大象传媒

Suddenly - literally - I was at Junior School - to be exact Parochial Church of England School. Somewhere along the line there was lack of communication - one or two of us went back to Margaret Stancomb's to start the Autumn term in September 1941 only to be told we should have been at Parochial - and so we arrived mid-morning! Parochial is still going strong in a modern building but the old school - now converted into flats - is still in Church Street and it brings back memories whenever I drive or walk past. Just a bit about the old building - it is built in the shape of a cruxifix - two floors - three rooms on each floor. The rooms in the wider part each housed two classses divided by screens - today this would be called open plan. So there were eight classes in all - 4 A's and 4 B's. Two classes shared the large room on the ground floor. I was in 1B with Miss Jackson - and eventually moved to 1A -and so being a year behind I never reached the dizzy heights of 4A. Mrs Cox taught the other class in our room - and so Miss Jackson and Mrs. Cox were always together - and I and sure other old pupils have always remembered them in this way. Two more teachers I recall were Mr Gear (who I think had come down from London )and Miss Blackmore - both of whom taught me. Miss White taught 4A - as I say I never reached there - to us it was considered the 'elite' class. To start with I think it was the only room heated by a large coal fire. Miss White was a very prim lady - and the task of one of her children was to help her take off her large coat at the start of the day and help her put it back on before she left for home. When we were in Mr. Gear's class next door we could see through into her room. She must have been a good teacher however as many of her pupils went on to High School. There were two playgrounds - one for the boys and one for the girls - and in he boy's playground there were two brick buildings. One housed the old fashioned open air toilets - no protection whatever the weather - and in those days in winter both boys and the building were often frozen up! Then there was the air raid shelter - which brings me to the first of real wartime memories. This was typical of the air raid shelters - an opening at each end with wooden seats along the walls - dark and dingy - and not enough room for us all - there may have been another in the other playground - but in those days for the boys it was strictly forbidden territory - divided by a high wall and gate always closed. Boys and girls went in by separate entrances to the school and playgrounds and we only met in class or on the way home. We did however have the privilege of the Rectory paddock across the road in Union Street where we had games. Being a Church school the Rector - a kindly man - often visited us - and in the Autumn brought us apples from his trees. When we weren't using the field it was often occupied by sheep and another memory is of these sheep or cows going to market being driven along the road in between rows of army tanks parked there during the day. Something else very special for us. On Ascension Day we all went over to the Church for a service and then we had a holiday - no more school that day! Apart from Ushers's brewery lorries also near the school there was very litle other traffic. We made our own way to and from school and the only time there were any mothers at the gates was when we may have been going into town shopping. I do not recall much bullying in those days but there was one boy - larger than me - who was making my life a misery. One day he was annoying me and as I got near home I saw my sister. This must have given me courage and without warning I just let him have it. He never bothered me aain and although not close friends we became quite good classmates! Back to the shelters - obviously these were not adequate and so it was arranged that during an air raid some classes would cross the road to St. James Church - some 200 - 300 yards . My parents decided that sheltering in such a building was very dangerous and so we had special permission to go home during air raids - a group of friends also joined us - actually this was slightly further than the Parish Church but we didn't object. If there were air raids during the night school started later - and so again, as at the infants school in the early days of the war teaching was severely disrupted. There are more of these memories in 'When Trowbridge was bombed', including the piece of shrapnel which landed in our headmaster's chair - Mr. Bryant - not as yet mentioned in this article. Another memory is going to school when it was just getting light. We had double summer time which meant that in winter it was still dark at nine o'clock. Trowbridge was right in the front line in so far as the army was in the town - but at several locations in the town Spifires were also being built - right in the town centre yards from the school. National savings were therefore very important - Trowbridge actually paid for one Spitfire - and every Friday we would bring our savings to school. These were saving stamps - and when a 拢1 was saved this would be converted into a Savings Cerificate. There was a Somerset and Wilts Trustees Savings Bank just along the road - I think the forerunner of the TSB now part of Lloyds - and I recall going along there - probably some of us with a teacher - to bank the money. Armistice Day was then observed on llth November - and again we took our money to school for a poppy. 1d for a plain poppy but if mum or dad could afford sixpence you had one with a green leaf! Those were also the days of the one third pint size bottles of milk for each child. The crates of milk must have come early - in winter they were often frozen and the fire in Miss White's room was used to thaw them. I still remember the taste of partly burnt/boiled milk. If as a result of the visit to the school doctor it was considered more than milk was felt necessary we were instead given a horlicks tablet -wrapped up in paper like a sweet. Back to Miss Jackson's and Mrs. Cox's classes. Disgrace or disaster! The ladies decided we should put on a small play - it was in in the space between the two classes where I think we had the piano. Sing a song of sixpence - and at the exact time the four and twenty blackbirds had to jump out of the pie. I was one of the birds that jumped from under the large sheet at completely the wrong time - the play was ruined - and our teachers were not pleased. I however still have very happy memories of these two classes. Here I learned to write - on paper with tram lines - and I discovered the joys of such books as Alice in Wonderland. Miss Jackson used to read these to us as part of the afternoon lessons. No modern songs in those days - but we sang all the old ones - such was When I was going to Strawberry Fair - On the Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond - and many such others. One lovely sequal to those days - long after the war. Many years later our Church used to lead a monthly service at an old folks' home where Mrs. Cox - then very elderly - was a resident. One evening she said to those in the room I used to teach Stanley - now I am sitting at his feet. Eventually it was up to Mr. Gear's class - now we were preparing for the 11+ - and all the teaching that implied - particularly arithmetic - now called maths. In those pre-decimal days we had tons and hundredweights - pounds shillings and pence - miles, yards, furlongs and chains = to mention just a few old imperial currency, weights and measures. In order to get us ready we had extra lessons after school - and thanks to this extra tuition - although only in 3A - not with Miss White! I passed my 11+. Sadly however this was not the end of that particular story. You then had to go for an interview. Another unforgetable experience - My parents decided we should to for a holiday - time allowed off - but on the Monday I arrived back I was told I had to go to Trowbridge High School for an interview. A very timid ten year old - still hobbling from a holiday accident in the Isle of Wight found himself in the presence of a daunting somewhat seemingly elderly headmaster - with a black flowing gown - like a scene from Goodbye Mr. Chips. Needless to say I didn't pass and went on Nelson Haden Secondary Modern Boys School. So goodbye to wartime school days - VJ Day - summer holidays and into a new post-war era.

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