May - Old Scarborians

2==David PottageInternational Golf CourseArchitectA Complete ServicefromProject AppraisalthroughDetailed DesigntoTurnkey Development70 Whitesmead RoadOld TownStevenageHerts. SG1 3JZTel: 01438 221026Fax:01438 229271e-mail davidpottage@ntlworld.comMember European Institute of Golf Course Architects

1PRESIDENT:Mick Bowman,9 Ilkley Grove, Guisborough, ClevelandTS14 8LLTel: +44 (0)1287 634650E-mail: mjwb@supanet.comSECRETARY/MEMBERSHIPPeter Robson, Forge Villa, High Street,Ebberston, North Yorkshire. YO13 9PATel: +44 (0)1723 859335E-mail: Peter.Robson@btinternet.comAssistant Secretary/MembershipColin Hurd (01723 870597)E-mail: colinhurd@yahoo.co.ukFINANCIAL, SPORT &MAGAZINE ADVERTISINGChris Found, Pinewood Cottage, Silpho,Scarborough. North Yorkshire.YO13 0JP Tel: +44 (0)1723 882343E-mail: DFound@ukf.netSUMMER TIMES EDITORIALPlease send all items for the next Summer Times,(by e-mail, CD or floppy disk if possible; otherwiseon single sides of paper), to reach me by15th August 2003:David Fowler,“Farthings”, 56 Prince of Wales Apartments,Esplanade,Scarborough, North Yorkshire. YO11 2BBTel: +44 (0)1723 365448E-mail: osa@farthings.org.ukAssociate EditorJohn Mann (01948 662943; M: 0799 0787089)E-mail: john.e.mann@ukgateway.netOSA WEB SITEhttp://oldscarborians.orgPlease send all items for the web site, to:Bill Potts1848 Hidden Hills DriveRoseville California 95661-5804 USATelephone: +001 916 773-3865E-mail: osa@wfpconsulting.comPUBLICITYPlease send photographs for scanning for theweb site, from UK addresses, or publicityitems, to:Mick Bowman,9 Ilkley Grove, Guisborough, ClevelandTS14 8LLTel: +44 (0)1287 634650E-mail: mjwb@supanet.comCONTENTS2 Editorial3 Presidential4 Secretarial6 Treasurial6 Sporting events6 OSA web site report7 Committee Profiles13 From here & there18 Obituaries23 Memories– a Girl at SBHS25 More Memories – Myton-on-Swale26 Dinner at Myton26 Memories of Stod27 Further Imperfect Memories28 Recollections31 Seconds Out33 Bill Kendall Remembers35 Flotsam & Jetsam36 Graham School Appeal36 The World’s Easiest Quiz36 Peter Robson visits Australia37 Chewing the Fat42 School Photo 192543 Connections45 Hov’s War Memoir – Preamble47 Hov’s War Memoir – Response48 5000 Miles – Hov’s War Memoir51 Casey’s Continental Capers– Part.158 Answers to The World’s Easiest Quiz58 Crossword Solution November 200259 Crossword No. 360 Late News; Forthcoming Events60 Postscript

EDITORIALI was browsing idlythrough a copy of TheScarborian. A mustyaroma tainted withmildew percolatedthe air and dust fleweverywhere as Iflicked the pages. Themagazine fell open atthe Old Scarborians’ Association page.The mustiness was hardly surprising. Themagazine was issue 29 - published in 1943 and60 years old.I thought there would be few connectionsbetween 1943 and 2003; until I read thateditorial:“Last year 600 copies of The Scarborian were sentout to Old Boys serving in the Forces at home andabroad. The Magazine made its way to all parts ofthe world, and even as the new Magazine goes toPress, letters of acknowledgment are still beingreceived.There is no doubt that the Magazine was welcomed,and the reward for the trouble in sending ithas been not merely thanks, but unstinted andenthusiastic praise of the contents. A typical letteris one from India: “It was really a treat to get theSchool Magazine. When I received it I put allthings aside till I had read it from cover to cover.”Another writes: “Just a line saying how much Iappreciated reading the School Magazine again thisyear. Mention of some of the names in it broughthappy memories of Schooldays.” A naval wandererwrites: “I’m very grateful for the assortment ofnews it gives - especially that of Old Boys. I maysay that several of my fellow officers have all beenvery impressed by the variety of activities it covers.”And finally, a “Desert Rat” hits on the explanationof the warmth of its welcome:“I thoroughly enjoyed reading it, and could visualizethose end-of-term meetings when the Magazinedid not take on such a sentimental value as it doesnow. I received the last one in the thick of the June‘show,’ and under trying conditions it was eagerly2digested.”Now, 60 years on, we send 638 copies of SummerTimes world wide - but twice a year. Thissurely says something about the strength ofour Association when the school closed some30 years ago.Now, 60 years on, we receive comments whichindicate the magazine is still as welcome now,as it was in 1943.Now, 60 years on, the “Desert Rats” again areat war.However, there is one other, much more strikingconnection.As I write this Editorial early in April, some ofour troops are approaching Baghdad.60 years ago, in 1943, the year that musty, mildewedmagazine was published as a new,crisp copy of The Scarborian, Major GeorgeReginald Hovington, (better known as Hov),was fighting for King and Country. Today westart to serialize his Memoir, and I quote fromChapter 6:“On our way through Baghdad, we were astoundedto see Hedley Verity. He had caught amoebic dysenteryin India and was sent to the hospital in thecity for treatment before being repatriated. How heknew our company was to pass through Baghdad Ido not know but there he was, like a hitch-hiker,stopping our leading truck.”Connections indeed!To bring us back to the present, thank you toall contributors and advertisers, thank you toJohn Mann who is now Associate Editor(another name for part-time typist but I’mbreaking him in gently between his many holidays!),thank you to proof-readers AdrianCasey - get well soon Adrian - and PeterRobson, and, above all many thanks to all ofyou, whether contributors or not.Without your support there couldn’t be anOld Scarborians Association.David Fowler (1949-55)Editor

3PRESIDENTIALI was honoured to beelected President of theOld Scarborians Associationthis year andvery pleased to be thefirst son to follow hisfather in the position.I first attended an AGMten years ago and I discoveredthat attendance automatically madeyou a member of the committee. If memoryserves me right there were nine old boys there.Amongst them were Frank Bamforth, GeoffNalton, Jack Layton and Peter Emms and hisfather.Since then there have been many changes tothe association and the attendance at AGM’shas now reached the point were there has to bea vote for committee membership. Although Icannot remember anyone wishing to participatebeing turned down! In fact as the workload has increased the Secretary and MagazineEditor now have assistants.Although regular thanks are given to the drivingforces behind the association I would liketo take this opportunity to bring the enormousamount of work done for members by PeterRobson, David Fowler, Chris Found and BillPotts to your attention. Each of these spendmany hours involved with association tasksand without their commitment to the Old Boysthe dinners, magazines and web site we enjoywould not be there. On behalf of the membershipthank you, gentlemen.The annual Christmas Dinner at the PalmCourt seemed to be it’s usual success and Ihave no doubt Peter has given details in hisreport. The only point of contention appearedto be about which bar members should meet inbefore arriving at the Palm Court.On Boxing Day I drove down from Guisboroughwith my brother-in-law, John Walker(1958-65), to watch the annual rugby matchbetween the Old Boys, now renamed The Exiles,and the Rugby Club. Although the yearsare long past when you could see up to thirtyOld Scarborians slogging it out on the pitch Iwas amazed at the links still there.Barry Beanland, who first played in the fixturein 1969 has been involved ever since either as aplayer or team organiser, Peter Emms whostarted school in 1951 led the team out andobviously has learnt nothing in his many yearsof rugby as he still plays in the madhouse positionsin the front row. This of course is the viewof a person who spent all his time in the backs!Also playing was the gentleman reported asthe youngest old boy on the membership list,Nigel Wilson who started school in 1972. Muchto my amazement the links did not end there.Richard White had his two sons James andJonnie playing, Roger Gilbert had a son Richardplaying and another son Chris hobblingwith a broken foot and unable to turn out,Chris Found’s boy Richard was also involved.While presenting the trophy I was told that theChairman of the club, Colin Adamson, and theClub President elect, Colin Rennard, are bothOld Boys. Barry also told me that Bash Howes,who was a great supporter of the Rugby Club,left a considerable amount of money to the clubon his untimely death. The club used it to starta development fund, which is ongoing andmight be considered for donations from oldboys who have enjoyed the sport and social lifeoffered by the club over the years.If any of the names or details mentioned arewrong or I have missed anyone out, I apologisenow and put forward the defence that I wasenjoying the club’s best bitter while gatheringthe information.On the topic of the rugby links can I raise acouple of questions?The trophy played for is the Marsden Trophyand was presented in 1936. Questions: Whendid the Old Boys v The Rugby Club fixturesstart? Has the trophy always been for rugby orwas the school a soccer school in the 1930’s?

4Does anyone out there have any memories ofpast games, funny or serious or historical fact?Where did all the school’s rugby players go?Clive Hopkins and Henry Bell became foundermembers of Guisborough Rugby club, GeoffDowson went on to captain Yorkshire, NormHopkins played at Scarborough along withmany others, Dave Watson vanished to thewilds of Lancashire and strange teams in thewest and I think Mick Cammish played RugbyLeague.If you have any memories or details, funny,serious or historical let either David Fowler ormyself know and we will publish the relevantfact or fiction. Do not be put off because you feelyour piece might be too short or unimportant. Itmight just spark others off so generating a historyof Scarborough High School Rugby.I was very pleased to be part of a considerableOld Boy’s presence at the 80 th birthday party forBob Watson. Besides the members present itwas good to see Jack Speight again. There werepeople present from many organisations as wellas ex pupils, ex colleagues and many friends.The “old guy” is certainly an example to us all. Ionly hope we are as active as he is at 80. CongratulationsBob.Having seen Bob and Jack I was asked by one ortwo members if we could track down more exteachers and encourage them to attend one orother of the gatherings.Do you know the whereabouts of an ex memberof staff?Let David or myself know if you do and we will“knock on their door” and ask if they wouldlike to see what the eager young boys they sentout into the world turned into.The next event is the London Lunch and I hopeas many members as possible will try to attend.Tickets and details are available from PeterRobson as usual.Mick Bowman (1954-61)PresidentSECRETARIALAt 16 February 2003, the OSA had 638 membersversus 616 at the timeof my last report (August21 st 2002), an increase of22. Thus, we continue torecruit new members albeitat a slower rate thanin the recent past. Asusual, I ask all memberswho have kept in touchwith their contemporaries to inform themabout the OSA and to refer them to the website which gives a lot of detailed informationabout the OSA and includes an applicationform for Life Membership.Each year we gain members but sadly we alsolose them. In the past six months I have hadthe deaths of the following reported to me:-Ray Ashford (1942-47), Derek Bielby (1934-39),Peter Toy (1928-32), Brian Speak (1936-41)John Yeadon (1945-53) and Denis Saunders(1936-43)The past six months have been relatively quietfollowing the high activity of the Centenaryyear. We had an excellent Scarborough dinnerattended by 82 members and we are in theadvanced planning stage for the LondonLunch. At this time it looks as though the latterwill be attended by about 50 members slightlylower than last year. Even this attendance dependson the response to a reminder about thelunch which has gone out to all the memberswith an e mail address. There has been a smallresponse to the question which I raised in thelast issue of Summer Times, about the wisdomof continuing with this event. Everyone whoresponded was in favour of keeping the lunchso we go ahead on that basis.As usual, we had the AGM in November andthe principle events were the election of MickBowman (1954-61) as President, and of JackLayton (1936-41) and Doug Owen (1935-40) asHonorary Life Vice Presidents. The latter twohave retired from the Committee following

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6many years of faithful support and we thankthem for their efforts and hope to see them asusual at out events.This year we will have an additional event.The Old Girls Association of the SGHS haveinvited us to a joint dinner on the Saturday27 th September at the Palm Court Hotel. Thisevent will be open to spouses as well as membersof both Associations. You will find anapplication form for tickets in this issue.One of the benefits of being your Secretary isthat I get to correspond with many of you.You have interesting stories to tell about howyou have translated the broad education thatyou received at the School into a rewardingcareer. Wherever possible I pass these lettersand communications on to David for inclusionin Summer Times. Please keep the letterscoming!Peter Robson (1945-53)SecretaryTREASURIALThere is very little toreport on the financialfront since the last editionother than that weare still solvent and thatsubs are still trickling inalbeit at a slower rate.A small profit wasmade on the ScarboroughChristmas Dinner and the running expensesof the organisation continue to be veryminimal.We have recently lost three of our regularadvertisers in Summer Times and if anybodyknows of any possible replacements we shallbe grateful if you will let us know. The cost ofa full page in any edition is £50 and £30 forhalf a page.Chris Found (1951-59)TreasurerSPORTING EVENTSGolf Competitions - 2003The golf days for 2003 are as follows:-Dr. Meadley Thursday 5th JuneT.A.Smith Thursday 17th JulyFor the latter event the first tee has been reservedfrom 2.30 to 3.30 p.m. and we are hopingthat all entrants will agree to start duringthis time, wherever possible, so that playingfours can be pre-arranged by the organisers.Chris Found (1951-59)Golf SecretaryOLD SCARBORIANS WEBSITE REPORTOwing to other commitments,I have madevery few changes oradditions to the website since the last editionof Summer Times.There are still a numberof photographs ofprefects, drama productionsand some sporting events in thebacklog.One significant addition, however, is the 1942school photograph, for which EricThomlinson (who now lives in Cambridge,Ontario) kindly provided a fairly wellpreservedoriginal.Graham Rew has scanned and sent the 1958school photograph, which I may have addedby the time you read this. Based on the years Iwas at the school, I had been under the impressionthat whole-school photographs werealways quadrennial events. Given that wenow have both 1958 and 1959 photographs, Irealise that hasn’t always been the case.If you have submitted photographs and arestill awaiting their appearance, please accept

7my apologies for the delay.For the technically inclined, I am graduallyconverting the site to use cascading stylesheets. For pages for which I have done this,loading is marginally faster. However, selfinterestis my main motivation, as the timerequired for site maintenance and additionswill be considerably reduced. Those who arenot technically inclined should feel free toignore this paragraph.Bill Potts (1946-55)WebmasterCOMMITTEE PROFILESMick Bowman (1954-61)B. Phil. NewcastleMy formative yearswere spent at Crossgates,which in thosedays was a long threemiles from town. I waseducated for a shorttime at Lisvane beforereturning to SeamerPrimary where I wasone of four boys, EddieWilmore, Alan Haig and Martin Wilson (latermy Best Man), to move on to the High School.The first five years, 1954-59, were spent at theold school where my father, George, and twoUncles, Douglas and Kenneth Coe, had beeneducated. I was surprised as a first former todiscover how many of the staff had taughtthem and were still there. I also met andplayed rugby with Peter Taylor whose fatherhad been at school with mine playing soccertogether in the days before rugby was established.My sixth form years were at the newschool where I received an invitation to theOpening Ceremony. This was as a member ofthe Caretaker’s cleaning staff; I had spent thesummer holidays working with them preparingthe new building.On leaving school I went to what is now SheffieldUniversity and later to Newcastle Universitybefore spending thirty seven yearsworking in secondary schools in Cleveland.I hope to celebrate thirty eight years of marriageto Vivien this summer having met her atcollege. We have a son and daughter and agrandson and granddaughter.At the moment I am enjoying the freedom ofretirement and am spending a lot of time ongolf courses taking pleasure in the exercisebut suffering extreme stress when confrontedevery few yards by a little white ball with amind of itʹs own.Ron Gledhill (1936-44)After leaving schoolin 1944 I joined theRoyal Corps of Signalsand served inIndia, Malaya andThailand as a WirelessOperator.In 1948, and until1951 I studied at HullTechnical College,qualifying as a Graduate Member of the Instituteof Electrical Engineers, and in due coursebecame a full Member and a Chartered Engineer.From 1951 to 1957 I was employed by YorkshireElectricity in Hull, initially as a GraduateTrainee, and subsequently with the EngineeringStaff.Between 1957 and 1965 I was with BlackburnAircraft Ltd., later to become Hawker SiddleyAviation; later still to be known as BritishAerospace. I worked on Buccaneer aircraft asan Electrical Design Engineer and was eventuallypromoted to the post of Chief ElectricalDesign Engineer, based in Brough.From 1965 to 1968 I lectured in Electrical Engineeringat Hull Technical College. It wasthere that I discovered just how much I didNOT know. It is true to say that the best way

to learn a subject is to teach it.I moved to Sunderland in 1968 and lecturedthere until retirement in 1989. Upon retirementI returned to Scarborough, my hometown.I have been involved in sport all my life andhave enjoyed Soccer, Cricket, Tennis,Squash, and latterly, Golf. I have never excelledat any of them, but playing sports hasalways kept me fit. In my bachelor days inHull I often played Squash eight or ninetimes a week, and I, and after a game, theHull Brewery Company, both benefited. Istill play Golf, to use the word loosely, withmy handicap going from 2 to 22 in recentyears. I still hit them fairly straight, thoughnot so far.John E Mann (1950-56)At the last AGM of the Association PeterRobson turned hisbaleful gaze upon meand reminded me thatI had not yet fulfilledmy obligation, as anew Committee Member,to pen a history ofmy life. For a momentI thought that he wasabout to condemn me to a period of detentionfor my tardiness, but my abject apologysaved me from this fate.8In preparation for this piece of autobiographicaljournalism I first re-read the glowingpages of past issues of Summer Timesand it quickly dawned upon me that therewas no possibility whatsoever of my beingable to compete with the many and variousluminaries whose histories had alreadygraced these pages. After all, my name wasnot engraved on any cup or shield, nor wasit gilded on any Honours Board. Who couldpossibly be interested in the life story of suchan average student? Why on earth wouldanyone wish to waste his precious time readingof the exploits of a boy who resided inthe bottom half of his form for most of hisHigh School career? However, bear withme. After all, we do need to fill 64 pages ofeach edition!My first, and purely personal, claim to fameis that I am the only student that I am awareof, who both sat and passed the 11-plus examinationstwice. Originally I sat it whilstmy family and I were living in the West Riding.At the end of the summer term wemoved to Scarborough and when my successin the exam was published I duly applied fora place at Westwood. The North Riding EducationCommittee, in its wisdom, advisedmy parents that at the age of 10 years I wastoo young to attend such an illustrious establishmentand so I was condemned to spend awasted year at Gladstone Road Junior Schoolin the clutches of a fearsome harridan namedMiss Binns. However, the Boys’ High Schoolwas not to escape its responsibilities so easilyand I duly took and passed the paper a secondtime.In September, 1950, therefore, I presentedmyself at Joey Marsden’s emporium for furthereducation. With a new haircut, a freshlyscrubbed face and a blazer two sizes too bigfor me (so that I could grow into it) I enteredthat imposing building. My first day was arevelation. I was bushed twice and wenthome sporting a brand new tear in thepocket of my brand new blazer. Needless tosay, my parents were none too pleased and Iwas not overjoyed at the thought of goingback to school for a second day.During the following 6 years most of theMasters worked hard, without much success,at trying to educate me. In retrospect I realisethat I succeeded in those lessons where Ihad some affinity with the individualteacher, and have fond memories of LesBrown, both Rice and Price, Costain, PikeRichardson, Taylor, Hov, Gerry Hinchliffeand dear old Pop Francis. Both Zenner andDai Liddicott were dismissive of my paltry

9attempts at Physics and Chemistry, I was extremelywary of Bradley (with good cause)and so fearful of Bon that I refused to takeGerman in the Second Year. Kate Liddicott,Dai’s youngest daughter is a good friend tomy wife these days. She is a lovely lady, witha wicked sense of humour. I wonder wherethat came from? Must have been her Mother!I enjoyed cricket, but was not very good at thegame. My slow, left arm bowling was waywardand served only to improve the averagesof my opponents. When batting, I was physicallyincapable of keeping my eye on the ball,so generally I did not bother the scorers toomuch. I was not fond of the blistering hot,followed by ice cold showers after Rugby onOliver’s Mount, so tried to stay away from theball and marauding forwards as much as possible.To no avail, of course, as Jock wouldinsist upon my being first scalded, and subsequentlychilled to the marrow, before beingallowed back down the hill to school.Recently, Mick Scott reminded me of one ofour escapades when coming down from theMount. We both agreed that late afternoonthat we would attempt to get back to schoolon our bicycles without either peddling orbraking. We made it to Filey Road withoutmishap and tore through the traffic lights atRamshill Road, they conveniently being ongreen. Unfortunately, lower down RamshillRoad a lollipop lady decided to step out intoour path. There was no way that either of uscould have screeched to a halt in time, so,screaming “Banzai” we flew past her, one oneither side of the horrified lady and carried on,at speed, over the Valley Bridge and down theslope to school. Our plan had succeeded. Neitherof us had peddled nor braked. The followingday we were called into Joey’s Officeand duly thrashed. The lollipop lady had hadher revenge.The only other sporting memory is of the timethat I tackled Jock. As usual, I had been spendingthe afternoon as far away from the actionas possible, when, horrified, I saw Jock, balltucked tightly into his armpit, racing up thepitch, heading for the touch- line. Even thoughI was some way away from this chargingHighlander, there was no one closer. I pretendedthat I was unaware of his thunderingapproach, but some idiot screamed at me to dosomething. Dreading the thought of gettinganywhere near Jock, but more afraid of mycompatriots’ rage, I made a slanting run acrossthe field and into Jock’s path. It was the best,the purest tackle, my arms tight around Jock’sthighs, my shoulder hard into his buttocks.We crashed to the floor, the inevitable trysaved. Jock picked himself up from the floor.“I didn’t know that you could tackle like that,Mann,” he said. I was swollen with pride,even more so when congratulated by my Captain.However, it was a big mistake. From thatday on Jock played me in every position, hadme kicking for conversion, and was continuallyscreaming at me to run faster and tackleharder. I actually began to enjoy my rugby,but continued to attempt to escape thoseshowers.Towards the end of my school career Joeycommanded me to his office. “Now then, lad,”he said, sucking on his pipe. “What do youintend to do with yourself when you leaveschool?” I hadn’t the foggiest idea! He shookhis head, sorrowfully. “Why don’t you becomea teacher?” This took me completely bysurprise. Me? A teacher? He must have mistakenme for someone else. “I think that Icould get you into St. John’s,” he opined. Regretfully,I declined his offer. “Then whatabout the Law?” For a moment I saw myself inpowdered wig and flowing cape, condemningthe guilty and freeing the innocent and beautifulwidow. “Do you think I could really passall those exams, Sir?” I wondered. Joey wasobviously startled by this remark, but slowlythe penny dropped. “Nay, lad,” shaking hishead sadly. “I didn’t mean a lawyer, I meant apoliceman!” The Mann who fell to earth!Joey suggested that I sit the Civil Service Examination,which I did, leaving school in 1956,and subsequently, working in the Reading

10Room at the British Museum. The library employed,seemingly, at least two men for eachand every job. Subsequently, there was littlefor me to do, and I quickly learned that if Ivolunteered to work in the private rooms andstudies or the most distant galleries I wouldbe left to my own devices for the day. I spentthe next 9 months or so reading first editions,studying rare manuscripts and getting verydrunk on scrumpy in the pubs in South Kensington,Chelsea and Earls Court. I earned apittance and could afford to eat lunch in theMuseum canteen infrequently, being forced tosupplement my diet with Sandwich Spreadsandwiches. Patrick (Lou) Henry, a chumfrom school, was a neighbour, and, together,we would, on occasion, frequent RonnieScott’s and other havens of academia in Soho.Boredom set in and, knowing that I would becalled up for National Service, I volunteeredfor The Royal Air Force, resigned from theBritish Museum and spent the late summerawaiting my call-up living in Paris and workingin the kitchens of the Hotel George Cinq.Thanks to Les Brown my schoolboy Frenchquickly improved, although many of thephrases learned were not in any French-English dictionary, particularly those deliveredby the chefs. The vin ordinaire was freelyavailable in the kitchens, but no matter howmuch was guzzled down, no-one ever appearedthe worse for wear; it was so stiflinglyhot in those kitchens and the pace of work sofrenetic that the wine simply oozed out ofyour pores and into the soupe du jour! I doremember, however, on one occasion, a souschefchasing a waiter with a threatening meatcleaver, but that was simply a difference ofopinion.I joined the RAF in the autumn of 1958, didmy basic training at Bridgenorth, volunteeredfor aircrew and went down to the Isle ofWight for selection. My application was, regretfully,turned down. I just did not have thenecessary aptitude to be entrusted with such apiece of valuable machinery as an aeroplane.I trained in Air Traffic Control at the RoyalSchool of Navigation at Shawbury, and oncompletion of training was posted to HongKong. I soon realised that there were numerousopportunities available to enable me toescape the drudgeries of Service life. Sportwas one. I volunteered for both the rugby andcricket teams, and, occasionally, when theywere desperately hard up for players I wasselected. These forays not only took me toother Army and RAF installations in the Colony,but also to Singapore, Malaya and Korea.I learned to sail, sub-aqua dive and, for relaxation,took A-levels. Every now and then, ofcourse, I had to work, but even then it waswith the civilian Air Traffic Authority at KaiTak airport where I learned to play wickedlyserious Poker. I had a wonderful time andwas horrified when I realised that I wouldsoon be returned to Blighty’s sunny shores.Fearful of this I signed on for a further year onthe clear understanding that I could spend itwhere I was. And the RAF agreed! Duringthe next months I visited both Japan and thePhilippines courtesy of the USAF and countriesthat don’t even exist anymore; Siam andIndo-China, now of course, Thailand, Laosand Cambodia. One evening, walking downNathan Road in Kowloon to catch the StarFerry to Victoria Island where I was to meet avery attractive redheaded nurse from the militaryhospital on The Peak, I bumped intoKeith Watson (1950-55), walking in the oppositedirection. We had not seen each othersince Keith had left school. We passed eachother by with only the briefest of greetings, nomore than a brief hello. Callow youth! Inever saw Keith again, but have become agood friend of Gary, Keith’s elder brother,who now lives in New Zealand. Anne and Iwere in Melbourne in February of last yearand had hoped to meet up with Keith whowas living there, but Keith sadly died. Thatmakes this story somewhat more poignant.The last few weeks of my RAF career werespent at Acklington, near Newcastle uponTyne, firing either green or red Very flares at

13mitments.I played cricket for Scarborough from 1967to 1981 mainly in the second team but someseasons in the first XI. From 1975 to 1979 Icaptained the second team in the East YorkshireCup Competition. I was mainly a batsmanand scored over 5000 runs during mytime at Scarborough.I served on Scarborough Cricket Club maincommittee from 1977 to 1998, a continuousstint of 21 years, ending up as vice chairmanmainly to do with the cricket side of things.Before that I played at Cloughton and havenow returned there as Secretary.After I retired from Scarborough BuildingSociety I took a temporary seasonal job atthe Town hall helping in the cash officecounting and banking the cash from carparks etc.I am married to Kate and have a daughterNicola and a son Richard.(Editor: Further Committee Profiles willappear in future issues)FROM HERE AND THEREGeoff Pugh writes from B.C.Canada (1933-43)I thought that you might be interested inlearning how Don Potts’ and my own pathshave crossed over the years.After we both had left the Science 6 th Donwent into the RAF and I, after an intensive,but short Engineering course, joined theRNVR After demob it was up to St. Catharine’sCollege, Cambridge and then 12 yearsworking in Trinidad.In 1963 my family and I immigrated to Canada,finally settling down in Calgary, Albertain 1969. Our 13-year stay there wasspent in complete ignorance of the fact thatDon was also living in Calgary. After I retiredand had moved to the beautiful OkanagonValley in British Columbia, through amutual friend, we met again. Since then westill get together on occasion and e-mail eachother regularly. Unfortunately, I am unableto travel much these days.The May ’02 issue of the “Summer Times”has an interesting memoir by Les Hartzig onthe Chamonix 1938 school camp. That wonderful3-week camp remains strong in mymemory and in 1949 I returned to the campsitewhilst touring France by motorcycle.The water trough, so vividly remembered,was still there and still full of glacier-coldwater.It is many years now since I last visited Scarborough.Sorry to say, I am doubtful that Iwill be able to return and attend a reunionDinner, but please relay my best wishes toall Old Scarborians.Graham Rew writes fromLockerbie (1958-60)I only recently came across the OSA websiteand have enjoyed reading through the numerousarticles in the recent editions of SummerTimes which have stirred quite a few oldmemories. I was at SBHS from 1958-1960,starting at Westwood and leaving just over ayear after the move to Woodlands, when myparents moved to Scotland. After finishingschool in Girvan in 1965 I joined the RoyalBank of Scotland starting in Irvine. Duringmy banking career I worked mainly inbranches in Ayrshire, Glasgow and Dumfriesshireand finally opted for early retirementin 2000, while Manager at Lockerbie,where I moved with my family in 1988.Having seen the Whole School Group photographof 1959 in which I am featured I realisedafter finding my own copy that I haveanother version taken at the same time. Inmy copy Frank ‘Billy’ Binder’s arms are almostunfolded (sad that he was not able toenjoy a long and well deserved retirement).The strong sunshine on the day caused

14many eyes to close hence the reason moreshots were probably taken. I have meanwhilesent attachments to Bill Potts of the schoolphotograph taken at Westwood in 1958.I often wondered if anyone from my class of2A ever managed to convince NormanStoddard, our Form Master at the time, thatthe colour of a ‘red pillar box’ was in fact red.I always remember him for introducing me toa Russian gentleman by the name of‘Isoverof’ to whom I often refer when calculatingpercentages.Although my time at SBHS was short it createda lasting impression and I realised inlater years that I had to consider myself fortunateto have experienced what was a greatinstitution.My application for OSA membership is on itsway.Mrs Eileen Wood writesI would appreciate any information you cangive to me regarding an old pupil, DonaldStephenson OBE, CBE. I am researching thepossibility that he was a friend of TE Lawrence.I would be very grateful for any informationthat you can let me have.Andrew Straughan writesfrom Easingwold (1959-65)As a new user ʺon-lineʺ, I must say what atrue delight it has been to view the schoolphotoʹs on the OSA website. It is hard toimagine one left nearly 37 years ago - the picturesrecall vivid memories, all the namescome flooding back. Many thanks to thosewho have put so much effort into creating thissplendid pool of information.I wonder, do you happen to have a list of whois doing what, in my year? John Fielder forexample? It would be good to know how theyall fared.If one could have part of life over again mychoice would be SHBS - and to make muchmore of it second time around.P.S. Yours truly is standing immediately behindHWM in the ʹ59 school photograph!Richard Stevens writes fromKirk Michael, Isle of Man(1963-70)Good to receive the latest Summer Times. TheAlchemist photo has caused much interest itseems - I have a copy of the programme forthe performance - I will send you a copy -should help identify the remaining people.The tall one on the right is me - so you can atleast remove one question mark. I also havesome old rugby team photos that I will try tosend one of these days. There seems to be adisappointing level of contribution from myera at SBHS - 1964 to 1970 - rarely any messagesor articles - I recognise only one namefrom the list of emails published. One of thesedays I will pen a contribution.Mike Lester writes fromStaintondale (1949-57)Congratulations on a another stunning magazine.Have not had time to explore thoroughlyas yet, but will eventually. Is the ChristmasDinner members only or are wives and sweetheartsinvited?(Editor: Members only Mike. But othermembers have suggested opening up functionsin future years. There seems to be aminority in favour at present – but you willbe pleased to hear that there will be a jointdinner with the SGHS this year to whichspouses may be invited – see the enclosedorder form)Geoffrey Wilson writes fromBirmingham (1953-61)I have kept in occasional touch via my elderbrother, John D Wilson (circa 1944-51) whohas been a member for many years; thought itwas about time I started to ʹlook backʹ!

Denis Cooper writes fromThornton-le-Dale (1944-49)I would like to support the message from LenPlaxton. A visit to the old school at Westwoodis a very good idea. Perhaps it wouldbe possible to arrange one for next spring?Stan Halliday writes fromStowmarket (1949-54)Congratulations on the latest Mag ; who saidnostalgiaʹs not as good as it used to be? Sofar, Iʹve had a contact from Ted Lancaster,but no writ from Pete Hough. Should haveliked to have attended the dinner next week,but a previous engagement in Munich willprevent same. ( as you suspected, somethingto do with national security, but canʹt sayanymore, you understand ) David, in a previousmessage you talked about a way toobtain back numbers without the tedium ofdown-loading. Could you run that past meagain, when you have a minute ? Manythanks.(Editor: Stan refers to the CD version ofSummer Times which contains all issuessince 1999 together with instructions, computersoftware and an Index – all for £2)Gerald Harrison writes fromSan Diego, California(1939-45)Many thanks for the Centenary edition ofSummer Times. It is just great! Congratulationsto all involved in its publication.Jean and I had fully intended to attend theCentenary celebrations last June, but unfortunatelyI have had a severe health set backwhich has prevented me from any travel forsome time.I have recently been in communication withJohn Knighton, George Kent and StephenDay. It’s great to get in touch with other OldBoys once in a while.15Would it not be possible to publish a membershiplist? Anyone who did not wish tohave their details listed could be omitted, butI would think that there would be very fewof these. You could make a small charge forprinting and distribution costs. Such a listwould be invaluable for members, enablingthem to get in touch with each other, if theyso wished.Also, has the idea of a joint Boys and Girlsassociation been considered? I still think thatthat would be a great idea.(Associate Editor: A list of e –mail addresseswas published in the November 2002 edition.The Old Girls Association is now upand running and increasing its membershipevery day. We hope to hold joint functionswith the Ladies from time to time)Ray Muir writes from Cayton(1936-41)Hearty congratulations on the Novemberissue of Summer Times. I received it uponmy return from Bristol having visited my sonthere.Whilst I was down there I used his form toapply for tickets to both the Palm Court andLondon events. We discussed the pointsraised in your report about the continuanceof these two dates.Personally, I think that the present format isabout right, and although there may be meritin various regional events one has to rememberthat access to such venues is possiblymore restricted than to London, which isaccessible from all parts of the country. Ihave always enjoyed the London Luncheonand have usually managed to combine itwith a weekend break. This also suits mywife very well. There has been criticism ofthe cost of the meal, but major cities are notfar behind London prices. It must also besaid that the meals themselves are par excellence,in fact the last two, at the East IndiaClub and Mossiman’s were most enjoyableand I thought very good value.

16On the question of support for local eventsthroughout the year, I think that this dependsupon their nature having regard to the agerange. At my age I am very happy with thetwo main events as they are at present and Iwill continue to support them as long as I amable.Once again, my congratulations to the Committeeon the excellent work that they all dofor us.Ronald Hutchinson writesfrom Malvern (1945-53)Having been Head of History in a schoolwhose Head was GR Hovington I becameHead Master of Hanley Castle GrammarSchool in Worcester, which I turned into aComprehensive and discovered that LesBrown had taught there. I retired from the ratrace in 1991. I have a holiday home in Normandywhere I spend half the year, and amstill very happily married.(Editor: Ron’s article appears on page 44?)John (Dave) Hudson writesfrom Llanelli (1958-63)Although I still return to Scarborough four orfive times per year I have lost touch with allmy old friends. If anyone remembers me andwould care to get in touch my address is:-ERW DEG32, Greenfield TerracePontyberemLlanelli, SA15 5AWA brief resume of my life since leaving school:1963-69 An engineering apprenticeship withRolls Royce in Derby. Qualified as DesignDraughtsman. HNC Mechanical Engineering.1969-71 Bishop Lonsdale College, Derby(Nottingham University).1971-76 Teaching at Parkfields ComprehensiveSchool, Derby. (B..Ed)1976-2001 Teaching at Ysgol Rhydygon SpecialSchool in Camarthen, South Wales forchildren with behavioural difficulties. (Ishould say that most of my teachers at SBHSwould have said that I was eminentlysuitable for this kind of work!)John Hunter writes fromBrampton Cumbria(1941-46)Thank you for your invitation to join the OldScarborians and for the latest issue of SummerTimes. What a great read!The article about the Chess club broughtmemories flooding back. I was not a greatplayer nor was I able to attend after school ona regular basis, as I had to collect the eveningpapers from the Press Office and take them toour shop for the evening deliveries. I did,however, learn the basics. Frank Binder wasmy form master in my last year at school.Margaret, my wife, and I both enjoyed theOld Girls’ Reunion Dinner and look forwardto the next time. (Editor: See enclosed bookingform)My membership is long overdue, but mycheque will cover for a tie and CD. I am impatientto explore previous copies of SummerTimes.Mike Hunter writes fromEdinburgh (1959-66 )For Mr PottsYou must have been my physics teacher in the1960s, for which many thanks.I have two strong memories: you had degaussedminesweepers and told us that colourTVs, then a marvel, needed degaussing too; Icontested with you that it was possible for acar to decelerate at more than 1g.(Bill Potts replied: As David Fowler says, inhis reply, Iʹm old (67 today, as it happens),but not that old. If my father were still alive,heʹd be looking forward to his 98th birthdaynext May.The fact is that he fell apart (medically

17speaking) at the end of 1975 and diedwithin a short period (early January, 1976).His widow (and my stepmother), Priska,eventually married Jack Speight, whoseown wife died a few years after my fatherʹsdeath. They still live in the house at 32 LadyEdithʹs Avenue where I lived as a child(with an eight-year gap from 1941 to 1948).Jack Speight (who I sometimes refer to asmy step-stepfather) is now 81; Priska is 80.The house was built in 1935 by my UncleJack Fell [my motherʹs first cousin] and occupiedin early 1936. The price was £1400!Its market value today is probably morethan £150,000.Unlike my father, I agree with you that a carcan decelerate at more than 1G (not g, whichis the SI symbol for gram). It happens allthe time in head-on collisions.Incidentally, Iʹm one of a handful of OldScabs who went to university (ImperialCollege, in my case) and then dropped out.Notwithstanding that, I became a Fellow ofthe British Computer Society in 1969 (whileliving in Canada). Iʹm one of very few peopleto have achieved that status from outsideBritain.Unless I suffer a deceleration of many Gs, Iexpect to live much longer than my fatherdid. He suffered from asthma (as you mayremember) for most of his adult life. I canʹtknow for sure, but I suspect his poor medicalcondition (heart, kidneys, liver, all inbad shape) leading to his death may havebeen brought on by his fondness for a patentmedicine he took daily for his asthma,even after it had apparently (and spontaneously)ceased to be a problem. For a physicist,he made a surprising number of irrationaldecisions.David Fowler and I go back a very longway. While my father was doing his warwork, degaussing ships, my mother died.After a somewhat disappointing experiencewith a combination housekeeper/babysitter,whom he found recumbently entertainingan American serviceman on the sofa lateone evening, he sent my sister and me tolive with our maiden Aunt Mabel Cromack(of Scarborough Corporation Catering DepartmentFame) on Throxenby Lane. Thatwas early 1943. The Fowler family (parents,plus David and his sister, Phoebe) lived onThroxenby Grove. I was 7 and David was aprecocious 4-1/2. We both joined in streetgames with other kids in the neighbourhoodand I remember one particularlymemorable picnic organised by Davidʹsmother.)David Andrews writes fromLeicester (1958-63)Update on my situation. Taking early retirementfrom Ordnance Survey after 39+ yearsservice on 31st March 2003. Next appearancein the dole queue, (not ready for the pipe andslippers yet!)Rowland Bruce writes fromAdelaide, Australia(1949-54)Iʹm pretty sure you must be the D G Fowler,with whom I vied for Chemistry marks beforeI left to live in York in December 1954 Ifso, fancy getting in contact?(Editor: after the above approach from theFriends Reunited web site I contacted Rowlandand he replied:)You have it right. I lived in Heworth until Iwent to work in Huddersfield for ICI in 1957,but my parents lived in that house until 1972and I used to go ʺhomeʺ most weekends.You tried to persuade me to turn the metalwire clothes line into a dipole and reflector.I married in 1965 and we set up in Levennear Beverley. I was now a medical rep withBeecham Laboratories. Had a son there,b1966, moved to London in mid 68 when I

ecame responsible for Harley Street and theLondon teaching hospitals. Had a daughterthere born 1969. Pam and I emigrated to Adelaidein 1971, another daughter that year, whonow has 3 daughters of her own. Rob is unmarriedand doing well in Sydney with Telstra,Kate is divorced and no kids, and is inthe marketing department of one of our localfootball teams, which plays in the cup semifinalon Saturday.I got my licence, the equivalent of the G8 vhfone, in 1972, and my full one in 1974. (Editor:Radio Ham licence). I seem to remember youhad an Eddystone 640 receiver. I must admitthat I have lost interest over the last 12 yearsafter disillusionment with the way thingswere going. I did my best to be involved, beingthe Federal Councillor for the VK5 divisionof the Wireless Institute of Australia, theRSGB equivalent, and also the VK5 presidentfor several years, but it was terribly political,and after a feud between WA and NSW overthe direction of the WIA I resigned in 1993,and have not bothered since.I have had heart valve replacement surgerytwice, 1983 and 2001, the latter to replace thefirst replacement, and am now retired andtrying hard not to lose too much on the stockexchange! My sister still lives near Ravenscar,and Pam and I were last there in September2002. I sometimes wish we had stayed in Londonuntil retirement. Our house in Harrow isup for sale at the moment and they are asking£310,000. A nice tidy sum to return to Yorkshireand buy a replacement there!If it rings any bells, I used to knock aroundwith Ian Hunter, Ricky Ford. Pete Dawson,Mike Barker. Dave Pottage will probably rememberme. We played chess together. Ithought his cousin, (female) was the mostgorgeous thing I had ever seen when ArthurCostain had us sing in some combined schoolchoir event. I see Valerie Berryman is a memberof the Old Scholars. Not sure how thatwould come about, but anyway, she attendedthe same church and youth club as I, St18Columbaʹs in Dean Road. Billy Binder used tocome and visit me at Scholes Park (NathanSheen lived around the corner. Heʹs youngerof course, but his sister was our age. I thinkshe married Peter Emms,) when I was ill withrheumatic fever, (hence the heart trouble,)and Jock Roxborough was most upset that itinterfered with my blossoming career as aprop forward just as he decided I was goodenough for the U 14ʹs. That puts me in withRichard Hartley and Graham Thornton, I suppose.I notice Gerald Hinchcliffe is still goingstrong. He tried to teach me Latin, the onlysubject out of 9 that I failed at GCE O level.(Editor: I telephoned Gerald Hinchliffe –now 81 – in Nottingham as I could not recallhim teaching Latin. He told me that whenLatin masters left the school there was usuallya gap before a replacement arrived, andin those gaps Hov was “asked” by Joey totake senior Latin whilst Gerald was “asked”to take the 2nd and 3rd years. By the way,Rowland, I see from our records that you’renot yet an OSA member. Life membership isonly £10 Stg)OBITUARIESRaymond ASHFORD(1944-47)Beryl M Ashford writesI am sorry to advise you of the death of myhusband on February 14th 2002 just short ofhis 72nd birthday. His health had been failingfor some time, the end coming very suddenlyafter a visit to the theatre. He made it back tothe car and died, appropriately, in the drivingseat. Mercifully we had not set off!Ray attended Scarborough High School forBoys from 1944-47, then, after a spell in theRoyal Navy, he did a teacher training courseat St. John’s College York, graduating in 1954.Specialising in Physics and Maths togetherwith a knowledge of Radar gained from hisNavy days, he was drawn into the world ofTV and Radio and taught the apprentices at

19York Technical College. His own interests ledhim into the start-up of the computer revolutionand he ended up being a lecturer in ComputerStudies who knew the science as well asthe art of his subject.A 2 year sabbatical in the early 70’s was spentin Libya with UNO helping to set up technicaleducation in Benghazi; a wonderful experiencefor all the family. On his return, he resumedhis career and studied with the OpenUniversity, gaining his degree in 1978.He retired from teaching at 60, but was prevailedupon by the NYCC to continue running,on a part time basis, a small service departmentfor schools all over North Yorkshire,helping them to keep their computers going.This grew into what became a very successfulbusiness, and Raymond was in his element.However, retirement came at last, with manylong days and nights spent at his new computer.Then one day, whilst visiting his sisterin Nottingham we saw a copy of the OSAmagazine. (brother-in-law, John Crabtree, wasa member). Ray was thrilled to read of thedoings of the Old Boys and staff of his era.Tales of Billy Binder & Co. were repeatedendlessly with great enjoyment. He joined theAssociation, bought the tie and looked everyoneup on the Internet.I am sure that you will be glad to know howmuch enthusiasm was raised at this addressfrom your excellent publication - a veritabletreasure chest of memories for my dear husbandduring his last year or so.I apologise for missing the deadline for the2002 editions with this obituary, but I couldnot face up to writing it until now. I realisethat it is of rather a rambling nature but I expectthat you will exercise your editorialprivilege and treat it accordingly.William Horsley BARKERKnown to his friends as Bill, he died in Februaryaged 98.He owned a bus company called Horsley’s inNorth Marine Road but sold it after the SecondWorld War.He was a founder member and secretary ofScarborough Flower Fund Homes before retiringin March 1987 and a Rotarian for manyyears.He leaves a widow and two sons.Derek BIELBY, DFC(1934-39)We were advised of Eric’s death but havereceived no report. We understand Derek wasfrom Pickering and a retired dentist.Pierre GANGUET (1964-65)Stuart Marriott writes...Old Scarborians and members of staff whowere at Woodlands in 1964-65 will rememberour French assistant of that year, PierreGanguet. They will also be saddened to hearof his death, in 1999, at far too early an age.Pierre came from the University of Grenoblewhere he had been a member of the universityski team, hardly the most appropriatetraining for the North-East of Yorkshire, buthe loved his time in Scarborough. He lodgedwith me at our house in Falsgrave Road. Weused to go fishing and walking together, butmuch of his spare time was spent with thoseother freewheeling teachers, Gordon Woodand Mike Owen. He was also a great favouritewith some of the younger staff members atthe Girls High School. Pierre topped off hisyear by joining staff and sixth formers on theLyke Wake Walk.We remained in touch until the end. On ourvisits to France we always had to take a supplyof Guinness, Dublin bottled, which Pierreheld in high regard.In the late 60’s, after qualifying as a teacher ofEnglish he married Sophie Sarazan. His first“posting” as a teacher was to Givet, where, heclaimed, they lived on apples and whateverfish that he could catch in the River Meuse.Eventually they settled in Orleans, but Pierre

20never lost touch with his home village of St.Bonnet in the department of Hautes Alpes.He never lost his passion for fishing andhunting, French style.We knew that Pierre was showing signs ofdiabetes but was coping. Then, in the summerof 1999, we learned that he had developedcancer of the pancreas and that it haddefeated all attempts at therapy.Graham JONES (1936-44)Graham Jones died on 4 th October, 2002, andleaves a widow, Marjorie (nee Atkinson). Thefuneral took place at the Church of St Nicholas,Ganton on Friday, 11 th October, 2002.He attended school at the same time as PastPresident Ron Gledhill (1936-44) and wasinvolved in running the GBL restaurant - atone time in Huntriss Row.John MACKENZIE-ROLLINSONJohn Mackenzie-Rollinson died in March2003 aged 49. He attended Northstead PrimarySchool and the High School for Boys.He was a solicitor at Medley Drawbridgebefore working at Bedwells solicitors from1981 to 1987. He later ran a telecommunicationsfirm which installed telephonesin offices, schools and homes.He leaves a widow, who is daughter of aformer Mayor of Scarborough Liz Mackenzie,and two sons.Brian SPEAK (1936-41)Colin Hurd writesBrian Speak was born on the 1st May 1924and attended the High School between 1936-1941. He died suddenly on 17 January 2003.After serving in the Fleet Air Arm during thewar he joined Scarborough Building Societyas a cashier in 1948 and progressed to ChiefExecutive in 1972. He retired in 1984 althoughhe remained a Director until 1992. Hewas very much involved with St John’s RoadMethodist Church for upwards of 40 years.He also enjoyed watching cricket and was aLife Member of the Scarborough CricketClub. His wife pre deceased him but heleaves 4 children, one of whom, Phil, is amember of the Association.Denis SAUNDERS (1936-43)Ron Gledhill writesSandy, as he was always known at school,passed away on 16th February 2003.I first encountered him in the Infants of GladstoneRoad School; I was nearly 5 years oldand he would be 6. He was a year ahead ofme as we progressed to the Juniors, and Ithen caught up with him in 1936 when weboth went to the High School.As a youngster he was a keen ball player –tennis, cricket, rugby - but his first love wassoccer at which he excelled. If a ball was beingkicked around in the playground youcould be sure that Sandy would be there!He played in the school teams, and was selectedto play for the England ATC team in1943.Sandy then went into the RAF in 1944 andqualified as a Sergeant Signaller – and playeda lot of cricket and football! In 1945 the demandfor aircrew dwindled and Sandy wenton an MT course. He told me a hilariousstory about when he was reversing a 3 tontruck. He was leaning out of the opendriver’s door, and he said with his quietsmile, “I fell out of the bloody thing. The MTSergeant was not very pleased.”On demob he went up to Oxford where hewas awarded a Blue after only 10 weeks. Hewas also appointed Football Captain. Whilstup at Oxford he contracted TB but recoveredto gain another Blue.After graduating he taught Geography for ashort period at a school at Westcliff-on-Sea,and then moved to Malvern College, wherehe eventually became a House Master.

21He married Eileen Thomlinson in 1952, whoregrettably died in 2002.After “retirement” from Malvern CollegeDenis was appointed Soccer Principal at theSchool of Excellence at Lilleshall and wasthere for 4 years.The highlights of his soccer career were anEngland Amateur Cap, a brilliant period inUniversity football, and then Captain of Pegasus.This superb Amateur team won the AmateurCup twice; in 1951 and 1953.His latter years were marred by ill-health andlosing Eileen in 2002 was a bitter blow.He was one of Scarborough’s famous sonsand will be sadly missed.Footnote from Ron Gledhill: My wife & Iattended the funeral at Malvern on 25th February2003 – I went as a friend and as representativeof the OSA.Eric Thomlinson writesThank you most sincerely for your condolencesand updates. Glad you have the obituaryfrom the Telegraph re Denisʹs Goldenyears in Soccer. My reminiscences of Denisare the upward looking view of a fourth/fifthgrader regarding this Tall, Handsome Ace inboth Sports and Academics. Very popularwith the girls… Dancing slowly and gracefullyin the centre of the floor at the Royal orthe Spa…We did have several very enjoyable meetingsover the years with them both in Malvern andin Florida.He was a fine Man , a Gentle Man, a SuperSportsman, my Brother in Law. He will bemissed by many!!from the Daily TelegraphDenis Saunders, who has died aged 78, wasone of the last of the Corinthian-style schoolmasterfootballers.He twice captained Pegasus FC to victory inthe FA Amateur Cup, in 1951 and 1953, theonly occasions when an amateur club drew100,000 spectators to Wembley. The team,drawn from past and present Oxford andCambridge players, enjoyed a brief but meteoricexistence after the war. Saunders, a slim,strolling wing-half, appeared in its first matchin 1948, and in its last in 1963, when Pegasusplayed against Marston United in the OxfordshireSenior Cup.Dennis Fowler Saunders was born on December19 1924 and went to Scarborough HighSchool, where he was a keen rugby player. Hetrained as a navigator for the RAF, with whichhe started to play football seriously; but thewar ended before he could see action.Saundersʹs enthusiasm for football was fuelledwhen he went up to Exeter College, Oxford.There he joined a group of relativelymature undergraduates, including the centrehalfKen Shearwood, as well as Tony Pawsonand John Tanner, who, like Saunders, were togain amateur international caps for England.These four were to be cornerstones of the newclub, which reflected those ethical standardswhich the Corinthians amateur club had establishedat the beginning of the century.A scratch team, playing in no league and unableto get together each season until after theuniversity match in December, Pegasus had aprecarious existence from the outset. YetSaundersʹs equanimity and benign disciplinewere a key factor in an astonishingly rapidrise to the forefront of the game.In their first season, Pegasus reached theAmateur Cup quarter-final, losing to Bromley.When they won the cup two years later, Saunderswas carried off the field on the shouldersof his team after their 2-1 victory over BishopAuckland. Some considered the performance,masterminded in midfield by Saunders, JamesPlatt and John Dutchman, to be technicallysuperior to the FA Cup Finalʹs professionalencounter a week later between Newcastle

22and Blackpool.In those days there was little incentive foroutstanding amateurs to turn professional fora maximum wage of £15 a week. SaundersʹsWembley prominence earned him his onlycap a month later, in a 3-2 victory over the fullFinland national side. Two years later, Saundersled Pegasus to a record 6-0 victory overHarwich. By then he had become a geographymaster at Malvern, where he also took chargeof football training. His influence was immediate.The school went unbeaten in four seasons,and, between 1956 and 1978, the OldMalvernian side won the Arthur Dunn Cupnine times.The winning team of 1957 included Ian (laterLord) MacLaurin who, in his memoirs, recalledplaying as a schoolboy against OxfordCentaurs; following a goal, MacLaurin hadrun to embrace the scorer, only to receiveSaundersʹs sotto voce rebuke: ʺDonʹt ever dothat again, or Iʹll cut your hand off. Youʹrethere to score goals, not to make an exhibitionof yourself.ʺMacLaurin observed that, while he wouldnever have been much of an academic, ʺI didlearn a lot from sport. If anything helped toshape my future, it was two masters at Malvern,George Chesterton (a cricketer forWorcestershire) and Denis Saunders.ʺSuch was Saundersʹs reputation that, in 1984,he was invited by the Football Association tobe academic headmaster at their new schoolof excellence at Lilleshall, Shropshire, in partnershipwith Dave Sexton, the director ofcoaching. His proteges there included AndyCole.In his history of Pegasus, Ken Shearwoodwrote that he never knew a player with acalmer disposition than Saunders: ʺHeseemed to have all the time in the world tocollect and do what he wanted with the ball.ʺFor many years Saunders contributed schoolsʹfootball match reports to The Daily Telegraph.Denis Saunders, who died on February 16,was predeceased by his wife Eileen. He issurvived by a son and daughter.(Editor: In the accompanying 1943 SBHS 1stXI photo Denis Saunders appears 3rd fromleft, front row, next to HW Marsden)

23Peter TOY (1928-32)Doug Owen writesPeter Toy, who died recently at the age of 88,was a gregarious character who spent hisentire career, with the exception of his warservice, in the Post Office. He started as amessenger boy and graduated to counterclerk.Like most Post Office personnel in the 1930’she was in the Territorial Army. When warbroke out in 1939 he was called up into theRoyal Corps of Signals, commissioned andsent to France with the British ExpeditionaryForce. Peter was evacuated from Dunkirkand after several years service came out ofthe army with the rank of Captain.Returning to the Post Office he transferredfrom the postal business to telecoms as aSales Representative in the Bridlington area.He has various subsequent appointments,some in Lincolnshire.Peter’s final appointment was as Chief SalesSuperintendent in the North Area of London,where he and I met up again and formany years enjoyed both the OSA Londondinners and Midlands dinners together.Besides being a keen golfer he was an ardentcricket enthusiast, member of MCC and MiddlesexCounty Cricket Club and, not least,Scarborough Cricket Club. He came to Scarboroughregularly for the Cricket Festivaland we enjoyed many a drink in the pavilionbar.As a boy Peter had been in the ELO (Earl ofLondesborough’s Own) Scout Troop and heloved to reminisce with other former boyscouts of the troop.A bachelor, Peter lived for many years in aprivate hotel in Muswell Hill until his retirementwhen he bought a flat in Enfield. Towardsthe end of his life he moved to NorthWales to be near his sister, but when his illnessbecame more severe he moved to a privatenursing home in Llangollen where hedied.Peter Toy had many friends throughout thecountry and will be sadly missed.Bernard CROSBY (1922-26)We are advised of the Reverend Crosby’sdeath. An obituary will appear in the nextissue.John YEADON (1945-53)We were advised of John’s death but have sofar received no obituary.MEMORIESMEMORIES OF A GIRL ATTHE BOYS’ HIGH SCHOOLby Gwyneth FosterMy father (A.E. Jones, M.A.) taught at theBoys’ High School from 1944 to 1958. He wasborn on 23 rd October, 1895 and died on 2 ndMay, 1974, the same year as Joe Marsden. Afew months before he died he appeared onITV’s “This is your life, Vic Feather,” whomhe had taught at Hanson High School forBoys in Bradford. In 1932 my father wasmade a Fellow of the Royal Historical Society.These are some of my memories of ourtime in Scarborough.The first Christmas that we spent in Scarboroughwe were surprised on 23 rd by a largegroup of sixth formers singing carols. It wasan impromptu choir who serenaded the staffone night and, on Christmas Eve as many ofthe town hostelries as possible. They werecollecting for the Lady Mayoress’ BenevolentFund and asked my friend and I to jointhem. We were made very welcome at all thehouses and were generally offered refreshments.There was one objection, though,when we discovered that the Methodists atthe front were refusing alcohol on behalf ofthe whole group, but some gentle elbowingresolved the problem. Bon Clarke was visitedeach year, but we were never offered the

24cold cocoa for which he was famous, nor agame of table tennis. He always asked for“Nazareth,” but as we never had time to rehearseanything our rendition was never verygood. Some years later I made a point of learningthe carol and dedicated it to Bon’s memory.We would sing “Christians Awake” at thestroke of midnight on the South Cliff and thenwend our weary way homeward.I remember a fish and chip supper which Joeyhad provided in the Dining Hall after a performanceof “Hamlet”. After supper we areasked to help with the washing up. There weredozens of plates to wash but we enjoyed theevening so much that we turned up for dutyfor both the Saturday matinee and eveningshow. We had a marvellous time.“H.M.S. Pinafore,” under the direction of MrCostain, was a great success, but three eveningperformances and a matinee was quite somethingeven though, at the time, it seemed effortless.When Cossie put on a production of“Merrie England” at The Open Air Theatre, thefirst post war performances there, they got thepriorities right when they opened the firstscene with, “Thank you Master Shakespeare,thank you Mr. Costain.” I was rather shy ofthe Costains, but when invited to tea by them,he smilingly said, “Do you like FatherBrown?” and switched on the Light Programme.Ferdie Freeman was tutoring me at Maths as Ihad carried a “class exam” for two years in athree year Chemistry course and couldn’t affordto fail again and so lose my degree. Comingfrom his home one evening, and whilstwaiting for the bus to Ayton I overheard agroup of boys swopping accounts of their recentexperiences at Juvenile Court. One worthy,in a strong Scarborough accent declared,“He says now I’m going to fine you four andthrupence and he bangs the table with his littletoffee hammer and says, and don’t you go anddo it again. I wonder what they do with allthose fines? I’ll bet the Mayor and the wholeCorporation go down on to the Foreshore andblow it all on shrimps and winkles!”Pike Richardson, unfortunately, suffered frommy clumsiness. One day, after Speech Day, wewere invited to tea with the staff. Whilst holdinga cup of tea I was introduced to Pike. Smallas he was he had a mighty handshake, whichresulted in my spilling the entire contents ofthe cup all over his best suit. I was so embarrassed!We always marvelled at Joe Marsden’s strongconstitution. He always found the hard andtasteless school pies quite digestible, eventhough everyone else always left them uneatenon their plates.Joey’s tact, or lack of it, was quite legendary.One boy who always came to school on a motorcycle and who had sight in only one eye,and was therefore, deemed to be at some risk,was asked by Joey, “…..er, is your eye glass?”To Mr Freeman with his arm injured by gunshotwounds and supported by and fastenedto, a large metal frame, was asked, “Do youthink it’ll have to come off?” Another classic!Commenting on the suitability of the stageblocks being used as scenery for the Captain’ssoliloquy in Act 2 of “H.M.S. Pinafore,” “Getthose things moved! It looks as if Appleton’ssitting on a damned bucket.”MEMORIES OF A GIRL AT THEGIRLS’ HIGH SCHOOLby Joy Hodgson (nee Youle)On a recent visit to my step-brother John Corradine(1949-54) in Wroxham, I was very interestedin his collection of Old Scarboriansmagazines as they brought back many happymemories. I attended SGHS from 1939-46 and Ienclose some photos taken at the harvest campat Myton-on-Swale in 1943. A small group ofgirls attended, principally to assist with domesticduties, but I remember many occasionswhen we were delivered in an open-backedlorry to the fields to pull carrots and flax, collectpotatoes and stook barley sheaves. In 1943,I think, boys and girls rehearsed and presented

25a play, whose name I cannot remember,though I do recall my character was calledPoppae! Mr Isherwood was in charge and MrMarsden visited, as shown in the photograph.Another activity in which we were invited tojoin the boys was a ballroom dancing class,held after school in the hall at Westwood andconducted by Mr Isherwood. His partner forthe demonstrations was Mrs Rice and themusic was always Victor Sylvester!Best wishes to your magazine and to manyfriends from “the old days”.(Editor: I’ve done a little research Joy. Beloware the names of those attending, together witha piece, “Dinner At Myton”. I’ve also found anarticle on this particular camp . We don’t haveroom to reproduce it here but a copy is on it’sway to you.)List of Myton CampersForm VI: Davison, Davies, Witty, Armstrong,more, Pittam, Dunning. Form VL: Capes,Stead, Whittleton, Wood. Form VU: Bray.Form IVL:_Appleton, Barrett, Foster, Hall,Fewster, Thomlinson, Knox. Form IVU Bradley,Christian, Pennock, Ayress, Read, Pearson.Form IIIL: Bagshaw, Francis, Mercier.Sharp, Form IIIU: Allaker, Cooper R. V., Enevoidsen,Grime, Hewett, Smith P., Willis,Winspear, Scriminger. Form IIIA: Jefferson,Partridge, Temple. Form IIL: Feather, King,Melton, Nickson, Parish. Form IIU: Appleby,Clayton, Daniel, Hargrave, Reay, Sothcott,Liddiatt. Girls’ High School: Vivien Young,Wendy Ramm, Joy Youle, Rita Lancaster,Sheila Showers, Flora Miliner, Sheila Rayner,Barbara Atkinson, Enid Sykes, Kathleen Williams,Eileen Cousans, Audrey Watson, MargaretWilliamson, Betty Sewell, PamelaLangstreth. Girls’ High School Staff: MissesDriver, Howells, Higgs, Adcock, Mrs. Boyes.And also Misses Cameron and Stephenson, ofNewcastle Domestic Science College.SBHS Staff: Mr C Isherwood (Master inCharge), Messrs Marsden, Freeman, Johnson,Taylor, Rossington, Liddicott, McNicol,Hanes, Stoddard, Wallhead, Mr and Mrs Wilmut,Mrs. Rice.DINNER AT MYTONThe backroom boys had thought up anotherpaying ramp,They rounded up Scarborough’s schoolboysand stuck ‘em in a camp,It was raining every evening, so we dined outin the damp,It was lovely down at MYTON on the farm.They brought two domestic students fromDurham on a course,They made good Yorkshire pudding butsome seniors grabbed for yours,So when we wanted dinner, why we dragged‘em back by force,Above: The Myton-on-Swale Harvest camp to which Joy Hodgson refers, and, right, Cyril Isherwood

It was lovely down at MYTON on the farm.26There was a funny fellow there, I think theycalled him Joss, And when the farmer saw himhe was really at a loss,So he bunged a halter on him, ‘cos he thoughthe was a hoss,It was lovely down at MYTON on the farm.But life down there at MYTON wasn’t reallybad,They brought a bevy of High School girls andwe felt very glad,If you cursed ‘em down your table you were afrightful cad,It was lovely down at MYTON on the farm.We had a bearded chappy on the camp, calledIsherwood,And in “One Night at Nero’s” there it wasindeed quite good,But when he served our dinner it got mixedup with the pud,It was lovely down at MYTON on the farm.We worked hard in the fields all day, it reallywas a bore,But on sitting down to dinner it weren’t doneto ask for more,For they blamed every shortage on this tantalizingwar,It was lovely down at MYTON on the Swale.MEMORIES OF STODby John Rice (1947-56)His relentless cheerfulnessmay have been, onoccasions, irritating tohis colleagues, but NormanStoddardʹs manyvirtues were readilyacknowledged, and forus boys there was nevera dull moment when hewas around. He didnʹttake us for Maths, but he filled in from time totime for Pike, and when this happened eventhose who werenʹt much good at the subjectperked up and enjoyed themselves. The secretwas, of course, the humour. While other teacherstried their hardest to amuse, with Stod you felt italways came naturally. Some of his jokes werestraight out of the gag-book. He had a good supplyof riddles too, and there was one he wouldinvariably trot out when the subject was logarithms(it was mentioned recently in SummerTimes). As far as I remember, it had something todo with sines and cosines: ʺWhy does a mousewhen it spins?ʺ I knew the answer to this one,because Iʹd come across it in the same book thatStod must have had, and its pointlessness hadstruck me in much the same way it must havestruck him. The answer, as no doubt every OldScarborian of that vintage will know, is, ʺBecausethe higher the fewer.ʺ No, it doesnʹt make anysense at all, and presumably it isnʹt meant to. ButStod thought it a useful aide-mémoire.One of the extra-curricular jobs that Stod undertook,quite apart from games, camps and otheroutdoor pursuits, was helping to run the tuckshop.One day a rumour went round during themorning that there would be a delivery ofdoughnuts straight out of the bakerʹs oven intime for the mid-morning break. Ferdie Freemanwas selling them off a trolley in the corridor, butfor some reason we didnʹt notice him and soqueued up as usual at the tuck-shop. ʺDo youwant doughnuts?ʺ asked Stod. ʺTheyʹre sellinglike hot cakes outside!ʺ When he realised what hehad said, he was beside himself with laughter.During my time in the 6th Form, Jock Roxburghdecided that it was pointless forcing those of uswho actively disliked the game and werenʹt anygood at it to play rugby. So he introduced shinty,reputedly a Scottish form of hockey played withunsophisticated sticks and a really hard ball. Onone occasion when Stod was refereeing ourgame, this ball struck one of our number in ahighly sensitive area of the anatomy. The poorchap was felled and lay on the ground, writhing.Stod rushed over and, having ascertained that hewasnʹt crippled for life, turned to the rest of usand said, ʺThatʹs called a cannon in anothergame, isnʹt it?ʺ Incidentally (this has nothing todo with Stod), I later realised that the game Jockhad introduced us to was an irregular form ofshinty, if indeed it was shinty at all. I was inter-

27viewed for a place at Queenʹs College, Oxford,by a fearsome Scot named McDonald, whoquestioned me about the games at SBHS.When I described our winter activity, heturned puce and exclaimed, ʺShinty? Thatʹs notshinty!ʺ I never did discover what it really was.Stod left SBHS for a time to become Headmasterof the Friarage School. As can be imagined,he was a popular Head, a fact that I was able toverify at first hand, since I spent a couple ofweeks there as part of my teacher training.Some of the staff used canes (there was nothingagainst that in those days), but to his creditStod exerted his authority by force of personalityalone. He was so attached to Scarboroughthat when the Friarage closed he wouldnʹtleave the town in search of another Headship,but chose to return to SBHS as an assistantmaster - much the best way for a man of histalents to be employed.FURTHER IMPERFECTMEMORIESby Peter Newham (1954-61)In the 1950s, whenblack and white televisionand the occasionaltrip to theOdeon representedthe ultimate in teenageexcitement (atleast to one who hadpreviously led a shelteredlife) the annualSchool Camp seemed to represent a wholenew spectrum in adventure and experience(although often more in anticipation andretrospect than in reality).Whether character-building or genuinelyeducational should perhaps be left for othersto judge but my memories of Torridon in thelater 1950’s (memory fails me as to the exactyear) certainly fall into the primitive at thetime but retrospectively enjoyable category,particularly to those of a then wimpish disposition(to which I plead guilty!)In fact, subsequent life long aversion to porridgeowes much to the memories of largecontainers of glutinous and nutty flavoured(whether deliberately or accidental I knownot) slurry reposing in a hay box overnight,to be dispensed in semi solid form the nextmorning as a nutritious and certainly fillingbreakfast!The only other memory of Torridon, apartfrom the wild and beautiful scenery, (towhich I have vowed many times to returnbut never achieved), and which is graven onmy mind is my one and only experience ofthe digging (and subsequent use) of latrines:use of which at night in the absence of anyillumination, demonstrated the need forfeats of acrobatic skill in balancing whilstsimultaneously holding a torch which I havenever before or since attempted.My recollection of subsequent Camps (evenCairngorm with a similar porridge resemblingthe slough of despond) was, as I recall,tempered by civilised toilet blocks andproper washing facilities, irrespective ofwhether these were used as frequently asintended.As an aside, the highlight of the Cairngormcamp was perhaps our assisting at a forestfire in the Rothiemurchus Forest, rather thanthe ascent of Cairngorm itself, which wassurprisingly rounded and unmountainlike,and which now with chair-lifts and majordevelopment has no doubt changed completely.On another theme – two under-rated teacherswho seemed to have attracted little attentionin Summer Times, but who with hindsightwere significant influences in our allegedlyformative years, were “Spike” Jonesand Mr. Giblett (the latter of whom I cannotrecall being honoured by a nickname).The former, mentioned in the previousMagazine in respect of his dictation of interminablenotes, alternated between a requirementfor an essay one week and a drawing

from the book on Greek/Roman history thesucceeding week. The educational value ofthese drawings still eludes me, and I have asignificant recollection of Baz Howes proudlypassing around his version of a drawing of thestatute of Adonis so ludicrously and exaggeratedlywell- endowed as to attract Spike’s redring round the offending area, giving noughtout of ten as a mark and a demand for a furtherdeflated version.My other recollection of Spike was personaland intended at the time to embarrass me intosubmission, in that having forgotten my homeworkI was marched up and down before theClass in a headlock, reciting the pressing needto not to repeat this transgression. Discipline ofthis nature (which may now offend the HumanRights legislation) was not unusual, thoughwhether it contributed to our long term educationor character is debatable. I can howeverstill recall the embarrassment. However, theinterest created by Spike in terms of attentionto detail and interest in history hopefully survived,an entirely different style to Biff Smith,who continued our historical education in analtogether different vein.Mr. Giblett, whose seemingly quiet and selfeffacingmanner concealed both firm disciplineand considerable communication skills (aIbeitthat I did not appreciate this at the time) didinspire attention. This was particularly the casewith Physical Geography and our explorationof Ordinance Survey sheets of a number ofareas in the British Isles, from Malham Tarn tothe Dorset coast, although my arrogant assumptionsas to the detailed knowledge acquiredas a result of this was seriously deflatedby subsequently seeing that in real life thesesettings bore little resemblance to my essaysand imagination.28He had, also, to my recollection, a keen interestin photography, demonstrating photographiclandscapes in class, and occasionally explainingabout the related developing and printingof these, and I can recall his encouragement atmy first attempt at contact printing from negatives,in respect of which I belatedly wish I hadpaid more attention at the time.To me, this A-Level Geography represented anarea of particular interest, apart from my Historyand French, but a Degree in Geographyappeared then only ultimately to lead to a careerin teaching, possibly becoming a TownPlanner, or perhaps branching into Geology, asubject far too scientific for me!In my wisdom or otherwise Law appeared tooffer a more interesting perspective – albeitthen a total stab in the dark - which brings meback to 21 st Century reality and where I amnow!RECOLLECTIONSby Derek McNaney (1952-60)The arrival of the November 2002 OSA SummerTimes has finally spurred me on to write ofsome of my memories of the High School andwhat I have been doing since.My start at the High School was somewhatignominious. I recall Joey Marsden bringingout a cardboard box every assembly in whichwere lost property items. I had only been at theschool as a lowly first former for about twoweeks when Joey reached into the box andheld aloft a cap. In his inimitable mumble hestated” Here’s a cap belonging to McNancy -would he please come and collect it”. Naturallyfor months after I was dubbed “Nancy”...not a good start.Other major recollections are:• when the ‘bad boys’ from 5A got their ownback on Bon Clarke and turned everythingupside down in his classroom., desks, blackboardetc.• dropping in to the Ramshill pub on the wayup to Oliver’s Mount to play rugby.• the time when Dave Chapman baited BiffSmith to the point where Biff Smith chargedup the aisle between the desks towards Davewho then had to make his escape out of one

29of the back windows and step out on thevery small ledge outside.• having chess lessons in the first year withBilly Binder whose frequent replies to requeststo go to the toilet were, “stick a corkin it boy”, or “tie a knot in it boy.” I wonderhow this reply would go down nowadays?• the times when my frequent merriment atBilly Binder’s famous mannerism “uh huh”got me in “chess gang”. This happened sooften that I eventually began to like thegame, and this led to my only real claim tofame, that of Senior Chess Champion in1958. My prize, a book on chess, is still oneof my prize ;possessions. Incidentally Billyalways used to comment when I was playingthat my style reminded him of Sutton, apast chess player in the club. I often wonderedwhat Sutton was like, and lo andbehold 45 years later whilst reading MichaelRines’ account of Billy Binders chesswrite-ups I found out. Sutton was “sticky,close and dour who delves in Tarrasch tothe eyebrows and conquers by sheer weightof study”, - so I am left wondering whetherthis comment was a compliment or not!In the previous issue, I notice that FredCrosby mentioned the Castle Quartet, withFred on piano, Frank Leppington clarinet, IanHunter on trumpet and myself on drums. Weused to play at the Mere Social Club evenwhen our repertoire was about half a dozennumbers. I was also interested to read ofMac’s Jazz Club as mentioned by ChrisFound. This took place in the basement ofCromwell Hotel, my parents’ establishment.This band was composed of: Ian Hunter onLEFT: L to R:Derek McNaney- drums;Mick O’Neil -piano;Mal Moore - banjo;Frank Leppington - clarinet;Ian Hunter - trumpetRIGHT: L to RBack:Peter Dawson, Rod Green(deceased), Ian Gofton; PeterSimpkin;Front:John Brinkler; DerekMcNaney; Derek Price; RichardHutton; Bern Lake.

30trumpet, Frank Leppington and Dennis Hitchon clarinets, Mick O’Neill and Mike Barmbypiano, Mat Moore banjo, and myself ondrums. We even made a couple of LP’s overthe few years we played there and individualsstill remind me of the club. Not every parentwould have allowed fifty or so kids to congregatedownstairs with the accompanying dinand I am eternally grateful to them.After leaving the High School, I attended AlsagerTraining College with Pete Simkin andBern Lake, then went on to teach in Leeds forfive years, playing in most of the jazz clubs atnight. I studied for a further year at WorcesterTraining College, then stuck a pin in theTimes Educational Supplement and appliedalong with my new wife Ann to a place calledForemost, in Alberta ,Canada.At the end of eight days on the liner fromLiverpool and a further three days by train,we finally arrived in Foremost. This townboasted 500 inhabitants, had mud sidewalks,tumbleweed bowling down the main streetand a temperature of 95 degrees. Quite achange from Leeds. We really enjoyed ourtime there in a beautiful modern school. Thecatchment area stretched down to Montana inthe States. Over the ten years that we spentthere, I became vice-principal and took twodegrees at the University of Lethbridge, a cityseventy miles distant. We returned to Scarboroughso that our two children could spendmore time with family.We spent the next five years in Scarborough,and although we had wonderful friends wefound we were unable to settle. We returnedto Canada where I taught for two years thenundertook post-graduate studies at the Universityof Alberta.I decided to enter private business and althoughI had vowed never to become involvedin the catering business I took ownershipof Mr. George’s Submarine, a fast foodbusiness in Red Deer. We became well knownfor subs and periodic jazz sessions.(Editor: See Vol. 39 page 62)Two years ago the business was sold and Ireturned to teaching university entrance biologyin a private school. Presently I am enjoyingwork as a rehabilitation practitioner forCatholic Social Services. I still play at the localjazz club, The Vat, and enjoy restoring AustinHealey 3000 sports cars. My wife still teachespart time . Our son Robert works as a telecommunicationstechnician. Our daughterClaire is a teacher.I would like to thank David Fowler and allinvolved in producing Summer Times, as Iknow that this has brought such a lot of happinessto Old Scarborians around the world.(Editor: Derek phoned when he arrived inScarborough and we arranged to meet – only48 years since the last time. “I’m in a rush.I’ll only be with you half an hour”, he said.At least two hours later we were still reminiscingbut had to break off as Derek’sbrother-in-law was waiting to collect him.One name which cropped up was that ofChris Yates who was last heard of in Gatesheadin the late 1970’s. Does anyone knowwhere Chris is?Derek then passed me a Christmas Card hehad received from a (non OSA) friend.I quote from the card: “I attended a reunion.We were sitting on a table with a senior Silkand it emerged that he was brought up inScarborough, so you can obviously envisagethe ensuing conversation. “Did you evercome across this bloke from Manor Road...” Isaid, “who played drums?”“Did his Mum let him run a Jazz Club in thecellar?” he said.It turned out he knew you well. A smallworld! Steve Williamson wishes to be rememberedto you. He spoke very favourablyof you – and the Jazz club.”)

GERALD HINCHLIFFEREMEMBERSSECONDS OUTI first met Bill Nicholson – of Tottenham Hotspur,England and Scarborough Boys HighSchool fame – in 1943. I was stationed in aninfantry-training unit where Bill was a physicaltraining instructor. He was a hard taskmaster.One day he decided to hold a Unit boxingcompetition, and on the basis of “you, you andyou” I was detailed to take part. I had done alittle boxing at school, but it was largely of thehit and miss variety and I was not really acompetent boxer.The day of the competition duly arrived. Thewhole unit sat around waiting to witness theslaughter of the lambs. My contest was late onthe bill and, whilst waiting, was able to discovermy opponent. His name was LawrenceBiss. We chatted and agreed that we would31put up a good show, but not hurt each other.A little shadow boxing, a few feigned left jabs,mixed with the occasional clinch would suffice.In due course the bell rang, the secondsdeparted and away we went. We pussy-footedthrough the first round and retired to our cornersunmarked and without having brokeninto a sweat.I was relaxing in my corner when Bill Nicholsonappeared at my elbow, obviously none toopleased by our efforts. In icy, menacing toneshe informed me that if I did not start fightingin the second round he would have me on a“fizzer”. My feet would not touch the groundand he would ensure that I was on “jankers”for all eternity. He then walked across the ringand delivered the same ultimatum to my opponent.It had its effect.As the bell rang we bounded from ourcorners and began to belt all hell out of eachBACK L to R: Gerald Hinchliffe; Hurrell; Flinton ; Williamson; Chapman; Sedman;CENTRE L to R: Unknown ; Roche; Leng; Pitts; Reeve;FRONT: Mann (Colin? John Mann says certainly not him!) ; Horrobin. (Editor: Can anybody name the unknown?

other. The adrenalin flowed. There was no finesse,no feinting, nothing at all fancy. With thecrowd roaring and baying for blood we wentinto non-stop battle. Soon enough, blood therewas, almost exclusively mine, although Lawrencewas sporting the beginning of a black eye.He was declared the winner. Afterwards, Lawrenceand I became firm friends but within ayear he lost his last fight and was killed in actionin France.Many years later Bill Nicholson visited theHigh School, (he was a friend of Brad’s) andalong with others I was introduced to him.There was not a flicker of recognition. Whyshould there have been? Along with Hov andStod we talked reverentially about Bill’s illustriouscareer in football. He still had the samesmouldering, saturnine look which I recalledfrom years earlier. It was no wonder that hebecame such a successful football manager.In a strange, paradoxical way after my illstarredbout with Lawrence I became interestedin boxing. Hov, shortly after my arrival at theHigh School, asked me if I would like to helphim with the boxing club. I agreed. We meteach week after school in that small gym downstairswith about twenty boys. I believe that weall enjoyed those evenings. Hov and I wereaware of certain basic techniques, (indeed weboth eventually qualified as boxing judges) andit was pleasing that so many boys developedskills way beyond whatever we had taughtthem. I suppose that we justified the activity asbeing character building. Certainly, being in thering with an opponent is a severe form of selfexamination,and that, at least, is a factor in selfdevelopment.Mainly, though, it was an enjoyableactivity, which fostered camaraderie.We held fixtures with other schools and, invariably,we won. There were some notablestars like Malcolm Dunwell who reached thefinals of the National schools boxing tournamentin London. There was “Alfie” Leng whosniffed as he boxed, but combined bravery anddetermination with great technical skill. I recallanother boy who was technically brilliant but32rarely won his bout, because, as he put it, hedid not like to hurt people. “Alfie” Leng wentout to Australia where he became professor ofAnimal Husbandry at the University of Newcastle,New South Wales. He beat the Australiansat their own game, becoming an internationalauthority on sheep. There were few Aussieswho could counter his left jab.The highlight of the boxing year was the interhouseboxing tournament for the Le Peton trophy.(Who, I wonder, was Le Peton?) A boxingring was acquired from Burniston Barracks,some soldiers came along to erect it in the Hall,and the whole school foregathered around it. Insome ways this foreshadowed the days of Theatrein the Round that were to follow. Joey Marsdenalways had mixed feelings about it all.Scarcely anything of his fingernails would beleft by the end of the afternoon. Pride in whatwas taking place was subordinate to his fears ofwhat might happen. At the end of it all, as hepresented the trophy to the winning team, hewould beam, and then retire to his room with asigh of relief.The finals produced many memorable contestsbut annually the one to savour and admire wasthe one between Stephen Williamson and JohnPitts. Two able (in every sense) and courageousboys, they were well matched. John, who was asouthpaw, created many problems for Stephenwho had an orthodox, upright stance. The outcomescarcely seemed to matter; it was theirdisplay, which remained in the memory.Stephen later became a distinguished criminallawyer, John a lecturer in music. I had thepleasure of meeting them both again manyyears afterwards.At the end of the afternoon the soldiers movedin, the ring was dismantled and returned toBurniston. The tumult of the day succumbed tothat end of school silence which Harry Johnson,the caretaker, once told me often made him feelrather sad.Finalities do have that effect, but without wallowingin nostalgia, we can now look back witha great deal of pleasure on our days at the High

School. They remain very much a part of us.GEORGE W (BILL) KENDALLREMEMBERS (1947-1955)SCHOOLGenerally late so always ran or cycled toschool from Trafalgar Square on the NorthSide. Entering by the playground door, hopefullyunnoticed. Morning assembly was moreenjoyable as one got older with ‘Biff Smithknew my father’ a popular choice and rhubarbproved fruitful at times. I did read the lessonone morning from the dais.Forays to the beach were popular towards theend of the summer terms.TEACHERSBon Clarke Most boys seem to mention himand I am no different. He gave us French testsmarked one to four. The mark one got had tobe announced out loud when called and woebetides me if I only got 2, as we had to give themark in French, and my “deux Monsieur’ wasnever acceptable. On one occasion a trip toJoey Marsden who was all knowing, and occasionallyan enforced visit after school to thatwell-known chess club.I had the same problem when trying to pronouncethe Arabic for “land of a million martyrs’for my Arabic teacher whilst in Kuwait.His reaction though was always to laugh atmy serious attempt.The human side. I shall always remember theoccasion when Bon’s wife was leaving by trainone day and the whole class was asked to leanout of the windows and wave handkerchiefsat a certain time so that his wife would knowthat we wished her well. Later in the 6 th form Iwas part of a group that did a years translationof German, in one of the rooms in the areaat the end of the school. Here I believe we gotto know each other a lot better and the translationwas useful in later life. I found it a loteasier to say two beers in German whilst onNational Service.GA Costain conducted our weekly music33class, which consisted of singing songs for thewhole period. I did impart a little comic(serious?) relief by persuading Alf/Ron Lengto stand with me as we sang “The Red Flag”.Costain gave a surprised half smile but did notcomment.Here I have a complaint. In retrospect I thinkthe period was wasted, as we could have beeninvolved in some other aspects of music.Neale Marshall’s invitation to listen to musicespecially “Carmen” started my interest inmusic.ED Colenutt gave me a ticket to hear a recital,which I can still remember and after which Ithanked him.AJ Perry was the woodwork master withwhom I made two stools, one with a raffia seatand the second, a very beautiful(!) piece - all ofwoodGR Hovington and G Hinchliffe our Englishteachers, seemed to keep us busy most of thetime. ”Ode to a Nightingale” and “Ode to aGrecian Urn” are still remembered.CH Bradley and R Giblet for their height.WC Potts Everybody else’s stories about himare true.C Isherwood, our class went to his funeral, ormemorial service.DJ Price did I dissect frogs for him?N Stoddard and RJ Roxburgh both in sportsin which I was involved.Maths Teacher Now I can’t remember whothat was, possibly because I had my headdown working hard! It must have been worthwhile,as we retirees now seem to spend all oftheir time trying to make money on the sharemarket.HW Marsden My mother thanks him and Ithank him, for talking my mother and I out ofbeing a Marine Engineer. I ended up at Leedsdoing Mining Engineering and eventuallywent into Exploration Geophysics.

34CAMPSRobin Hoods’ Bay where we got rained out.Wensleydale going for long walks.Cairngorms, the best of all, walking throughthe heather and the mists, through valleysand along tops of mountains.SPORTSCross Country Always seemed to have fun,never remember if anybody won or whetherwe were actually supposed to race on coldand wet Oliver’s Mount.Shinty A couple of games of Shinty with aprimitive type of hockey stick.Cricket I did get 5 wickets for 4 runs orsimilar in a house match. Never really gotinto cricket at school although I keenly followit now with the mighty Aussies. On the6 th April 1986 I played in a charity matchwith the likes of Jeff Thompson, Ashley Mallett,Doug Walters, Frank Tyson, MaxWalker, Greg Chappell, Rod Marsh, DennisLillee and David Hookes to name a few, onthe Adelaide Oval, South Australia. Namesto conjure with. I was hit for a number ofsixes.Tennis Was always envious of Hargravesand Hodgkinson who were able to leave theschool grounds and play tennis.Athletics I think we had a few meetings butapparently I didn’t shine, as I don’t rememberthem.Basketball Used to enjoy the few games weplayed in the gym. A pity we couldn’t haveplayed more. Played for the company teamin Adelaide but was interrupted by a wellflightedball breaking my little finger.Boxing As a result of a fight in the top playgroundI was ‘volunteered’ to join the BoxingClub where Ron Leng was in his element.After a bit of practice I was‘volunteered’ to fight Henry (Ding Dong)Bell in the school hall. Henry is in the RugbyTeam photos, a muscular nuggetty typewith muscles of steel. The boxing sessionwas highlighted by, and I distinctly remember,those whirling dervishes Leonard Norton-Wayneand John Moorhouse as noted intheir ‘Times’ report. It may have been on thesame bill where Henry and I sparred aroundfor a while pretending to be boxers whensuddenly Henry and I swung and hit eachother at the same time. I think Henry hit meharder than I hit him but even so the rest ofthe fight was at arms length.Gymnastics Was never keen because assoon as I was upside down that was unknownterritory.Rugby Best left ‘til last. Played throughoutmy time at the school as George/Barrie Jubbsentries in the photo fashion stakes show.Barrie Jubbs and I used to compete for positionsin the scrum. I remember one daywhen Jock had Barrie and I run the length,or half, of the rugby field and picked me forsome reason, I think to play Sevens. Theaway games were always a worry to me as Iwas a poor bus traveller. Games at Oliver’sMount, school or inter school, were occasionallya problem as I would have to leavemy greengrocery delivery run, in reasonableweather, to cycle to the Mount only to findan enveloping mist and I was the only onethere, the game had been cancelled. Stilldon’t know how the others got to know.ARTSNote, not too much emphasis on the Artsalthough enjoyed the school plays. Did a bitof painting. Costain’s singing classes.Extra activities. The school, it seemed likethe whole school, had a mock election. Theremust have been a General Election due. Iwas somehow elected as the Labour candidate.At the time there was a major nationalstrike or situation, which nobody couldsolve. Of course eventually at each meetingsome smart Alec would ask me what Iwould do to remedy the situation. I wouldbluster through trying to get onto anothersubject. Nowadays the answer for every-

35thing, would be, that we would have a RoyalCommission. I remember doing a lot of armwaving and all had a good time. I don’t knowif we voted. My politics now are more Liberalas Unions largely control the Labour Party inAustralia and they always seem to overspend,putting the country into debt.Also during the time at school there was goingto be a heavyweight world championshipboxing match. Well, I ran a book on it givingthe boys the option to pick the round in whichthere would be a K.O. - winner takes all. Weall knew it was going to be a knockout decision,so never thought of giving the option forgoing the distance. Yes you’ve guessed it; itwent the whole distance and yours truly, bydefault, won.Celebrating with Ron Leng at the end of theschool year. Memories only for Ron (now anEmeritus Professor and eminent Australian,holder of the Australia Medal award) and I.Bill Potts responded:One note on our friend Marshallʹs name --itʹs Kneale (or, in full, Kneale Thomas). Hismother was a fan of Kneale Kelly, whoseorchestra played at the Spa, so she namedhim after the great man. Although there aremany people with Kneale as a surname, Iʹvenever heard of anyone else with that spellingfor the first name.I had a call from Kneale a few years ago. Hewas on the faculty at the Naval PostgraduateSchool in Monterey (and is now almost certainlyretired). As that was only a 45-minutedrive for me (from San Jose), I drove downone Sunday and had brunch with him andhis wife at the Monterey Hyatt Hotel. He hasa house with a gorgeous view of MontereyBay.FLOTSAM AND JETSAMFrom a Scarborough Evening News articleby Mick JeffersonA reader who told me of some odd happeningsat the Westwood school had the job, afew years ago, of opening up the lecturerooms on the upper floor at around 7 am eachday.Twice he was walking along the corridor towardsa particular room when, ten or twelvepaces in front of him, he saw a figure reachingforward as though to open the door – andthen disappear.The happenings were a few months apart,and after the second of these nothing moreuntoward occurred.On both occasions the corridor was well litand the reader is very clear about what hesaw – a figure in a gown and mortar-boardwho was tall enough to have to reach downfor the door handle. The room concerned wasused as a chemistry lab.In the author’s days at the school in the 1940’sthere were certainly no tales within the schoolof any such strange happenings – they wouldhave gone around the 500 or so pupils likewildfire, but one thing does puzzle me aboutthe description of the figure.Although masters almost always wore academicgowns, mortar-boards were worn, if atall, on only one day in the school year, onspeech day, and that was not normally heldon the school premises.The question is, has anyone else had, or heardof, such ghostly experiences, and, if so, perhapsthey would like to share these in futurepages.From the Scarborough Evening NewsA dance for teenage pupils of ScarboroughGirls’ and Boys’ High Schools, the ConventGirls’ Grammar School and Scarborough Collegewas halted by teachers because of trouble– caused, according to one report, by gatecrashers.Police, called to the Girls’ High School, offStepney Road, broke up a crowd of youthsand girls outside, demanding their moneyback.(Editor: Was any member at this event?Come on; be honest! What do you remember

of it?)From the Fiji Times, 14 th January, 200236THE WORLD'S EASIESTQUIZAn overweight passenger caused heavy delayson a busy British Rail network after hebecame stuck underneath a table.An Arriva spokesman said that the man, whowas travelling from Scarborough to ManchesterAirport was thought to have dosed offand slipped from his seat underneath thetable.When he awoke at Manchester Airport herealised that he was stuck beneath the bolteddown table and had to ask for help from trainstaff.Train workers tried to free the stricken passengerbut eventually called in the Fire Servicewho took 45 minutes to remove the tableand free the man.(Associate Editor: Obviously over indulgedat the Old Scarborians’ Dinner. Included forthe source, rather than the content!)GRAHAM SCHOOL APPEALOSA Member Chris Coole (1955-62) writesMay I pass on information from the currentGraham School.?The school is preparing a bid to become aScience Specialist School and we need to raise£50,000 from the school ʹcommunityʹ beforeour bid can go forward.If anyone would like more information aboutour bid or would like to make a financialpledge to support us, (no money is requiredat this point), please e-mail your request orpledge to:admin@grahamschool.co.ukThank you in anticipation of your support.(Editor: Chris Coole is Chairman of Governorsof Graham School as well as an OSAmember)To pass requires 4 correct answers AND nocheating! (Remember Bon’s tests?)1) How long did the Hundred Years War last?2) Which country makes Panama hats?3) From which animal do we get catgut?4) In which month do Russians celebrate theOctober Revolution?5) What is a camelʹs hair brush made of?6) The Canary Islands in the Pacific arenamed after what animal?7) What was King George VIʹs first name?8) What colour is a purple finch?9) Where are Chinese gooseberries from?The answers are on page 59PETER ROBSON VISITSAUSTRALIADecember/January 2002/03Having spent a fair proportionof my workinglife on aeroplanes, whenI retired in 1997 I vowedto avoid as far as possibleflying again. Theoffer of tickets for theBoxing day Test Matchin Melbourne was, however,decisive in making me break my promise.Further, the advantage of being retired allowedmy wife, Muriel and myself to make aleisurely visit to parts of Australia that wehad not visited before . We had a great holidayeven if the cricket was disappointing.While I was there, I had a long phone conversationwith Paddy Ireland (1944-52) who livesoutside Canberra and keeps himself busywith language teaching and translation. Wemay see him in Scarborough, when he attendshis College (Gonville and Caius, Cambridge)

37year reunion in 2004.Muriel and I were entertained to dinner byKen Beadle (1946-54) and his wife at theirhome in Beaumaris in the outskirts of Melbourneon Christmas Eve. Ken is involvedin civic duties as well as being involved inthe Australian Institute of Chemical Engineers.He comes back to Scarborough regularlyas both his parents are still alive andin their nineties.Ken gave me details he had found on theinternet of Professor Alfie (or Ronnie tosome) Leng (1947-55) who lives in Queenslandand lectures and consults in AnimalHusbandry in Australia and abroad. He issaid to know more about sheep than mostpeople in the world. I later called Alfie whodidn’t remember me at all but followed upwith a email to Ebberston apologising afterhe’d consulted his Rugby photos. He gaveme the details of another Rugby player,George (Bill to some) Kendall (1947-55)who graduated in Mining Engineering atLeeds and is now retired in Queensland.George has subsequently joined the OSAand sent details of the OSA to David Pulsfordwho lives in Sydney.During our visit to Perth, I hoped to talk toRichard Stear but unfortunately he movedhouse recently and I couldn’t get his newphone number out of the system.CHEWING THE FATAn e-mail exchange between Roger Beaumontand Ted Lancaster (1949-54)RB: Hi TedFollowing my undistinguished period atschool, I worked initially for a firm ofbuilding contractors in Scarborough andsigned on at night school to re-sit the subjectsI failed first time around. I managed topass three more subjects to add to the threeI left school with.TL: And I always thought you were abrainbox at school. Now it seems you wereno brighter than I was. I too managed nomore than a miserable three ʺOʺs. It wasnʹtuntil I was in the Royal Navy and had toknuckle down that I discovered I had thesemblance of a brain after all.My parents retired to Bournemouth in thespring of 1955 so I left my poorly paid jobwith the builders and went to work forJaconelliʹs who agreed to pay me enough tolive on while I completed my night classes.I always considered the Jaconelli family asgood friends, especially Peter, Alfie,Gemma and Gina. They were always therefor me whenever I needed help while growingup and for many years after, as theywere for many of our generation.While working at the builders I was introducedto the profession of quantity surveyingwhich I found interesting so I decidedto make that my career.While working on the local talent afterleaving the Royal Navy, one of whom wasa student teacher, I thought ʺI can do that.All I need is twice as many ʺOʺ‘s as I havenow and a couple of ʺAʺ‘s. ʹShouldnʹt takelong.ʺ - and decided to make that my career.I moved to Bournemouth in September1955 to join my parents. Brother David hadmoved to Bournemouth the previous yearbut had not returned to live with parents. Iwas lucky and quickly got a job with a localbuilder as a trainee quantity surveyor andsigned on for more night school doing ONCand HNC building studies. That lasted forfive years.Realising that the teaching profession maynot be absolutely clamouring to get me onboard and just on the off chance that Imight never make it I considered alternativecareer options. Iʹd discovered I had aflair for the sciences and so applied to ICIWilton, Nylon Laboratories as an analyticallaboratory assistant. While working

38there I topped up my qualifications atLonglands College in Middlesbrough, actuallygaining a scholarship to do A-level maths andphysics. Joey and Bill Potts would have beenproud. From there to the City of BirminghamCollege of Education and Teacher Training. Imanaged to scrape through on a little workeffort while mainly concentrating on the rockmusic band that we were forming. After collegeI taught in Birmingham schools for ashort time then went fully pro in pursuit ofthe elusive ʹbig timeʹ. We had the same recordingmanager and sound engineer as ManfredMann. Unfortunately none of our effortsever made it. However we did have the privilegeof working alongside some big name entertainersas their supporting band includingBen E King, Dusty Springfield, Tom Jones,Lulu, The Barron Knights, The Move, TheBonzo Dog Doodah Band, The Everly Bros,Chuck Berry, The Tremeloes and The Pedlarswhom I think were Luluʹs old band, The Lovers.After this faded I ran a pub in Smethwick,made enough to start a business, childrenʹsboutique, got so badly ripped off in a scam bythe vendor that I was on the verge of bankruptcy,went back into showbiz to pay off mycreditors, formed the rock and roll duo, MarkArran and Stevie Lee, fabulous girl drummer(actually the wife,- game girl), got to the finalsin the Mitchells and Butlers Talent Extravaganzaat the Wolves Molyneux GroundSocial Club. Solvent again, went into specialeducation, read for the degree of Bachelor ofPhilosophy in the Psychology of ChildhoodEmotional and Behavioural Disorder at BirminghamUniversity. Took a further qualificationin clinical hypnosis and psychotherapy,opened and ran the Dudley HypnotherapyCentre from 1984 till 1998.My next job was on the original part of the M1motorway as a Quantity Surveyor that lastedabout a year.Two or three times a year we travel up fromWorcestershire to visit friends and family allover the North East. From now on we willhave a new respect for the M1.I returned to Bournemouth and have spentmost of the rest of my life here, working forvarious firms of builders and professionalquantity surveying firms. My only other periodaway was in 1984/85 when I went towork in Bermuda as QS for a firm of builders.I got that job through a Bermudan friend whoI met when he was in the UK studying to be abuilding surveyor. Good fortune enabled meto retire in November 1999.The Bermudan episode sounds great. I trulyenvy your experience. Never knew why butIʹve always had a fascination with Bermudaand the ʹtriangleʹ, (or is it a ʹrectangleʹ now?)but never went there. It may stem from mydeep interest in the paranormal on which Ihave conducted a fair degree of ʺamateursleuthʺ investigative work.My first marriage took place in 1962 andlasted until 1986 when we separated, we weredivorced in 1988. We had two children, one ofeach. My daughter is now forty and is marriedwith two children, both boys. My son isnearly thirty eight and is not married but hasa partner (female), no children. I re-married in1991. My wife has two daughters, one marriedand one divorced, both with two children(each have a boy and a girl).Pat and I met at night-school in Middlesbroughin the biology class. We married twoyears later and are still going strong, twoboys, two girls, seven grand-kinder.That more or less concludes the story of mylife so far and Iʹll leave you to assess the answerto the second question in your email.(ie. What have you been up to for the last 50years, owt or nowt?)My brother, Dave, was a chef and spent thewhole of his working life in the Bournemoutharea. He was head chef in various hotels andhad his own business for a time. He has alsoretired and has recently bought a property in

39France where he and his wife plan to livemost of the time. They are there at the moment.I have not been there yet but willprobably be going there early next month tohelp them move some of their belongings.I remember Dave well. I wish him luck.Are you in touch with any of our other classmates?Since joining the ʹOld Scabsʹ, I have been intouch with a handful of old boys, Stan Halliday,Pete Hough, John Mann, DavidFowler, Bill Potts (the physics masterʹs son.)You should have a look at the web site onhttp://www.oldscarborians.org.ukIt is fascinating. Give it a try.Do you now live in Scarborough?We are living in Stourport on Severn in thevalley about a mile from the river on theedge of the Nature Reserve. Itʹs a beautifulplace and I doubt we will move again eventhough we did hanker to be back in Yorkshire.Are you still working or are you retired?Since my retirement from teaching in 1987 itappears that Sandwell Education are findingit difficult to cope without me and I havegone back into special ed. on a part timebasis working with excluded difficult behaviourvarmints. Remind you of anyone?I am hoping to visit Scarborough sometimethis year and would love to meet up withyou. Let me know if that could be a possibility.Our next visit will be around half term orpossibly Easter, weather dictating. I will letyou know when our plans are more set.I had always remembered that you weregoing to join the navy, with the intention ofbeing an artificer, when you left school andhad often wondered where you finished up.That was, of course, before I saw your noteson friends re-united.It was Joeyʹs idea that I join the Royal Navyas an engineer (artificer). I had alwayswanted to join the Mercantile as a Navigator.I was absolutely, totally useless at thepractical aspects of engineering, failing almostevery practical test. I was of averageability but was horrendously slow. Eachhourʹs overtime on a test job examinationcost a mark and a half deduction. As I wasusually ten to fifteen hours adrift, the fiftyto sixty percent result I attained wasknocked down to a failing mark. I was givenseveral second chances to catch up but waseventually consigned to the Royal NavalVolunteer Reserve, to be served in civvystreet except in the case of a national emergencywhen I would be required to go andsave the nation. However by this time I hadlearned that I was not quite the mental dullardI had presented at school. I became quitea high flier academically in maths, appliedmaths, engineering theory, sciences and English.Also represented the navy college atgymnastics. I was particularly fortunate insecuring the extra curricular activity ofshipʹs ʺsound reproduction equipment operatorʺThe SRE-Op was the forerunner of whatwe would term ʺdisc jockeyʺ.Now, having received your email, I have tosay, I am impressed! What a varied and interestinglife you have had so far. Your historymakes mine seem positively mundaneand boring.I think itʹs always a case of ʺThe othermanʹs grass.ʺ I am most envious of yourachievements of a more lasting and usefulnature and of the time you have spent livingand working in Bermuda.I was very surprised that you even contemplated,let alone pursued, a career in teaching.Memories of our treatment of some ofour teachers, particularly of ʹMaulerʹ Manfield(French), would have put me off thatidea completely.Funny you should say that. Have a look at

40the Old Scarborians website on the noticeboard section. Thereʹs quite a few commentsabout ʺMaulerʺ, aka ʺMickeyʺ, following aquery I popped in a few months ago.Also I had no idea that you had musical talents!Did Mr Costain (the school musicteacher, if I recall correctly) know ?I think Arthur followed the same format asmost of the staff. Forget individual leanings.Treat ʹem all the same. I had done a lot ofstage drama work in junior school and wasthe teacherʹs pet in all acting productions.None of this surfaced at SBHS under SamRockinghorse. Not until College did I becomeinvolved in acting, stage management, directing,producing, eventually finishing up at theBirmingham Repertory Theatre in 1983 for theCitizensʹ Theatre Group in a two handercalled ʺAlas Poor Fredʺ.The list of people you worked with is veryimpressive and you must have some greatmemories and stories to tell. What was thename of your band ?We started off at City of Birmingham Collegeof Education just for a laugh playing rubbishat the college hops. Free entry was offered tothe student who came up with a catchy nameand for years we were ʺThe Vacant Lot BeatBandʺ. As the group became more adept weaccepted a residency at ʹThe Rum Runnerʹnightclub in Broad Street Birmingham, thesame venue from which Duran Duran sprangabout a decade later. Here we became ʺTheRum Runner Katzʺ or just ʺKatzʺ. Tentativeearly records were made under this name includingEP ʺKatz Live at the Rum Runnerʺ.Did you ever appear on TV?We passed the audition for the Hughie GreenShow but for some unknown reason it wasaxed.or were any of your your bands records everplayed on the radio?Some air time was given on Radio One butThe Palm Court is a 3 Star Hotel with a superb central location and guaranteed free covered parking,minutes to the beach, town centre, theatres, Spa.All 47 bedrooms en-suite with colour television, tea / coffee facilities, telephone. Ideal for the discerningconference delegate offering in-house conference facilities in the hotel's purpose builtconference suite.The elegant Rosedale Restaurant offers full traditional English breakfast, Table D'Hote and A laCarte evening dinner. Adjacent is the Troutsdale Ballroom which is available for private functionsor a conference suite seating up to 200 guests.Other facilities include Indoor heated Swimming Pool, Cocktail Bar, Lift to all floors, Weekend,midweek, weekly breaks all year, Saturday Dinner Dances, Christmas and New Year breaks.Rates: B & B £28.00 - £46.00

41mainly the group were known on the hospitalradio circuits. Sales were always disappointing.Do you still have any of your records?Records were made under the name of CinnamonQuill and are still available as specialcollections on the Morgan Label. By the timethe name was Cinnamon Quill, I had left. Myrecords have gradually been ʺborrowedʺ overthe years without trace except for reel to reeltapings.Your attainment of a B.Phil is also impressive!I never even took the professional quantitysurveying qualifications. It never seemednecessary as I never had to look for work.Once I got started in Bournemouth I was alwaysable to move from job to job throughpersonal contact or recommendation. Theonly job I actually had to apply for was towork for John Laing Construction on the M1.I had since I was very tiny had an interest inhypnosis when I first read up about Freudʹsattempts to use it followed by my mum takingme to a stage hypnotism show at an oldchurch on Longwestgate about 1948.The B.Phil was an educational psychologybased degree without the rigors of an EdPsych proper. Not only did this open up possibilitiesof school based advancement but itoffered the chance to follow up with a furtherqualification in clinical hypnosis and psychotherapy.I opened the Dudley HypnotherapyCentre in 1984 working from time to timein Midland hospitals and even having a surgeryin the Helios Health and Leisure Centrewhich was the site of the Health Club in theold TV series of ʺCrossroadsʺ.Iʹm surprised you ever imagined that I was abrain box! I did start off doing very well forthe first couple of years but went down hillrapidly after that due to being absent throughillness and injury quite frequently. I can notaccurately remember when the various eventsoccurred but the first was because I had tohave an operation to remove my appendix. Afew months after that I managed to fracturemy skull by riding, head first, into the back ofa lorry whilst cycling back to school after thelunch break.Perhaps it was your early academic effortsthat I remember. I do vaguely recall yourencounter with the lorry and your scarredand shaven head in the aftermath. Iʹm impressedby your overcoming the set backs ofsuch a difficult period. My failure to striveand thrive at school was simply a case ofchip on shoulder bad attitude.I then had meningitis on two occasions, a fewmonths apart, and following tests and x-raysit was discovered that when my scull wasfractured a membrane in my scull was puncturedwhich was causing the meningitis. Thecure for my problems was not available atScarborough Hospital so I was sent to a hospitalin Newcastle-on-Tyne. The first operationthey performed was unsuccessful and Iwas re-admitted for a second attempt. Fortunatelythat was a success ! I think that all theforgoing occurred during the second andthird years. Immediately after the final operationI had to go to Scarborough Hospital fortreatment three times a week, first thing inthe morning. As I was late for school on theseoccasions my mother always provided mewith a note which I dutifully handed in toJoey Marsden. After receiving a substantialnumber of notes he told me not to botherbringing any more! As my number of visits tothe hospital decreased I had, and used, theopportunity to stay away from school for thefirst period many times when there wassomething I wanted to avoid. I had missed somuch school time that it was impossible tocatch up in some subjects and Joey gave methe opportunity to opt out of some subjects toenable me to try to catch up in others. I gaveup chemistry and physics and biology to concentrateon geography and history. I was allowedto study in the hall on my own.Enough of my school life.My self imposed experience was similar yet

42opposite to yours. I sidestepped history andgeography to concentrate alone in the hall onPhysics, Chemistry and Biology, the subjectswhere I had at least a miserable chance of success,eventually caught, interrogated and sentencedto eternal damnation by Biff Smith.In reply to your second email, I would have noobjection to you using my email for the purposesuggested, if you think any one would beinterested in reading it. When would you wantto submit it?David has asked me to slip in a few lines bythe end of January, I shall try for that deadline.It just seemed on the spur of the moment that aseries of email correspondences between twoold mates of fifty years ago would be a novelway of sharing a bit of ʺchewing the fatʺ.We have just decided that we want some wintersun and warmth so we are going to Lanzeroteon Thursday for a week.Bon voyage. Have a good ʹun.(Editor: Roger, why not become a member?Life membership is still only £10)SCHOOL PHOTO 1925by Peter Robson (1945-53)Peter Emms (1951-56) is a partner at Goodall’sEstate Agents in Scarborough. While surveyingan empty house which he had been commissionedto sell, he found a framed photographof the staff and pupils of the SBHS dated June1925. The first thing he noticed was that hisfather was in the front row of the assembledschool. Naturally, he took possession of thephoto and passed it on to the Old Scarborians’Secretary.The photo has the following handwritten inscriptionon the back:-.“This picture was in the possession of Joe Hopwoodfor 45 years in Simonstown, South Africa.It was given to Herbert W Dennis whenvisiting South Africa in 1974. Joe said it wouldgive far more pleasure to people in Scarborough,Yorkshire UK.Herbert Dennis had it published in the ScarboroughMercury in January 1975. It created atremendous amount of interest – letters camefrom all over the world – including one fromHarold Denton in Pietersburg. He is an accountantwho served his time with Robinson,Coulson and Kirkby in the 1920’s. Anotherletter was from Sep Brown in the Isle of Man –now retired from being Surveyor with StourportRDC – and lots more”.A second inscription in different writing is asfollows:-“ July 18 th 1985. Mrs Tom Laughton, widow ofthe late Herbert Dennis, kindly gave the photographto William Leslie Swinney, as he hadshown interest in the photo, as guest at dinnerduring Herbert’s lifetime”.Bill Swinney, who supplied many of us withour school uniform from his shop in AberdeenWalk, died a year ago and it seems reasonableto assume that the photo somehow survivedthe clearance of the contents of his home.It is a marvellous object in pristine conditionand an important addition to our archive.CONNECTIONSby Ron Hutchinson (1945-53)I was delighted in October 2002 to receive aletter from Peter Robson suggesting I join theOSA. Apart from being a VL class-mate, Peterand I had also been members, along with DonBarnes and Maurice Pennock, of a Table Tennisteam called the “Quads”. Attired in marooncoloured shirts bearing the logo “QUADS”, wehad played in the Scarborough and DistrictTable Tennis League.I suppose that technically I have “rejoined” theOSA, as I remember being a member while atuniversity, and on one occasion going to a dinnerat the English Speaking Union in London.After National Service in the RAF in Germany,and then 4 years at Queen’s College Oxford - acollege at which many Old Boys both beforeand after me have studied - I went into teach-

43ing as a History master. I want to use thisarticle to mull over OSA connections so won’tbore you with a lot of career details. Let itsuffice that I got to the top of the greasy poleand for 17 years was Headmaster of a Comprehensiveschool - Hanley Castle HighSchool in Worcestershire. In 1991 I took earlyretirement, and have never looked back. I amhappily married, and live in Malvern.The lucky break in my career came, I mustconfess, as a result of “old school tie” connection.My first teaching post had been a pleasantco-educational Grammar School in Derbyshire.After only two years and two terms, aninvitation came from out the blue to apply forthe post of Head of History at the ManorGrammar/Technical School, Mansfield Woodhouse,Notts. As some of my readers will havealready guessed, the Headmaster was a Mr.GR Hovington. It seems that Hov had been onthe grapevine to Joey about a suitable candidatefrom the SBHS Old Boys, and my namecame up. And the Scarborough connectioncontinued because when I left after six happyyears my successor was Graham Thornton.The Manor School was a brand-new, state ofthe art, building, and Hov was brilliant atman-management, organisation, and discipline.No doubt he drew in part on his warservice as a Major in the Green Howards. Isaw quite a different Hov from the man whohad taught me A level English. I thrived at theschool, and became a House Master, whichhelped me in my next career step to become aDeputy Head. The Houses were called aftersome insignificant medieval locals (Stuffyn,Wolfhunt, Kirklynton). Although the administrativeframe work was up-dated, I could detecta pastoral lineage from Arnold, Kingsley,Ruskin, and Carlyle at the SBHS.I note from the Magazine that Mike Rines isworking on Hov’s wartime diary. (Editor: Seenext article) Here is an anecdote. Hov and Ihad taken a school party to Belgium, I think itwas 1966. It included Hov’s wife, Jean, andtheir two small children. Hov and I, for somereason I cannot remember, were alone on thequay at Ostend. He recounted to me how duringthe last days of the war (May 45) his unitwas pushing deeper into Germany and theywere meeting bitter resistance from teenagemembers of the Hitler Youth, who were fightingfar more fanatically than the average Germansoldier. Hov said that he and the rest ofthe men had a funny feeling about how stupidit would be to get killed in the last days of thewar by a bunch of schoolboys. Hov also recalledthat when one of the youths was captured,he spat defiantly on Hov’s battle dress.My next contact with the SBHS came in 1974when I became Headmaster of Hanley CastleGrammar School in Worcestershire, taskedwith turning it into a Comprehensive. I wrotefull of pride to Joey to let him know that onemore of his pupils had made good. Althoughhis life was almost at an end, he wrote meback a kind letter, which I still treasure. Ithink that we are all agreed how incredibleJoey’s memory was in its ability to recall generationafter generation of Old Boys. For goodmeasure this letter also included the informationthat Les Brown had began his teachingcareer at Hanley Castle Grammar School inthe 1930’s before moving to the SBHS.I found Les Brown’s records and they showedthat he had been at Hanley Castle 1933-36,after which he had moved to Scarborough.His salary was £250.00 per annum less 10%(during the Great Depression of the 1930’s theArmed Forces, Civil Service and Teachers allhad to take a 10% cut). I also found a HMIReport, which spoke highly of the youngFrench master - he was full of energy and hada refreshingly modern approach with plentyof spoken French.I took photo copies of the relevant documentsand got in touch with Les. There then began amost wonderful friendship with him whichlasted until his death. My wife and I visitedLes and Betty several times at Barmoor Manorwhere we were always greeted with delicioushome made scones and cakes. On one occa-

44sion Les paid a nostalgic visit to Hanley Castle.Although at school my favourite subject wasHistory, I always had the greatest respect forLes as a teacher of French, and contact withhim in later life made me realise what a kindand thoughtful human being he was. If I mayquote from a letter he sent me you will seewhat I mean:“I thank you both for your kind letter and for themost interesting enclosures about the school(Hanley Castle), for the HMI’s Report of 1936, andthe photostat. I can hardly say how deeply grateful Iam to you for at last giving me an opportunity tosee what I should have been allowed to see fiftyyears ago. When I arrived, I was merely told to geton with it and to create my own discipline. Forthree years I used to sit down almost every eveningand think back to my own school days and say:‘How should I have liked this to be taught to me?’In the First Form it needed simplicity, humour, andas much connection with their day to day life aspossible, and as much spoken French and simpleaccompanying actions as possible. It would havebeen most helpful to know in detail what the HMI’sthought of my efforts. However, I now know, andthe knowledge of it gives me a deep sense of satisfaction.”“The French Connection” now takes me to thepresent day. Reading the Centenary Edition ofthe Magazine, I saw the article by John Hall,writing from Notre Dame de Cenilly, France.Two years ago, my wife and I bought a holidayhome, or maison secondaire, at Carentan, asmall town about 30 miles south of Cherbourg.Fierce fighting took place here just after D Dayinvolving the American 101st Airborne Division.(You can see one version of the events inpart 3 of Steven Spielberg’s blockbuster “Bandof Brothers”). Anyway, John Hall’s home isjust 20 miles from Carentan. I have been intouch, and hope to visit him next time we goover.My final reflections concern Bon Clarke, for Itoo experienced the gentle side of the sternGauleiter of Stalag 10. I was one those invitedto 8b Oak Road to play table tennis and borrowbooks. I remember discovering Sellar andYeatman’s “1066 And All That”. Some of itshumour stood me in good stead years later asa History teacher. I also recall that Bon used totease his cat with an imitation mouse called JoeLewis made of black insulation tape. Anotherthing about Bon Clarke was that he had a“gammy leg”, and he rode to school on a bicycleon which only one pedal went round. Therewas a rumour that he had been wounded inthe First World War, but 1 never heard himtalk about it. Now comes an attempt at a finalconnection.Ever since my school days I have been interestedin Military History. In retirement mywife and I made a pilgrimage along the WesternFront in our motor caravan. Starting atYpres, we moved southwards to Vimy Ridge,the Somme, Chemin des Dames, and on toVerdun. I have read many books on thishaunting subject. One I possess is “The WesternFront” by Richard Holmes. Before appearingas a book it had been a BBC TelevisionSeries in 1999. Some of you may have seenRichard Holmes on Television presenting alsothe War Walks series. Anyway, in the bookRichard Holmes when recounting the 3rd Battleof Ypres (1917), often called Passchendaele,writes as follows:The battle looked different to participants. LieutenantFirstbrooke Clarke of the North Staffordshireswrote ‘I suppose to people at home it was a finevictory. Well, so it is but they don’t see the deadand wounded lying out and they don’t have 9.2’sbursting 10 yards away, machine-gun bulletsscraping the parapet. I lost 17 of my platoon (4killed) besides casualties in the rest of the company.I was so sick of it that I cried when I got back.’Can any Old Boy confirm that this was Bon?The Christian name Firstbrooke is so unusualthat there can surely be no one else? Those ofyou who studied German will recall that weused a book which he had written. It wascalled ”German Grammar for Revision andReference” by Firstbrooke Clarke. For some

45arcane reason when talking to us, he called it“Mudpie”.Having made this start, I hope that in theyears to come, many contacts with friends,both old and new, will develop.(Editor: I recall hearing that Bon served inthe First World War. I have skipped quicklythrough the 7 editions of Summer Times Ihave edited but have found nothing definitive.However, Bon’s son attended SBHSbetween 1936 and 1941 and is a member ofthe OSA, and his name is John FirstbrookClark)HOV’s WAR MEMOIRA PREAMBLEby Michael Rines (1941-52)Hov’s war memoirprobably reveals thetrue nature of war. It isas much about cockups,improvisation,luck and sheer drudgeryas it is about heroism,bloody sacrificeand well-planned strategy.It is a rivetingread, but it came to light almost by chanceduring a conversation at the last of the annualMansfield lunches he attended before hedied.We were talking about the joys of writing,and he told me about his memoir, writtensome time after the War. He said he did notwant it to be published until after his death,because it might upset some of the peoplementioned in it. He added that he had lentthe only copy to an old friend who was terminallyill with cancer.I was very concerned that when his frienddied his relations might not realise the valueof the story, so I wrote to Hov pointing thisout. Not long afterwards, I was surprised toreceive the typescript through the post – andhorrified that he had risked sending the onlycopy this way.He had crossed out one or two passages, andgave me his blessing to try to get it publishedbefore his death. However, I have felt justifiedin restoring almost all of the deletionsnow, since I believe that would have been hiswish.The memoir is very self-effacing, and I suspectHov played a much more distinguishedrole than emerges from it. His refusal of theoffer of the MC is typical.According to Captain Tony Watkins, one ofhis few surviving Green Howard colleagues,he was well loved in the Regiment. Watkinswas only 19 when he was sent out as a juniorofficer to Italy, and he says: ‘I valued Hov forhis friendship, and for the concern and helphe gave me as an older officer for a veryyoung and inexperienced one, and I am alwaysgrateful that he guided me to an appreciationof literature.’He also tells how, during a tough time inItaly, Hov ran the Anzio Turf Club, whichwas a great morale booster, and in the Historyof the 5 th Division there is a photographof him, pipe firmly gripped, presenting theCQMS with his winnings.Hov’s daughter Sarah has kindly providedme with some documents and newspapercuttings about her father, which tells us of hislife before SBHS, and I think provides usefulbackground to his war memoirs.I had never heard him talk about his earlierlife, and it came as a surprise to me to findwhat a brilliant all-rounder he was. We knewthat he had been educated at the CoathamSchool in Redcar, but we did not know thathe had been head boy, and had won both aState Scholarship and a County Bursary,which took him to Jesus College, Oxford.We knew that he played a good game ofrugby, and was an elegant batsman, but wedidn’t know his first love and favourite game

46Drabble & CoSolicitorsOld Rose Cottage409 Scalby RoadNewbyScarboroughNorth YorkshireYO12 6UATel: 01723 507508Fax: 01723 500540DX 61806 SCARBOROUGHwas soccer. At Oxford, he was elected a Centaur,the exclusive club for the top soccerplayers at the University. For his college, hewas not only captain of both soccer andcricket teams, but also played hockey andrugby.We knew he had some musical ability, becausehe produced the school’s Gilbert & Sullivanperformances. But I, at any rate, did notknow he played the piano, let alone that hehad a song, for which he had written bothwords and music, published while he was atOxford. And when he left with a good degreein English, the Principal of Jesus said he had‘definite literary and dramatic interests’.His first job was teaching English and Latin atAshby-de-la-Zouche Grammar School, andwhile there he played rugby, cricket and footballfor local teams, with some distinction tojudge by reports in the local papers.‘Grammar School Master’s Big Score ForAshby Town’ was one headline, when he got97 not out.He came to our school in September 1939, butmy first memory of him is seeing him bat forScarborough at North Marine Road, and beingimpressed by his refreshing and culturedstyle.When he taught us in the Sixth Form, some ofus thought at the time that his attitude was abit dilettantish. But, looking back, we couldnot have been more wrong. In addition to histeaching, he was deeply involved in theschool’s rugby, cricket and boxing, and he didthe Gilbert and Sullivan in alternate years. Atthe same time, he was involved in amateurdramatics in the town, and continued to playcricket. For a time, he ran his own Sundayteam, composed mostly of Scarborough CCplayers, but sometimes including his oldGreen Howards friend, Norman Yardley. Healso played a more bucolic kind of game, forGristhorpe, where he lived. But most astonishingof all, he got himself a law degree in hisspare time. Some dilettante!What we had regarded as an overly casual

approach was in fact one of Hov’s greatstrengths: he was what would today be called‘laid back’. When so may other teachers hadnervous breakdowns, nothing disturbed hisequilibrium, and it was one of the things,which by all accounts, made him a great headmasterwhen he moved on from Scarborough,and which must have served him well in theGreen Howards.He remained proud of his Yorkshire roots, andhis daughter says: ‘He always remembered hisdays at the High School with great fondness. Ithink it was quite a time for Dad – free, singleand into sports, pints and pipes!’ And he did,apparently, date a succession of school secretaries.A lot of us owed him a lot.A RESPONSEby Peter Robson (1945-53)I was never taught by Hov so my experience ofhim was through his work as coach of the firstfifteen and as a cricketer against whom Iplayed occasionally.I am left with the conclusion that Hov was agifted scholar and sportsman who preferred anamateur approach to everything he did. Inother words he eschewed any professionalism,either in preparation or in actual performance.I would have said he was lazy but having readof his achievements, I am more inclined to sayhe was gifted and able to do things instinctivelyand without great apparent effort. Thisgave him a certain detachment and hence theability to avoid being too caught up in the crisis.As a consequence he was able to thinkmore clearly and act in a calm and sensibleway. This gift was the source of his easy authority.Thus, he was not a great rugby coach. He didn’thammer the basic skills into people but hadthe ability to draw from his players, the maximumcontribution that they could give withinthe limits of their ability. He was able to extracta major contribution from several boys who47were on the verge of being problems in theschool. What coaching he did, was donethrough his match reports where he was veryanalytical and hard but fair in his criticism. Hiscomments were rarely resented. Thus, hisplayers, lightly coached, played as he himselfwould have played. He would not have fittedat all into the modern game, with the apoplecticcoaches and self indulgent displays of triumphfrom the players when things go right.He was not greatly involved in school cricket. Iremember him being responsible for the Under14 cricket team in the year I played in it but Ibelieve he wanted to have the time to continueto play the game himself. He played no role inthe coaching of the first XI though he was aclose follower of what was happening.I saw him play both Rugby and Cricket andwas not mightily impressed. He ran in shortsteps in a very stuttering and unathletic way.However, I believe he had suffered a majorinjury soon after his arrival in Scarboroughplaying for the Scarborough first XI. At thistime he was a fast bowler and I think wasbowled repeatedly when he was not fit or wasinjured. He once commented to me along theselines. Incidentally it was the Scarboroughcricketers who gave him his nickname Gerrywhich was derived from his initials GRBut though he gave up rugby, he continued toplay cricket for Gristhorpe until he left theSchool and the town in 1955. Here I’m sure hefitted in perfectly well with the country characterswho played for Gristhorpe at that timeand whom I knew well, because my Auntlived in the village and was one of the charactersherself.In conclusion, Hov had lots of natural ability,both intellectually and athletically, an easyauthority, great modesty even diffidence and adislike of flamboyance. These were hisstrengths and his weakness. Along with manymembers of staff at the School he failed to inspiremany gifted boys with similar abilities tobelieve that they were something other thanbright young men from an educational back-

48water. He probably believed that like him,their abilities would be somehow rewarded intheir professional life as they had been inSchool life. Some sponsorship from Hov,some advice and a good shove in the rightdirection would have been invaluable formany boys who had to compete in a worldwhere the gifted amateur didn’t always rise tothe top of the heap.We were lucky that he passed through Scarboroughon his effortless way to the immortality.At his funeral, though it must havebeen 20 years since he retired, the church wasfull and people of all ages and generationswere there to pay their last respects. I had theclear memory of that grin decorated with thespittle hanging from the pipe.A fine man; I wish I‘d known him better.FIVE THOUSAND MILESThe World War II experiencesof an infantry officerby Major George ReginaldHovington(Edited by Michael Rines)CHAPTER 1 1940World War II startedon September 3, 1939,but my call-up wasdeferred to Septemberthe following year,because I was a schoolmaster,at the ScarboroughBoys’ HighSchool. Then there wasa further delay, becauseI had attended a school camp atBromsgrove in the August, picking raspberriesfor the war effort. I was quarantined for amonth, because one boy who had been on thecamp died from polio and another was left acripple. As a result, I was not called up until17 October.I was posted as a private soldier to the Yorkand Lancaster Regiment at Pontefract, forbasic training. The only memories I have ofthis initiation into soldiering were the coarsenessand filthy habits of some of our intake,the endless drill, the bullying by ignorantNCOs and the soul-destroying daily task ofpolishing buttons and boots. After being thereonly a few weeks, we were all called out inthe middle of the night to extricate dead bodies,or parts of them, from houses in Sheffield,which had suffered a heavy blitz from Germanbombers.After three months, I was sent to an Officers’Corps Training Unit (OCTU), which was likea rest haven after Pontefract. The previouscommander of the unit had been sacked forintimating to the press that grammar schoolboys were incapable of accepting strict disciplineand would never make good officers.The new commander, therefore, took care torelax the discipline and adopt a much morepersonal and pastoral approach. Fillet steakand chips for breakfast, and rough cider atfour pennies a pint in every pub made us allput on weight, the more so because drill paradeswere seldom held, and then not takenseriously.When cricket started, I was made captain. Wedid not lose a match, and I think this was whyI was appointed head cadet at the end of thecourse. I little knew that this meant I wouldbe in charge of the final parade. Nobody gaveme any instruction for it -– I was just expectedto ‘know the drill.’Two hundred cadets were marched on to theparade ground, where I stood on a raisedplatform, isolated except for the bristlymoustachedRSM, standing behind me withhis cane and breathing into my buttocks.From the side, the brass hats, including a general,looked on with as much interest as if itwere a heavyweight fight.Fortunately, the RSM was like a mind reader,and corrected whatever mistakes I was going

49to make, before I made them. So any damageto the dignity of the Army was deflected, andhe had the courtesy to say to me as the paradewas dismissed, ‘Not bad! I’ve seenworse. SIR!’CHAPTER 2 1941 – 42NORTHERN IRELAND ANDENGLANDAfter a week’s leave, during which I wasmeasured for and received my officer’s uniform,I set out with one pip on my shoulderto join the 1 st Battalion, the Green Howards,which was stationed at Omagh, in NorthernIreland - train to Stranraer, ferry to Larne,and a long slow train journey to follow. Thebattalion headquarters, where the troopswere quartered, was in a former asylum, butthe officers were billeted in requisitionedprivate houses.I was given a room next to the monocled theHonourable George Howard, of Castle Howard,whose ancestors had founded the regiment.I found him pleasantly correct, but atfirst uncommunicative, probably because hehad two pips to my one. However, I warmedto him after a drunken party when he invitedme into his room for a nightcap, and I discoveredit was lined with Greek and Latin texts.He told me he read them in the original forlight reading! More later of the HonourableGeorge, who, sometime after the war, becameChairman of the BBC.Almost all the officers were regulars andthere was among them an almost professionaldisdain for us amateurs, who includedNorman Yardley and Hedley Verity, bothinternational cricketers. Bob Tanner, one ofthe company commanders, was an exception.He came from a line of naval commanders,but, being colour-blind, had no option but tomake do with the infantry! His life was full ofescapades, self-made.In Omagh, the night before the hunt met atthe town hall in the middle of the street, hehad put down a trail of aniseed, and thehounds raced round and round the building,causing utter confusion. When we were inEgypt, he went to the Naval Club in Alexandria,sporting on his arm a tag ‘England’,which he had painted on, because, he said,‘Everybody I’ve seen has got some otherbloody country’. For his pains, he was putunder close arrest by an admiral!I met him again in 1952 at King’s Cross Station,and asked whether he was a general yet.He replied that he had been cashiered. Hehad borrowed £100 from the Mess Account atStanmore to go to Ascot races, and had won£800. At the mess dinner that night he hadboasted to the General about it and told howhe’d borrowed the money. He was onceagain put under close arrest.Life in Omagh was full – nowhere to go exceptthe ‘Gentlemen’s Club’, where the onlydrink was draught Guinness, so we madeour own fun. Unfortunately, the Colonelthought the officers needed smartening upand inflicted on us for a week a Guards’RSM, who took us for drill on the square. Wegot tired of hearing him shout ‘You’re idle,SIR!’ and, on one drill, we decided we’d allbe deaf. As we marched into the paradeground, he shouted ‘Left turn!’ We marchedstraight on, across the square, over a fenceand into a field, still keeping perfect formationwhile his hysterical shouts of ‘AboutTurn!’ gradually faded.Of course, we all got a severe ‘rocket’ fromthe Colonel, but the RSM disappeared thenext day.Four days a week, we either did routemarches or took part in company, battalion,or brigade exercises, which involved 15-20miles of marching. This was followed by thedigging of slit trenches, in which we spentthe night, fortified by stew and rice puddingsent up in trucks. During the exercises, wewere perpetually hungry, but we were savedby the Irish peasants -- if the definition of apeasant is one who lives in a small cottage

with sheep, goats, pigs and cows in the nextor sometimes the same room, eking out a livingfrom two acres of potatoes, some rootvegetables and a strip of corn. They wouldcome to their doors, on hearing the approachof the marching columns, and offer tea anddelicious soda bread. I never met one whowas not kind, generous and patriotic - therewere more Union Jacks on display in one villagethan all the rest of Britain, I should say.After six months, we suspected we wereabout to leave. Officers, surplus to the establishmentwere being promoted and postedelsewhere. The Colonel, having played for theArmy at cricket, saw to it that no cricketer wasposted. We had a splendid side, which wonon most Saturdays against Northern Irishtowns.Then we heard that there was to be a farewellball - after which we were bound, via England,for India. The Green Howards was abattalion in the 5 th Division, which was theimperial reserve, to be sent to support forwardtroops when necessary. This time wewould be stationed near the east coast of India,in case the Japanese invaded.The final ball, as formal as any in the NineteenthCentury, was held in the Asylum, andall the local notabilities and their wives wereinvited. Booze was limited, which was becausethe Honourable George, with his palTremayne, had been sent in plain clothes toDublin to buy some gin and whisky. They hadgot into a fight, lost the money, and had returnedcrestfallen. The penalty for George waspromotion to captain in the Indian Army,while Tremayne was sent to the Glider PilotRegiment – he was killed at Arnhem.The dances were old-fashioned, and each officerhad had his dance card marked beforehandby the colonel’s wife, so we all spent afruitless evening trying to avoid the toes of fatmatrons. There seemed to be only two femalesunder the age of 21, but they were horseyfacedand not worth ‘saddling,’ even if theirnames were on your card.50It was a relief to go on leave.CHAPTER 3 1942THE JOURNEY TO INDIAAfter spending a few weeks at Tadworth,Surrey, we entrained for Southampton docksand boarded the SS Samaria, an 18,000 tonliner. Accommodation for the officers wascrowded – six in a cabin meant for two -- butnothing like the mess decks below the waterlinewhere the men had to live, crowded togetherlike ants.We dined in mess kit, the first night in port –five courses and three wines! The troops hadtheir usual stew and rice pudding plus anorange. The next day, we set sail with onedestroyer escort to the Clyde, where westayed two days – no shore leave – waiting forthe whole convoy to assemble. When wereached the open sea, the convoy was solarge – liners and cargo ships and eventramps – that it stretched almost as far as theeye could see. On the horizon were 12 destroyers,buzzing about like London taxis, andin the middle of the convoy a battleship andan aircraft carrier. Later, two cruisers appeared.About every half an hour, at a given signalfrom the flag captain, the whole convoyveered right or left. Occasionally, there wereangry lamp signals from the flag captain – anobliging sailor translated them to me – thateither a ship was belching out too muchsmoke or it was falling behind.The greatest culprit was the ‘Clan McDonald’,of about 2,000 tons, whose captain, finding hisship always in the rear, had had the boilersstoked to their maximum so that the smokefrom its funnels was like that from old blastfurnaces. Eventually, after two days, the shipwas so far behind it was not visible. We heardlater that a destroyer had stayed with it for aday till summoned back to the convoy, afterwhich it had been sunk by a submarine. Wenever saw a submarine or a torpedo, butevery day, we heard sounds of depth charges

51and saw, on the horizon, fountains of water. 800 burials.After travelling across the Atlantic, we returnedto dock in Freetown for fuel. After aday, when we were dying to get on dry land,but were not allowed, we proceeded, lesshalf the convoy, to Cape Town. The docksthere were thronged with white people, whoalmost fought each other to ‘adopt’ a soldierfor the week’s stay.Norman Yardley, who knew most of theSouth African cricketers, and I stayed withone of these, and the hospitality was overwhelming.We had been allowed to takewith us from England only £5, which wassoon exhausted on the boat, but I had nodifficulty in cashing a cheque for £5 in one ofthe banks. Nothing was too good for theEnglish troops!We set sail, with some regrets, bound forIndia but, to our surprise, a few days later,we docked at Mombassa, a hot sticky place,where we were able to take our platoons fora walk. On it, I spotted a chap in uniform ofthe West African Rifles who had been atOCTU with me. After putting the sergeant incharge, I accepted his invitation to lookround the village. All the huts were decoratedwith blown up coloured contraceptives.My pal told me that Army Command,worried by the high incidence of VD amongthe coloured troops, had issued each of themwith six, little knowing what they would beused for.Two weeks later, we docked at Bombay, butnot without interest and incident on the way.The sea was so blue that it resembled thecolour of a bad artist, and the phosphorescencewas as breathtaking as the flying fish.The atmosphere was soft, warm and so soporificwe spent all day on the deck. The onlythings that disturbed us were the constantburials at sea from other liners in the convoy.We learned later that some of the convoyhad been diverted to Madagascar, whichwas taken with minimum casualties. However,many had caught malaria; hence nearly(Editor: Further chapters will appear in ournext issue)CASEY’S CONTINENTALCAPERS (as Trevor Thewlis put it)by Adrian Casey (1951-59)Part 1I was a member of “theclass of ‘51ʺ from September1951 only toAugust 1956. Threedays after school brokeup, I then ‘left’ and setoff to attend DasKatharineum zu Lübeckin Lübeck, West Germany,until 22 December 1956. Establishedin the 14 th Century, this school was coeducationaland was said to be one of thetwelve best schools in Germany. After all ofnine days back in Scarborough, in the 1957New Year I set off for Paris and LycéeLakanal, in the suburb of Sceaux, Seine, for aterm. Lakanal was a boarding school withlocal day students and was all male at thattime. (There was an elderly nun who I believetaught religious matters to the firstyears but I saw no other women there.) Usefulthough the experience had been, by thetime I returned to SBHS after Easter I hadmissed so much of my weakest subjects, Literaturein English, German and French, thatI decided to spend a further year in Modern6B. Thus, in September 1957, I became anadopted member of “the class of ‘52ʺ!Lübeck - KatharineumI was a relatively experienced foreign travellerby then, as it was my third visit to thesame place in Germany. My German penfriendwas a pupil at the school and I hadspent two days there with him in December1955. I took the “Scarborough Flyer” (taggedonto the London train at York without havingto leave the train) and spent the night inLondon. There I managed to lose my way on

the Underground! Next morning I caught themorning boat train at Liverpool Street thattook me to Parkeston Quay, Harwich and the‘day boat’. I little thought, as I showed mypassport at the “British desk”, that within lessthan four years I would be an ImmigrationOfficer and standing on the other side of thatvery same desk. According to a notice by thepurser’s office, the Dutch ferry was fitted withDenny-Brown stabilisers; they did little goodas far as I was concerned. I had taken seasicknesstablets; although I was not actuallyvomiting sick, the side effects were so awfulthat I never took such tablets again - I preferredvomiting! (Oddly enough, I have neverbeen seasick since.)As soon as the train moved off from Hoek vanHolland, I went to the restaurant car, where Ifound the same Dutch steward as on my previousoutward trip in December 1955. A coupleof cups of coffee and a good meal soonovercame the side effects of the sea-sicknesstablets. Among the other passengers on thetrain in Holland was a drunken Norwegianseaman clutching a bottle of gin. Also on thetrain were two khaki-uniformed Dutch Marechausee(immigration) officers who werechecking passports. The seaman was standingoutside our compartment, obviously givingthem some lip; they were out of our field ofvision until suddenly a uniformed arm shotout with a fist on the end and knocked theNorwegian down! When they asked to seeour documents, everybody was tremendouslypolite. At the next station there was an unscheduledstop where we all watched as hewas literally thrown off the train.Changing trains at Hamburg was a doddle,even though the station was busy. Arriving atLübeck Hauptbahnhof a few hours beforedawn, I was met off the train by a uniformedrailway police officer who explained that myhosts, the Schröders, had been delayed ontheir way back from Frankfurt and there wasnobody at their home yet. I would thereforehave to wait at the station for several hoursfor somebody to collect me. He let me leavemy luggage in the police office and settled me52in the station cafeteria. I breakfasted on ersatzcoffee, black bread (it’s dark brown), margarineand plum jam, read the newspaper anddozed until about midday when the BavarianHaustochter (au pair) collected me. (Her namewas Gudrun, but I used to call her ‘Liquorice’because it gives you a Gudrun for yourmoney!)I had already met the two Schröder sons andknew something of their family with whom Iwas to stay for the next five months. HerrSchröder was a Lutheran pastor at St Martin’schurch who had two sons and two daughters.My rent was £7 a month, which was excellentvalue. There was a sink and cold tap outsidemy garret, which overlooked the side of thechurch. I had to wash and shave in cold water.The mattress on the bed was in three sections,which had to be rotated once a week. Ihad to leave my bed open first thing in themorning and make it neatly after breakfast.The bedding was a starched bottom sheet thatwas changed once a week, a feather duvetwith a cover that Gudrun changed once amonth, and a coarse army blanket.On the first laundry day I spotted MrsSchröder examining my bedsheet carefully forsigns of bedwetting or masturbation. She becamesuspicious when I did not submit myunderpants for examination and laundering -I washed them each night and dried them onthe radiator so that I would always have freshones. I adopted a similar procedure with mypyjama trousers before handing them in. Ioverheard her muttering about my personalhygiene for not wearing underpants. I dreadto think of her reaction if she had found semenstains on the bedclothes! (If I ever hadthe urge to masturbate, all I had to do wasthink of her face - she had a really ugly mug!)Every single day began at six, and each memberof the household was allotted a time slotin the lavatory - if I was late, I had to negotiatea different slot or wait till last. There werestrict rules about cleanliness in there andabout ‘slopping out’ - we each had a chamberpot in our bedroom and were supposed to usethat if necessary during the night to avoid

53The Scarborough Cricket Club will be pleased to see members of theOld Scarborians Association at any of the County and Festival matchesduring the 2003 cricket season. The programme of major fixtures isdetailed below.2003 MAJOR FIXTURES23rd - 25th JUNE : ENGLAND UNDER 17’s v YORKSHIRE ACADEMY23rd - 26 th JULY : FRIZZELL COUNTY CHAMPIONSHIPYORKSHIRE v HAMPSHIRE:27th JULY : NATIONAL CRICKET LEAGUEYORKSHIRE v KENT117th ANNUAL FESTIVAL10th AUGUST : YORKSHIRE v LANCASHIREFestival Sponsor - Scarborough Building Society11th AUGUST : COMBINED SERVICES v MCCFestival Sponsor - Sir Peter Yarranton12th AUGUST: YORKSHIRE LEAGUE v BRADFORD LEAGUEFestival Sponsor - Mr. Keith Moss13 th - 16th AUGUST : FRIZZELL COUNTY CHAMPIONSHIPYORKSHIRE v WORCESTERSHIREFestival Sponsor 13th - W. Boyes & Co. LimitedFestival Sponsor 14 th - Skanska Construction Limited13th AUGUST : TETLEY’S BITTER FESTIVAL DINNER17th AUGUST : CRICKET FESTIVAL SERVICE at ST. MARY’S PARISH CHURCHl7th AUGUST : NATIONAL CRICKET LEAGUEYORKSHIRE v WORCESTERSHIREFestival Sponsor –McCain Foods (GB) Limited(Programme subject to alteration)Have you ever thought of becoming a Member, and if so, do you know just what privilegesare attached to such membership? For £50.00 see 13 days of county and festival cricket witha turnstile value of about £145.00 with reduced rates for country, senior citizen and juniormembers.For further details contact The Secretary, Scarborough Cricket Club, Cricket Ground, NorthMarine Road, Scarborough, North Yorkshire, Y012 7TJ Telephone (01723) 365625

54disturbing the others. (I used to tip my washingwater into the chamber pot with anyurine and empty it all into the sink outsidemy room, although I had been told that disposingof urine in this way was verboten.)Prompt at 0700 hours we reported to the diningroom where we took it in turns to read apassage from the bible, sang a hymn to FrauSchröder’s piano accompaniment, said graceand sat to breakfast. This always consisted ofhaferflocken (oatflakes) with cold milk, coffeewith cold milk, schwarzbrot (black bread) andleberwurst liver sausage) or home-made apple& plum jam, but no hot food. I would thenmake up sandwiches for my lunch - I couldhave as many as I would eat, which I put in afrischhaltertüte (plastic bag). There was a 20-minutes walk to the school, which began ateight.On the first day I went straight to the enquirywindow and gave my name. I was greeted inEnglish, and a moment later a messengerarrived to book me in. I explained, as politelyas possible, that I wished to speak German asmuch as possible, which cheered up everybody.For the time being, I was signed in as amember of staff, while it was decided whichclass I would join. (This permission was neverrescinded, and I used to pop into the staffcommon-room now and again for coffee andbiscuits. I even had a pigeonhole, in which Iwould sometimes find an exercise book witha note from one of the English teachers askingabout some point of English usage, or askingwhether I minded filling in for him/her on acertain date.)Eventually, I settled for Untersekunda (Lower5 th ) with occasional attendances at the sciencearbeitsgemeinschaft, a sort of extra-curriculargroup at the end of the normal school day. Atthe school there was no assembly; that appearedto be a British institution. The registerwas taken by the class captain(klassensprecher). If you arrived late you simplyapologised to the teacher and took yourplace in class. There was no such thing asdetention for latecomers. Oh, yes, school finishedfor the day at 1 pm; the e-c groups wenton for up to two more hours. To compensatefor the short five-hour school day, there wasmore homework than we were given atSBHS. There was no such thing as school dinners,but there was a mid-morning break at10 when hot drinks in glass bottles and hotDanish pastries could be purchased from aroom in the basement. You made your selectionand carried them to the end of the roomwhere you paid for them. If you were first inline, the drink was almost too hot to hold andI learned to go in a couple of minutes later. Bythen the queue to pay was quite long and itwas possible to swallow the drink and eat thepastry before paying for them. However, theidea of not paying for something you hadalready consumed never crossed anyone’smind.The science arbeitsgemeinschaft was alwaysinteresting. (The science master had onceshared lodgings in France with a Scotsman,and he used to mimic his mispronunciation ofGerman during anecdotes. I remember himdescribing one occasion when the Scotsmanremarked, “Yes, we say ‘Beat Hoh-ven’ too.”)There was an experiment to produce varyingeffects by passing a very narrow beam oflight from a point source through two veryfine grids of different ratings to produce variouscolours of the spectrum. Another time weexperimented with polarising filters and Agfacolour negative film - we went on an outsidetrip for this one, using a Leica camera, thencame back and reversal processed the film;the colour negative film base was clear at thattime. The developing tank and film reel werestainless steel, and the film had to be removedafter the first development, exposedto light, then fed back into the reel in a sinkfull of water to avoid scratching, before completingthe processing.I wrote to both ‘Bon’ Clarke (from Germany)and Les Brown (from Germany and France)to let them know how I was doing. Also, allthe time I was away, I was kept up to date

55with a fortnightly exchange of letters withPeter “Pew” Mole in Modern 6B to whicheverybody in both 6Bs contributed. Besidesnews of doings and goings, these were enlivenedin both directions with liberal measuresof sixth form “humour”. This includedthe annual inter High School “Ebberston AndBack Race” for putty, and a reference to my“act with dry sticks” (my address in Lübeckwas at No 38, or acht und dreissig SchwartauerAllee ). There were regular requests for informationon German (and later French) slang orabout how to swear in those languages. Myforeign schoolmates used to borrow theseletters in the vague hope that they mightlearn more than was available in English lessons.Despite my enthusiasm for physics andchemistry, I was never much good at them atSBHS, but I enjoyed these lessons in Germany.Many a science lesson was enlivenedas I struggled to explain eruditely, in German,something which had previously defiedme in English, eventually tailing off with aNeddy Seagoon “Huuurrhh”. No one therewas familiar with the Goon Show, but myclassmates looked forward to its catchphrasesdropping from my lips. (“You can’t get thewood” was their favourite.) (In German,lurgi, of all things, turned out to be a processfor making ersatz coal gas, and the class spenta day being shown round the local lurgiworks!)It was while I was in Lübeck that the uprisingtook place in Hungary and the Suez crisisarose. Soviet and East German troops massedon the border with West Germany, which inthe case of Adrian Casey was only a mile orso away, and I used to take the tram to theborder for a look at the massed Soviet armour,all set to unleash World War III. Facingthem was a single Bundesgrenzschutz (Federalborder guard) officer in a field green Volkswagenwho advised me against taking photographsof the Russian tanks. (I had visions ofa Soviet invasion just to confiscate my film!)Everybody at the Katharineum expected meto have nothing but Suez on my mind andassumed I wanted to discuss the subject,which I did not. When I arrived one morningin a filthy mood, they assumed I had receivedbad news of the ‘war’; in fact, I was furiousbecause I had been unable to receive TheGoon Show on BFN the previous evening!The first English lesson following the latestGoon Show would feature me relating thestory of last night’s broadcast to a totally bewilderedclass. Some of my classmates hadtried listening to it but failed to see what wasfunny about, for example, a long silence andthe luxury version, an even longer silence. Ofcourse, a long silence taken out of context hadto be well-written to be funny, I explained!In one of Pew’s early letters, he reminded methat I was supposed to be learning Latin -from scratch in a foreign language! I decidedto go to an evening class, which was so wellrun that I could hold a simple conversation inLatin by the time I returned to SBHS. Thechap who sat next to me lived on a farm andinvited me to visit him and his family. I cycledout of the city and along some very minorroads, then along a cart track and eventuallyhad to dismount and follow a footpath tothe farmstead. I was made very welcome. Myfriend’s father confessed that he had been aNazi and showed me his party card and lapelbadge. In that tiny community it was practicallycompulsory to join the NSDAP, he toldme. He opened an old tin and showed mesomething he had kept as a reminder of howthings were in the Nazi-time: a cake of soapstamped “RJF” for Reines Juden Fett - PureJewish Fat. In the early days of concentrationcamps, he said, the people were told theywere segregation camps for Jews. By 1943though, you could be sent to a KZ(konzentrationslager) just for criticising thegovernment - or if your face didn’t fit atwork! A lot of the intelligentsia disappearedthat way, he told me. Of course, I was reminded,the British created the first concentrationcamps, in South Africa for the Boers.There were also some evening classes in Germanfor Germans, so I joined these. One of

56the teachers worked at the local technicalhigh school, which was next door to my digs.He inveigled me into teaching English Conversationfor a double period on Fridaymornings. I was introduced to my class ofover 40 students, who were my age, and leftto get on with it. It was a bit disconcerting togo into a classroom as a teacher, because allthe pupils stood up as I entered and chorused,“Guten Morgen, Herr Professor!” Forsome reason, this class enjoyed Goon humourmore than those at the Katharineum. I startedgoing out socially with them and was invitedto attend when one of the girls got married.The party lasted into the early hours and Iwas locked out of my digs. Ringing the doorbellat 2 a.m. must have woken the wholehousehold, but not a word was said to meafterwards.Bon Clarke had really taken me to task aftermy first holiday in Germany in 1954, becauseI had not practised speaking German as muchas he thought I should. My excuse was thateverybody there had wanted to speak English.He took me off to the library where herailed at me for “wasting your father’smoney!” Before leaving for Lübeck in 1956,he told me to tell people, “Ich kann nurDeutsch und Chinesisch! (I only speak Germanand Chinese.)” One day a Chinese Lutheranpastor came to visit the church, and theSchroder invited him to meet me so I couldpractice my Chinese. Of course, I had to admitto him that I did not speak Chinese. Hesympathised with my explanation - that I wasthere to study German - and taught me someMandarin. I recited a scene from a GoonShow about China, which he found amusing(I think it was the one about knocking sixthousand times on a door and asking for AhPong - “Curses! It’s always next door inChina!”). Another visitor to the house wasPastor Martin Niemöller. We had ‘done’ himin a German lesson with Bon, and Chicko (MrHampton) had mentioned him to me. Somebodytook a picture of me shaking his hand,but I have lost it.Most people outside school recognised me asa foreigner by my accent - but in view of myapparent inability to understand English (anopinion of me expressed by most members ofthe staff at SBHS at one time or another), andmy pathetic attempts at Latin, they usually letme use German in the end. (“What do youthink of my English? Is it good?” “Ach so! Esklingt sehr gut - aber was heißt es, hein? Itsounds very good - but what does it mean?”)The Katharineum had a good athletics team,which I joined and trained regularly withthem. During my term there were two sportsmeets against the other principal schools, theOberschule zum Dom (Cathedral School) andthe Johanneum. I was not allowed to play forthe Katharineum on either occasion, but I ranround the inside of the track shouting encouragementto my comrades. Instead of a startingpistol, there was a device made of twohinged pieces of wood. When these wereslammed together, it caused a loud bang.As I was preparing to leave at the end ofterm, the headmaster invited me to join himin his panelled study for coffee and sandwiches,handed me a certificate of attendanceand told me that I would be welcome back asa student teacher if ever I wished. He wishedme well in my intended career in the ForeignService and told me that a number of his formerpupils were in the West GermanAuslandsdienst. (I spent a day back there in1961, when he confessed that I spoke betterGerman than he did - I was very careful withgrammar and the use of such things as thefuture subjunctive. He was very pleased tolearn that I was now a member of the ImmigrationService, that had only 250 officers andwas considered the elite of the UK civil service.I won’t repeat what IOs thought of theDiplomatic Service!)At half-term, Johannes Schröder and I wenton a cycling holiday through Schleswig-Holstein. We set off for Neustadt in heavyrain and despite our cycling capes we weresoon soaked to the skin. I was wearing khakishorts and my bicycle had a black rubbersaddle. That night I discovered that the seat

of my shorts was stained black. We stayed ata Jugendherberge (youth hostel). Supper thatnight was a thick green concoction with suspicious-lookingbrown lumps floating in it. Itsmelled as bad as it looked. However, coldlager (in unlabelled Grolsch-type half-litrebottles) was very cheap and helped disguisethe taste. It was supposed to be low in alcoholso it could be sold in the youth hostel, butsome of the other patrons managed to get abit squiffy on it. (Johannes claimed to be teetotal,so he bought peppermint tea; then hetried some of my lager and found he preferredits effect.) In our dormitory that nightthere were mysterious scamperings in thedarkness. Then somebody shouted that tomorrow’ssupper had escaped and a torchlighthunt began for rats.In Schleswig we stayed with the Bishop ofSchleswig, Herr Westermann. There wasnone of the religious fervour that I had expected.We said grace before supper and thatwas it. The bishop had a dining table, chairsand a desk that had been made from the 800-year-old timbers from the steeple of the cathedral,which had to be rebuilt after the war. Hehad invited an American tourist to stay thenight, a Mr Pifer from Ohio. He introducedme to adding strawberry jam to boiled eggs atbreakfast. I also remember breakfast there forthe vast amount of sliced cheeses and sausagesto fill the brötchen (rolls) and butterfrom a local farm. After the meal the bishoptook us to the common by his house anddemonstrated how to throw a boomerang,which he had acquired while working in Australia.It spun away into the distance then as itbegan its return flight about two metresabove the ground a party of ramblersemerged from a dip, right in its path. Fortunatelyit did not hit them although they heardthe whizzing sound it made as it passed closeabove them. They were ever so nice about itwhen they recognised the bishop as the personwho had thrown it.At Flensburg I popped over the border intoDenmark for an hour or so and bought somebottles of Tuborg strong dark beer. The youth57hostel was a wooden building with no fireescape, and the lights were turned off at teno’clock. During the night the Tuborg tookeffect and twice I felt my way along to whereI thought the toilet was. When I relieved myself,there was no answering sound of water.In the morning I discovered I had peed downthe stairs! The next night we stayed at anewly-built hostel where we were the onlyguests. The warden said it wasn’t worth cookingfor just two, so we bought pumpernickeland honey and made sandwiches. With theplace to ourselves, we washed our clothesand hung them to dry on the radiators. In themorning we spent about half an hour in theshowers - there was a coin-operated meter forthe hot water. At Husum there wasn’t ayouth hostel so we stayed at the local pfadfinderhaus(scout hostel). They weren’t verywelcoming and the boy scouts had scoffed allthe supper; there was only peppermint tealeft. In the morning we were only offeredersatz coffee.Then it was back to Neustadt. After two dayswithout a proper meal, even the peas andsausage stew was welcome, and we actuallyhad second helpings. As I trumpeted in thebog that night, I explained to a fellow hostellerwhat I had eaten. “Ach, Erbsensuppe istgefährlich!” he exclaimed (Pea soup is dangerous).Like many German cities, Lübeck has tramsas well as buses. One day I was cycling to thetown centre when the front tyre got stuck in atramline just as a tram was bearing down onme with the driver sounding his bell at me. Ionly managed to prise the tyre free in the nickof time!I was also shown round the local slaughterhouseand followed the progress of both cattleand pigs through the processes. I mayhave misunderstood, but I had the impressionthat pigs were only stunned by the electrocutionprocess. Some of the terms usedwere new to me and in such cases I wasshown the item in question. In particular Irecall Eingeweide and was shown a wheelbarrowfull of them - still moving pigs’ entrails! I

left the place with a souvenir parcel of freshlymadepork sausages and beef steak.58On two nights a week I had a Latin eveningclass followed by a German one elsewhere inthe city. There was insufficient time for me toreturn to my digs for the evening meal but atthat time of year there were wurstbuden (sausagestalls) in the Rathausplatz. For the equivalent ofhalf a crown I got a large griddled sausage, sauerkraut,two brötchen, real butter, a pot of mustard,and a large mug of real coffee. I alwayswent to the same stall, where the proprietor gotto know me, and I soon noticed that I was giventhe biggest sausage for the standard price. Onmy last visit before I returned to Scarboroughthey gave me a free meal and a box of Lübeckmarzipan in sausage shapes!I had to obtain a residence permit(Aufenthaltserlaubnis) from the town hall(Rathhaus) soon after I arrived in Lübeck. I alsohad to report my impending departure, onwhich occasion the official was very pleasant tome and sent me along to meet the Bürgermeister(mayor). This stout gentleman asked for myimpressions of his city then entertained me tocoffee and schlagsahnekuchen (cream cakes) andpresented me with a signed copy of the officialsouvenir booklet and the coat of arms in Lübeckmarzipan.Both Lübeck and the Katharineum have websites at www.tzl.de and www.tzl.de/katharineum respectively. The former includesa slide-show of the old area of the city, wherethere is a laser show, while the school one hasphotos of the building both interiors and exterior.There used to be a section for former pupilsto get in touch but that has now been removedand the old lady is behaving herself with thegreatest decorum.ANSWERS TO THE WORLD’SEASIEST QUIZ (See page 36)1) How long did the Hundred Years Warlast? 116 years2) Which country makes Panama hats? Ecuador3) From which animal do we get cat gut? Sheepand Horses4) In which month do Russians celebrate theOctober Revolution? November5) What is a camelʹs hair brush made of?Squirrel fur6) The Canary Islands in the Pacific are namedafter what animal? Dogs7) What was King George VIʹs first name? Albert8) What colour is a purple finch? Crimson9) Where are Chinese gooseberries from? NewZealand(Editor: What do you mean, you failed?)CROSSWORD SOLUTIONNovember 2002The first correct solution was received fromAdrian Casey (1951-59) who was proudly sportinghis prize of an OSA tie at the London Lunch.Congratulations Adrian, and thank you to themembers who took the time to complete and1 2 3 4 5 6 7B I F F I S H E R W O O D8 9L O G T L H L C10 11A J P E R R Y B R E A D T HK P O L O R S B12 13E P I C U R E W R E A T HM S S L A E14 15 16 17O C H R E E X P O S U R E SR S A C18 19 20 21 22E X T R I N S I C S M I T HH L K C M N23 24 25T A Y L O R E X A M P L E26A L E A D L L I27 28D R A U G H T O X B L O O DO M A I U Y D E29 30B I L L P O T T S H E I Rsend in their solutions.PRIZE CROSSWORD - 3Compiled by Alan Bridgewater(1933-40)Answers please, to reach the Editor before 30thJune 2003. Photocopies accepted. For contactdetails see page 1.Across7 This company has its name on the gates ofwhat the older members would call The Athletic

59Ground. (6)8 (and 12 across) Battles of yesteryearare refought here during thesummer. (8)9 Short for Reserve Officers TrainingCorps. (4)10 (and 19 across) The local OSAdinners have been held here recently.(9)12 See 8 across (4)13 His Chemistry lessons wereoften punctuated by Welsh exclamations!(9)18 Dues were paid when wevisited the tuck-shop (4)19 See 10 across (5)20 Our Maths teachers taught usabout these parts of the circle. (4)22 The old Odeon might now becalled this. (9)1 2 3 4 5 67 89 10 1112 13 14 15 161718 19 20 2122 23 242526 27 28 29 3031 3224 Two members of the staff had this name. Onewas headmaster and the other taught Maths toSchool Certificate level. (4)26 Oneʹs first experience of Room 10 was certainlythis! (9)30 It was best to do this when told to do somethingby some members of staff! (4)31 A wing threequarter had to be this if he wishedto survive. (8)32 We all used these to show that we had missedout a letter or word. (6)Down1 When we had passed the entrance exam we couldall be considered to be this. (8)2 This is the time when skipping on the Foreshore isthe foremost activity. (10)3 When it came to using paint, many of us couldsaid to be this. (5)4 The chemists among us would say that this is aquartz-like form of hydrated silica. (4)5 A powder most often used for babies. (4)6 We have this when Mary has left Yarmouth. (4)11 A mild expression which might have been usedby teachers when marking the homework offeringof some pupils! (3)14 In medicine this is defined as a stroke or seizure.(5)15 Harwood and Stainton come to mind when thisis mentioned. (4)16 Tich Richardson was always telling us to watchthis while he went through it! (10)17 A state in Bill Pottsʹ homeland. (4)21 Some of the members started their scholasticcareers at these schools, one of which was in QueenStreet. (8)23 The sheltered side of a ship. (3)25 A Biology teacher after Taffy. (5)27 Tarzanʹs real forename! (4)28 The name we all used for Maurice Cornish. (4)29 In the morn we all hoped that P.T. would betaken by Stodd. (4)LATE NEWSPeter Newham(1954-61) writesCongratulations to all concerned with the LondonLunch, which was most enjoyable. Thestrong Scarborough contingent who had madethe effort to travel down from Civilization quiteput to shame those of us who have not exertedthemselves to attend the Scarborough Dinners –

even if, as I understand from Mike Bowman,several Yorkshire wives had been so suspiciousas to accompany their husbands on this occasionto keep a watchful eye on them!On the subject of Summer Times, as a relative newboy I feel somewhat presumptuous in expressinga view, but “The Scarborian” or “The Old Scarborian”(if we admit to not being as young as ourfantasies) would surely be preferable as a title.Even if one ignored the incorrect “summer” connotationsof a twice yearly magazine, I like tothink our academic age range was more appropriatelythe Spring rather than the Summer ofour lives, otherwise some of us are in danger ofslipping, if not into second childhood, into a latewinter!Having said that, obviously the contents of theMagazine matter more than the name, and althoughI sometimes with age struggle to rememberrecent events, I surprise myself at my belatedrecollection of events some 45 years ago, triggeredpartly by Summer Times and partly by afund of stories from seasoned reprobates at theLuncheon, Gridley P being a particular culprit,who (perhaps not wholly deservedly) still looksnot totally dissimilar from his appearance allthose years ago, which is perhaps more than canbe said of some of the rest of us!It all seems a long time ago (and indeed it was)but we are what we are today as a result, althoughI am not sure to whether such a statementis a matter for self-congratulation or otherwise!(Editor: Peter’s response is as a result of myquery at the London Lunch as to whether thetitle Summer Times - which we understand wasoriginally intended to represent the “Summer”of our lives - rather than the season of publication,remains appropriate. I expressed the viewthat the present title is possible a little tweeand from a quick straw poll at the lunch itseemed there was probably a majority for achange to say, The Scarborian or The Old Scarborian.In true democratic fashion members lefta final decision to your committee. However,members’ views would be appreciated beforeany decision is taken)60FORTHCOMING EVENTSJoint Reception & Buffet: Saturday September27th 2003 with SGHS Old Girls (for members &guests). Booking form enclosed.AGM: Tuesday 25th November 2003 7.30pmBoden Room Stephen Joseph Theatre.Christmas Dinner: Friday 28th November 2003Palm Court Hotel.London Lunch, (provisional) Saturday March13th 2004.POSTCRIPT• An index to Volume 42 is available free ofcharge in exchange for a stamped addressedenvelope, from Adrian Casey, 22Gordon Road, Surbiton, Greater London. KT59AR E-mail: YCLEFTSTICK@aol.com• A CD containing all issues of Summer Timessince 1999, viewable on a computer, costs only£2 (£3 overseas). Order from David Fowler.• A few copies of Frank Binders tour de forceremain available from Mike Rines. He offersthese at £5 a copy plus £1 UK p& p. (Proceedsto FB’s family). Please contact Mike direct at 32Saxon Way, Melton, WOODBRIDGE, Suffolk,IP12 1LG Telephone 01394 610034.E-mail rines@rinesm.freeserve.co.uk• The final copy date for our next issue is 15thAugust 2003.• John Forster (1955-60) appeared on “Whowants to be a Millionaire” on Saturday 5thApril. Not bad timing for an Accountant! Heexcelled – and won £128,000 – without coughing!He agreed we could mention his successand added, “To answer the question everyoneʹsasking: I may well escape some of thenext English winter by going to see friends inAustralia. I shall almost certainly go to Trinidad(maybe Barbados, too) for the cricket etcthis time next year. Itʹs all very exciting. IMAY be able to come up with something forthe Autumn Summer Times - but no promises!

4Published by The Old Scarborians Association, Telephone 01723 365448Printed by Prontaprint, 5 Station Shops, Westborough, ScarboroughTelephone 01723 367715