Monday, 17 November 2014

The Alma Mater

It doesn't seem that long ago, but just over forty five years have passed since I started upon my grammar school education. Times were different then, quite markedly so. The teachers, (masters), referred to us by our surnames. Only those pupils in upper sixth were allowed to enter the front portals of the dear old alma mater. The masters wore their gowns on all occasions and the word of a prefect had to be obeyed without any dissent. The job of the PE teacher had just passed from the retired Sergeant Major to the ,"professionally," qualified individual.


The members of the school's ACF attended school on Friday in full uniform and after drill peered intently at the targets in the rifle range. The appearance of the headmaster in the classroom caused us all to stand to attention. Failure to have your dictionary to hand resulted in detention. Allowing your hair to touch your collar meant a trip to the nearest barber and a checkup upon your return to school. It all sounds very harsh but we didn't think it was. We acknowledged disicipline and expected it.


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