Part I: Seals teeth and whales ears - Scott Polar Research Institute ...

snow, catching the light and shadow.
Our school teachers were a good lot. Mr Mallinson ("Mallie") still taught us
maths, but spent a lot of time reminiscing about the First World War and life in the
trenches. "What do you do boys if there's a poison gas attack?" "You take out your
handkerchief, pee on it and put it to your face, breathe through it, and it filters out
the mustard gas!" (Of course this went down very well among the boys – ‘titter,
titter”). He could be irascible and chased us on occasion through the classroom,
calling us "you cheeky wallahs!" and wielding a piece of rubber tubing from the
chemistry lab, which was extremely painful if it made contact; but he was well-liked.
The French teacher was the reverse, a shy, pretty Belgian girl, who was sometimes
the butt of practical jokes and attempts to embarrass her; we liked her but were
rather thoughtlessly cruel. Our Physics teacher, Miss Joslin, was very impressive. She
later became the Headmistress of the Francis Holland School near Baker Street in
London and, many years later, after I had returned from the Antarctic I went there to
give a lecture to her girls.
We helped the war effort by working in the wet and muddy fields grubbing up
potatoes (‘tatie scrattin’) for a shilling an hour. It was back-breaking, miserable, cold
work, but we felt that we were doing our bit for the war effort. We visited the
surrounding country - Solway, Millom, Silloth, and Carlisle - and we had rugger
fixtures with other schools including St Bees and Heversham. In the limited time we
had after the matches with Heversham I made a close friend in John Moss – he also
played hooker - whom I saw much of later as an undergraduate at Cambridge.
A significant day for me was a bus trip we made to the Lake District not far to
the south. Unfortunately it was raining and all the mountains, Helvellyn for instance,
were hidden behind dense clouds almost to the bottom of the valleys; all we saw
were the signposts indicating adventurous walks and footpaths that led up into the
thick cloud layer. However there were better experiences, with visits to Caldbeck
("D'ye ken John Peel"), and Keswick, where we climbed Skiddaw, a very dull climb
up slate screes, which I have never repeated. However, the weather was fine and we
appreciated the extensive view. It was a revelation to me, and only my second hill
walk; the first was Ben A 'Ghlo in Perthshire climbed earlier that year.
We spent two terms at Wigton, an enjoyable time for me. I saw my parents a few
times; they came at least once to Wigton to see where I was billeted. They also
travelled to Carlisle and I took a bus to meet them there. I wrote to them regularly
and it was my father who tended to reply. I suppose mother was too busy; she had a
wartime job as a manpower inspector with the Ministry, in which she was very
successful I believe, because later it led to the award of an MBE. The war didn't
develop in those months - it was the time of "the phony war"- and so the school
returned to Newcastle about February l940 and a more normal life at home ensued
for a while.
Return home and re-evacuation to Windermere
The next few months, living back at home on the coast, were unsettling after
seeing wider horizons. I swam a lot in the cold sea before breakfast (my father was
President of the local Swimming Club) and in summer cycled to school at Fenham, a
suburb of Newcastle, a distance of about 12 miles each way, in places through
30