185, 188
Catford, 10
Cavell, Percy, 30
CCF, 67, 87, 126-135, 140, 148, 184, 188
See also OTC, JTC, ATC
Certificate A, 141, 147-48
Chancellor Grove, 147
Chandler, Arthur, 4, 9, 11, 15-18, 22-23, 36,
44, 51-54, 58, 60, 75, 83, 86, 90, 96, 113,
130, 149, 153, 161, 178, 190, 192-93
Charnley, Geoffrey, 92
Chess Club, 60
Christmas, 9, 46, 66, 107, 132
Churchill, Winston,24, 161, 177-78, 180
Civil Defence, 9, 14
Clapham, 9, 88, 98, 144
Cleary, John, 79-80, 88, 98, 110, 125, 132,
157-58, 164, 187, 195
Cleveleys, 43-44, 48, 75, 124
Colours, 101, 138
Comprehensive schools, 57, 169
Concerts, 8, 14, 90, 105, 120-21, 127-28, 130-
31
Corporal punishment, 99
Cotton, Sir Henry, 171, 173
Council for Education in World Citizenship,
163
Coupons, 21-22, 83, 99, 158
179
Cox, Bruce, 11, 14, 20, 22, 53-54, 58, 85, 89,
140, 151, 185, 187-88
Crescent House, 13, 38, 42, 79, 106-07, 175
Crewe, Monty, 55, 89, 106, 185
Cricket, 52-53, 55-56, 58, 67, 70-71, 92, 101,
103, 106, 132-33, 136-37, 153, 160, 173-75,
185
Croft, Michael, 97, 117
Croft, Roy, 126
Cross-country running, 132
Croxted Road, 15
Dann, Roy,30, 45, 122, 127, 142, 151, 181
D-Day, 16, 178
Deal, 12, 27, 30, 36, 52
Desk inspections, 70
Detention, 17, 80, 95, 98, 101, 103, 110
Detling, 28, 29, 32
Dig for Victory, 9, 20, 53, 60, 65
Direct Grant, 7, 78, 165-66, 168, 170, 172
Discipline, 4, 8, 53, 69, 80, 88-94, 98-99, 102-
04, 106, 121, 153, 155, 157, 184
Dodd, George, 80, 93
Doodlebugs, 10
Doubleday, George,31, 33-34
Doubleday, RJ, 69
Drama, 43-44, 50, 55, 60, 75-76, 105-07, 117,
119, 124
Dulwich, 4, 7-8, 15-18, 22-24, 27, 29, 30, 39,
42-43, 48, 50-55, 58, 61, 74, 77-78, 118,
120, 134, 136-37, 143, 147-48, 151-53, 157,
159, 161, 164-65, 167, 183, 192-95
Dulwich College, 151
Durrant, AAM, 178
Eaglen, Alan, 11, 85, 87, 89-90, 102-03, 153,
183, 187
Eayrs, 'Teddy', 53-54, 82
Eccott, EN, 100
Education Act, 5, 7, 111, 114, 154, 164, 165,
169, 170
Elford, Vic, 171, 175
Elms, 52, 56, 72
Emergency schools, 9, 51
Epsom Downs, 143, 147
Evacuation, 2, 5-6, 8, 11-12, 23, 27, 30-31, 33-
36, 42, 48, 51, 73, 75, 82-83, 107, 114, 134,
153, 190
Ewens, Dr, 177
Exams, 8, 11, 54, 79-80, 87, 112-13, 115, 127,
149, 151-52, 164, 182, 185-86
Feeley, Gordon, 9, 19, 21, 22-23, 57, 92, 152
Fees, 7, 152, 161, 165, 169
Field Day, 25, 142-43, 147
Fifty Club, 31, 60, 61-62, 76, 146, 162
Films, 66
Fire-watching, 15-16
Fives, 5, 19, 30, 56, 60, 132-34, 137, 152, 158-
59, 175, 187
Fleetwood, 7, 14, 22, 34, 38, 44, 48, 64, 75,
107, 123, 124, 145
Fleming Report, 165
Flying bombs, 10, 16-17, 47, 54, 58
Food, 6, 19, 21, 46-47, 55-56, 71, 157, 163,
184
Football, 18-19, 22, 53, 55-56, 58, 60, 67, 73,
94, 96, 101, 132, 134-35, 138, 153, 174,
180-81
Ford’s Motor Works, 67
Forum Club, 55, 60-61
Founder’s Day, 22, 42, 50, 71, 118, 161, 179
Jim French, 17, 55, 86, 190
Gallymore, MJ, 110
Gaukrodger, GC, 55, 86
General Certificate of Education, 7, 169
General School Certificate, 54, 113
German measles, 29
Gilbert, Michael, 104, 119, 122, 128-30
Gilbert and Sullivan, 128-29
Giles, Dr, 15, 85, 94
Giles, Sidney, 76, 127-28, 130
Goddard, Brian, 162
Goebbels, Joseph, 25
Goldner, Norman, 61, 66, 89
Goodrich, Gerry, 172, 174-75
Gorell, Lord, 179
Governors, 73-74, 137, 160, 165-66, 169, 178-
79
Grammar School, 9, 32, 51, 74, 96, 111, 133,
135, 142, 168
Great Hall, 42, 90, 98, 106, 123, 129, 187
Green, David, 123
Green, NA, 16-17
Grigg, Lord, 24, 180
Groom, VE, 178
Gubyon Avenue, 17
Hack, Charlie, 9, 51, 54, 73, 100
Hajiantonis, Michael, 117
Half Moon Lane, 102
Halford, Frank, 21, 40, 43, 47, 50, 75, 92, 94,
121-22, 131, 135, 141, 162, 188, 195
Harvest, 9, 20, 54, 83
180
Harvey, Pat, 54
Haslam, VK,19-20, 60, 65, 83, 85, 89, 101, 161
Heber Road School, 21, 56
Henderson, Ralph, 6, 9, 25, 32, 35, 42, 51, 73-
74, 78, 80-82, 84, 92, 96, 102-03, 106, 109,
122, 137, 145, 163, 166, 168, 174
Herne Hill, 17, 56, 102, 152
Higgins, Lord, 76, 90, 127, 129, 137, 171-72,
174-75, 187
Higher School Certificates, 114-15
Hirst, Eric, 13, 71, 98, 188
Hitler, Adolf, 14, 17, 27, 48, 61, 63, 112, 146,
162
Hockey, 35, 134
Holiday club, 57
Hollingbourne, 27
Holt, John, 2, 10, 13, 17, 80-81, 87, 94, 98,
101, 110, 140, 143, 159, 172, 191, 193
Home Front, 14
Home Guard, 8, 15, 35, 83, 140-141, 144-47
Homework, 87-88, 95, 102, 109, 114, 149
Honor Oak Park, 153
House shirts, 5
Howlett, Robert, 23, 113, 147
Hudson, Sidney, 6-7, 49, 69, 73, 78-81, 84-85,
91, 101, 104, 114, 116, 138, 140, 148-49,
157-60, 163, 168, 170
Hughes, John, 3, 66, 92, 95, 100, 132, 137,
151-52, 174, 177, 184-85, 187-89
Hutt, 'Polly', 54, 85-86, 95, 171
Incledon, Sidney, 32, 96, 178, 183
Inspectors, 5, 47, 65, 73, 97, 130, 157, 192-93
International Forum, 39
Isherwood, Christopher, 94, 157
Jackson, Alan,10, 17, 21, 37, 44, 66, 79, 91,
132, 140, 153, 160, 172-77, 182, 185, 190
JAGS, 18, 80, 101-02, 149
James House, 38, 42, 45-46, 106
Jazz, 125, 176-77
Jenkyn, Peter, 24, 36, 58
Johnson, Leslie, 8, 12, 29, 33, 62, 65
Jones, Bill, 37, 85, 96, 112, 142, 178, 183, 195
Jones, Bub, 85
Jones, Prof RV, 178
Journals, 2, 68, 70
JTC, 78-79, 140-42, 144, 147-49
Junior County Scholarship, 8, 151-52
Junior School, 9, 19, 27, 30-31, 33, 36, 42, 45,
52, 60, 64-65, 88, 92, 98, 103, 106, 111,
122, 153, 187
Kennard, Frank, 131
Kent, 5, 10-11, 20, 27, 29-35, 37, 60, 71, 75,
89-90, 106, 118, 120, 133, 142, 145, 162
Lambeth, 14-15, 28, 153
Lammas Term, 47-48
Lancashire, 34, 37, 43, 53, 75
Lanchbery, Jack, 104, 118, 125, 128-29, 156,
171, 176
Latin, 11, 31, 52, 82, 85, 94, 95-96, 99, 113,
133, 182, 187
Lefevre, 96, 180
Leinster-Mackay, Professor Donald, 7, 35, 37,
40, 57, 74, 76, 81, 104, 127, 167, 168, 179,
192, 193, 195
Lenham, 27, 30
Lewisham, 10, 153
Library, 37, 50, 64, 114, 125, 187
Listers’ Café, 142, 143
Local Defence Volunteer, 15, 145
Logan, J,11, 85, 117
London County Council, 5-6, 51, 57, 152, 163,
165, 167, 177, 179, 192
Lordship Lane, 10, 17, 56, 93, 156
Lovelace Road, 24, 58
Mackesy, Alan, 90, 118, 130
Maidstone, 7, 9, 13, 15, 19, 23, 27, 29-30, 32-
34, 36, 41, 51-52, 73-74, 79, 82, 84, 96, 106-
07, 113-14, 124, 133, 135, 142, 145-46
Maitland, Sir John, 29, 83, 85, 96, 112
Maple, James, 18, 95
Marshall Plan, 157
Mary Datchelor School, 31
Matthews, Stanley, 135, 180-81
McAnuff, John, 105
McClymont, CJ, 18, 54-55, 82, 85, 106, 108
Meerendonk, FA, 148, 160
Memorial Garden, 161, 169
Merrill, John, 14, 40, 43-44, 56, 67, 98, 102-
03, 190
Middle School Club, 60, 62, 76, 89
Milk, 33, 47, 56, 70-71, 73, 83, 108
Ministry of Education, 4, 6-7, 96, 111, 136,
138, 169, 193
Ministry of Health, 12, 48
Model Society, 60, 64
Modern Language Club, 60, 63
Moody, Harold, 137, 171-72
Morning Quiet, 69
Moss, Gerald, 113
Munich Crisis, 8
Music, 43, 49, 55, 90-91, 108-118-31, 153,
168, 174, 176
181
Nairn Grove, 18
Napper, Ken, 98, 176
National Service, 81, 113, 141, 182-84, 186
Natural History Club, 60
Nazi, 25
Newport, 7, 13, 34
Norwood Report, 165
Norwood Road, 153
Oliver Goldsmith’s School, 9
'Operation Pied Piper', 27
OTC, 58, 71, 78-79, 89, 140-42, 145, 147
Out-houses, 48
Oxford, 6, 61, 74, 112-14, 129, 178, 182, 185,
188, 193
Palastanga, David, 171, 177
Parents, 27, 78, 109, 158, 163
See also 'At Homes'
Peckham, 9, 137, 151, 173, 187
Penge, 10
Phillips, Tojo, 79
Philpott, Peter, 30, 32-33, 40, 43, 66, 69, 89,
134-35, 176, 180, 182
Phoney War, 9, 32
Pilgrims’ Way, 11, 145-46
Prefects, 5, 17, 43, 53-54, 58, 88-94, 98, 103-
05, 108-09, 113
Pretlove, John, 125, 137, 174-75
Public Schools’ Employment Bureau, 185
Randall, Eric, 97, 149
Ratcliffe, TA, 160
Rationing, 21, 47, 157, 158
Ratzer, Terry, 86, 117
Record Club, 60
Rees, Ivor, 96-97
Reeve, Peter, 41, 43, 46-48, 68, 79, 98, 102-
03, 108, 113, 117, 125, 134-36, 175, 180
Resistance, 87, 88
Rewards, 101
Rifle Club, 68
Robertson, Charles, 167
Robinson, Edward, 11, 18, 30, 61, 74, 88, 102,
121, 151, 182, 190
Rodway, Peter, 19, 22-23, 58, 68-69, 86-88,
93, 98, 113, 119, 125, 129, 132, 152, 184-
85, 188-89
Rogerstown, 33
Roll of Honour, 5
Rose House, 37, 42, 106
Rossall, 2, 5, 9, 13-15, 19, 22-23, 30, 34-50,
52-53, 55, 58, 60-62, 64-65, 69, 70, 73, 75,
77, 78-79, 82-84, 89, 91, 96, 104-07, 113-
14, 117-18, 120-23, 127-28, 130, 132-36,
141-44, 146-48, 151, 161, 164, 176, 180,
190, 192-93, 195
Rossalleyns, 39, 62, 63
Rudd, FA,54-55, 89-90, 106, 130, 183
Sandling, 28-29, 60, 133
Sanitorium, 46
Savory, Brian, 54, 84, 96, 113, 123-124, 126,
134, 176, 180, 190, 193
Scarlet fever, 46
Scholarships, 6, 8, 89, 112, 128, 151-153, 176-
77, 182
School uniform, 98-99, 102
Science, 63, 82, 96, 110, 113, 117, 153
‘Science Side’, 110
Scientific Society, 60, 63
Scott Galbraith, John, 160
Shackleton, LAR, 95, 148-49, 152
Shooting, 43, 67-68, 71, 153
Shortages, 6, 22-23, 44, 57, 64, 82-83, 132,
160
Sirens, 8, 53, 76
SLESS, 5, 9-10, 14-18, 22, 24, 36, 46-58, 61,
73, 78, 82, 86, 90, 92, 96, 99, 102, 106, 113-
14, 117-18, 130, 136, 140, 147, 151-53, 180,
187-88, 190, 193
Smale, Ron, 11, 53-54, 85-86, 89, 153
Smith, Derek, 3, 14, 21, 39, 70-71, 85-86, 89,
92, 99, 101-03, 110-11, 149, 151-52, 158,
173, 184, 187, 190, 195
Smith, Ian, 9, 15, 55-56, 70, 73, 132, 156
Smith, WJ, 33, 43, 63, 85, 90, 99, 117-23, 125-
26, 129, 138, 174
Soulbury, Lord, 25, 165, 179, 195
South East London Inter-Schools Discussion
Group, 162
South London Emergency Secondary School,
see SLESS
Speech Day, 24-25, 30, 44, 77-78, 109, 113-15,
128, 141, 160, 163, 165, 167-68, 179, 180
Sport, 119-125, 132-33, 188
Spread Eagle House, 13, 38, 48, 106-08
Spring, Albert, 45, 84, 89, 91-92, 103, 122, 166
Spring, Ken, 92
Spurdens, Norman,90
Staff, 5-11, 15, 20, 24, 31-32, 36-39, 42, 45,
49, 51-52, 54, 57, 58, 74-87, 89, 91, 94-95,
97-98, 100, 103-04, 106, 111-12, 117, 129-
30, 137, 145-49, 151, 156-57, 160, 162-63,
166-67, 171, 180, 184, 189-90
182
Stamp Club, 60, 62-63
Standard Test, 136
Stewart, Micky, 43, 45-47, 49, 67, 92-93, 106,
117, 132-33, 135, 137, 171, 174-75, 187-88,
190
Sunray Avenue, 18
Swimming, 37-38, 52, 132-36, 183, 187
Swindlehurst, Michael, 89, 117, 120, 126
Sydenham, 10, 17
Taylor, Cedric, 172-73
Taylor, David, 87
Taylor, JA, 66, 94, 98
Taylor, RE, 82
Thain, Gerry, 21, 29, 31, 40, 43, 46-47, 74, 76,
89, 103, 141, 145, 180, 182-83
The Hall, 42, 106, 118
The Rossallian, 5
Thomas, Alan, 9, 51, 82, 99, 114, 151, 187
Thurlow Park Road, 153
Tilley, Henry, 145
Tin Tab, 56, 159
Tomlin, Bernard, 18, 22
Townley Road, 5, 9-10, 13, 18-19, 49, 53-54,
56, 58, 64, 70, 78, 81, 83, 95, 98-99, 102,
113-14, 126, 130, 154, 161, 169, 187
Transitionally Assisted School, 169
Tribe, Mr, 89, 92
Trist, Col, 35, 38, 45, 77
Tulse Hill, 17, 153
Tyson, Charlie, 9, 42, 51-52, 54, 57-58, 71, 73,
90, 106-07, 130
United Nations, 156
Upward, Edward, 85, 94, 118, 157
V1s, 10-11, 16-18, 24, 36, 48
V2s, 10, 17, 35, 48
VE Day, 26, 35, 70, 156, 192
Vernon, Russell, 161
VJ Day, 83, 156
Wade, Robert, 64
Wales, 5, 9, 12, 33-34, 36, 107, 109, 183
Wales, Martin, 19
Wallace, David, 23, 44, 46, 75, 190
Waller, Reg, 174
Walmer, 12, 133
War, 4-25, 27, 30-33, 35-40, 42, 44-45, 49, 51-
53, 55, 57, 60-61, 63, 65-68, 71, 74-75, 77-
85, 87-90, 92, 94, 96, 99-100,104, 107-109,
111-112, 114, 116-18, 123-24, 130, 132,
134, 136-43, 146-49, 151-54, 156-61, 163-
64, 169, 171, 173, 176, 178-80, 182-84, 190
War damage, 15, 159
War memorial, 160
War Office, 82, 142, 144-45
War Savings, 8, 13, 14
War-effort, 8, 82, 124
Waters, Trevor, 64, 85
Watt, Rev JH, 25, 30, 71-72
Weavering, 27-29, 133
Wetherick, Norman, 8, 51, 82, 85, 89-90, 94,
98-99, 151-52, 156-57, 172-73, 175
Who’d a thought it pub, 29
Wiggs, Dora, 55, 85-88, 98, 159
Williams, John, 10, 19, 56, 58, 68, 71, 75, 83,
98, 103-04, 112, 117, 122, 132, 138, 140,
148, 152, 158, 173, 184, 191
Winkley, Stephen, 19, 195
Winter of 1947, 158
Woodwarde Road, 19
Wrench, Peter, 3, 8, 13, 16, 26, 79, 82, 87-88,
93, 101-02, 132, 144, 148-49, 174, 183-84,
191
Wright, 'Pussy', 54-55, 64, 85-86, 106, 130
Young, Robert, 6, 29, 32, 55, 70, 73, 82, 84,
92, 99-100, 111, 117, 122, 128, 137, 140,
156, 158-59, 161, 166, 171, 190, 193
183
CONTRIBUTORS TO 1940S MEMORIES DAY REUNION
Guests at reunion held 1 March 2011
Alleyn Old Boys
Sandy Alexander (Brading's, 1938-47)
John Cleary (Brading's, 1945-51)
Bruce Cox (Tyson's, 1941-44)
Roy Dann (Dutton's, 1937-42)
Alan Eaglen (Tyson's, 1939-44)
Gordon Feeley (SLESS, 1941-50)
Frank Halford (Roper's, 1942-49)
Eric Hirst (Cribb's, 1944-50)
Robert Howlett (Brading's, 1944-50)
John Hughes (Cribb's, 1945-51)
Alan Jackson (Cribb's, 1945-51)
John Merrill (Roper's, 1942-48)
Peter Reeve (Cribb's, 1941-48)
Edward Robinson (Tyson's, 1938-41)
Peter Rodway (Cribb's, 1942-50)
Derek Smith (Roper's, 1947-53)
Ian Smith (Roper's, 1942-49)
Micky Stewart (Tulley's, 1944-51)
Alan Tait (Tyson's, 1940-45)
Gerry Thain (Tyson’s, 1938-44)
Alan Thomas (SLESS, 1940-41)
John Williams (Roper's, 1943-49)
Peter Wrench (Cribb's, 1945-49)
Facilitators
Aaiza Ali (Roper's, 2008-10), Gap Yr Administrative Asst
Neil French (Cribb's, 1954-61), Honorary Archivist
Robert Holden (Spurgeon's, 1956-62), Assist Archivist
Martha Jones, Development Office Assistant
David Young, Director of Development & Finance
Year 9 Pupils
Alex Croft (Roper’s)
Michael Hajiantonis (Cribb’s)
Hannah Levine (Cribb's)
Rebecca McDowell (Cribb’s)
Danny Nay (Cribb’s)
Lucy Steadman (Brading’s)
Kate Sullivan (Cribb’s)
Albert Wayman Scarlett (Cribb's)
Year 12 Pupils
Joseph Baker (Roper’s)
Charlie Carman (Brown’s)
Sofia Greaves (Tulley’s)
Jessica Lawler (Roper’s)
Connie McKimm (Tulley's)
Livvi Minghella (Tyson’s)
Daniel Petrides (Spurgeon’s)
Grace Rahman (Roper’s)
Kim Stallard (Brown's )
Jim Turnbull-Walter (Tyson's)
Staff
Rev Anthony Buckley, School Chaplain
Antony Faccinello, Senior Deputy Head
David Harley, Head of History
Neil Kinnear (Brading’s, 1963-70), Photographer
Jon Lilly, Deputy Head
Dr Gary Savage, Headmaster
Susannah Schofield, Head of Alumni Relations
Gillian Silver, Head of English
Max Tottenham (Cribb’s, 2003-10), Gap Yr
Administrative Asst
Contributors to project
David Alexander (Brading's 1933 1942)
John Bate (Tulley's 1932-39)
Robert Boughton (Tyson's 1935-41)
Eric Buisson (Cribb's 1941-49)
John Burley (Dutton's 1942-48)
George Doubleday (Tyson’s, 1937-46)
Eric Farley (Brown's 1940-45)
Michael Gilbert (Tulley’s, 1944-50)
Gerry Goodrich (Dutton’s, 1944-49)
Pat Harvey (SLESS, 1940-46)
Betty Johnson for Leslie Johnson (Brading's 1939-43)
Bill Jones (Roper's 1935-42)
Thomas Nicholson (Spurgeon's 1938-44)
Jeffery Orchard (Roper's 1942-50)
Peter Philpott (Brading's 1934-43)
David Pratt (Tyson's 1937-46)
Ron Smale (Brading's 1940-46)
Norman Spurdens (Tyson’s, 1932-41)
David Taylor (Tulley's 1956-63)
David Wallace (Cribb's 1941-46)
Trevor Waters (Brown's, 1939-49)
184
185
186
187
188
189
Sunday Times article about Alleyn’s move to Rossall, 20 April 1941
190
191
192
1940s Memories Day Reunion
Alleyn’s School
March 1 2011
Names of guests in group photograph on front cover
Gerry Thain
Alan Eaglen
Gary Savage Antony
Faccinello
Sandy
Alexander
Jon Lilly
Gordon Feeley
Ted Robinson Eric Hirst
Bruce Cox Alan
Thomas
Frank
Halford
John Merill
John Williams
Alan Jackson John Hughes
Ian Smith Micky
Stewart Alan Tait
Peter Reeve
John Cleary
Derek Smith
Pauline
Holloway
Robert Howlett
Peter Wrench
Peter
Rodway
Roy Dann
Anthony
Buckley
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