Greetings Noble Sir

by Nigel Flaxton

  Absolute horror flashed across every child’s face on our boat. As one they rushed to the side and leaned over dangerously as they screamed and shot hands and arms in the direction of the speeding Royals. Our boat tilted sharply in the same direction and the Captain urged us to tell the children to step back. We tried but they were responding to an unseen group force.

  Whether we were in serious danger I know not, but the situation was retrieved by the Duke of Edinburgh who, ever alert, turned towards the source of the dire screams and nudged the Queen to look in our direction. She did so and both gave an especial wave to our children. They knew that because there was no other boat beside us. The screams changed to wild cheers and, fortunately, a move backwards, the better to dance up and down. Amazed faces turned to their respective teachers as they shared the obvious fact that Royalty had responded to them personally.

  Very shortly afterwards we were allowed to continue our chugging, but I doubt whether the children took the slightest notice of our explanations about the Tower of London or any other famous waterside building. The cliché is inevitable - their day had been made.

  Frankly, I was puzzled by this. Certainly we had featured the Coronation in our classrooms. Occasionally special events were broadcast at times which fitted the school day; indeed Mr Brand had surprised us all by calling everyone into the hall to listen to the funeral service of King George VI - and surprised us even more by making everyone stand. True, this was for the religious part only, but inevitably one or two children fainted. He let Miss Rees and Taff Hughes carry them out.

  So the children were fairly knowledgeable about the immediate members of the Royal Family and the Queen in particular. But in the emotion which swept through them on the Thames that day I saw the explanation of why people will wait for hours to see a Royal event, even crossing the globe to do so. I am sufficiently interested in them to spend hours in front of a television; I contrived to do so for the actual Coronation. I found a friend who had a set (black and white, of course) but was not at all interested to watch and was quite content to let Rocky and me look after the house for the day. But I have never been moved to watch them in the flesh.

  There was an occasion when Princess Margaret visited the city and our School was allowed to stand on the pavement to watch her car. When she appeared the large black limousine sped past, spurred on of course by the children’s cheers. But the overwhelming impression I had was of a small person quite dominated by the space around her. She was quite alone in the open back and the driver and one passenger by his side seemed to take no notice of her.

  I did meet the Duke of Edinburgh many years later at a Gold Awards Ceremony for his Scheme at St James’s Palace. Recipients were grouped into parties of about eighteen in the charge of one individual who was the official presenter. In fact he or she was told not to speak until addressed by the Duke, so I didn’t have much to say until he asked who I was and then how many of the group came from my School. He was quite impressed when I answered ‘twelve’. I wondered briefly whether to thank him for possibly averting a river tragedy some thirty five years before, but decided he might not remember.

  Fifty years after our London visit the Queen celebrated her Golden Jubilee. I still had some battered photos of my classroom in Dayton Road at the time of the Coronation - images of St Edwards Crown were liberally spread across the walls - and forty plus well behaved children beamed at the camera from their desks, so I scanned it, cleaned it up and sent a copy to the School for interest. The Head responded with a pleasant letter, explaining that probably I wouldn’t notice much difference in the buildings. He enclosed a copy of the School’s brochure with pictures of the current scholars in smart red uniforms. I certainly noticed the contrast in clothing which was very evident when my picture was placed side by side. Obviously there were no Jimmy Rs. There was also a greater cross section in the other kind of colour, a change which occurred in the mid fifties and which I noticed by being in a house in an area which became popular with immigrants. Having spent my life up to that time with the notion that all people, of whatever race, are equal, I was shocked to hear some of the comments of white people I knew whom I had thought were polite and pleasant. Dayton Road in the noughties seemed to be thoroughly integrated if the brochure was an accurate portrayal. That pleased me greatly. The buildings had been very well painted as well.

  Chapter 38

  My training, my contribution to the work of the Royal Air Force, and my first few years teaching at Dayton Road covered seven years. That brought me to the exceptionally noteworthy year 1953. It seemed to be the year when the UK began to shake off the War years and the ensuing sharp austerity. The Queen celebrated it with her Coronation. Stanley Matthews celebrated it by getting an FA Cup Winners medal at last. Ed Hillary and Tenzing Norgay celebrated it by getting to the summit of Everest. Gordon Richards celebrated it by winning the Derby, also at last. But histories of the year have overlooked one other celebration.

  Rocky and I were married.

  The guest list was rather extended because six families were involved - Rocky’s mother had died shortly after she was born and mine died when I was six. Both our fathers remarried - mine quite rapidly, Rocky’s after eighteen years, so we both had step mothers. Both were delightful; Rocky was her father’s bridesmaid. Mine was loving, affectionate and very sensible in dealing with me. She also gave me a half-brother who, though nearly nine years younger, has been a great friend over the years. A long time ago he emigrated to Canada, but not before he married a lovely Scots girl. I acceded to his request to be his Best Man

  The staff and pupils of Dayton Road gave us a lovely dinner and tea service, the latter having gold tea and coffee pots. When the children were allowed to view this we were amused to hear one girl’s hushed comment that we would be rich with all that real gold. If only.......

  We were married at the beginning of April, a popular time because you could claim married tax allowance back to the previous 5th April. The obvious Saturday was the 4th so we did quite well out of that arrangement. I had attended the Church since a very young age because my father was very committed to it. Its members were keen on organising many activities which had slightly enlivened my teenage years which ran simultaneously with the War. In particular there was a very good amateur dramatic society which both of us joined. The inevitable friendships we built up meant that even more people were likely to expect invitations to our wedding. Rocky’s father, bless him, accepted the well-over-a-hundred guest list with aplomb. Mine chipped in with payment for the room.

  The service was at 12.00 noon. Its one unusual feature was the second hymn. Cwm Rhondda doesn’t come to mind as the tune for a wedding hymn, but Rocky was adamant she wanted it. So I wrote some words which I hope were reasonably appropriate to the event.

  We chose Ambleside for our honeymoon, so fairly late in the afternoon we were taken to the station and soon sped northwards, inevitably changing at Crewe. The line ended at Windermere, so Ambleside hotels had taxis waiting conveniently at the station entrance. Drivers waved small notices with their clients’ names. Rocky and I were vaguely concerned when one elderly man with bloodshot eyes let it be known that he was for The Oaks Hotel. As other taxis sped away we were slowly ushered into his, with another couple, obviously also just married. He installed the other man in the front seat and me between Rocky and the other young bride. Then he set off from the quiet and empty taxi rank.

  Within a very short time he had passed every other Ambleside bound taxi. This was achieved by some ferocious driving which pitched me first into Rocky and then the other lady. By the time we reached The Oaks, quite high up on a hillside, I had stopped apologising by mutual agreement. We then went inside at 11.00pm. The hotel had arranged a meal, but understandably the proprietor said he hoped we would come down for it quite quickly to enable the staff to go home. Accordingly we had the briefest of washes and descended to the dining room. Whilst e
ating, however, I realised I had left the room keys in our room and so shamefacedly had to ask for my oversight to be rectified. Rocky was not best pleased, though she moderated her glares when the other man plodded off to the proprietor for a duplicate key. At least I was first.

  During the night there was a snowfall so in the sunshine next morning the countryside looked most attractive. The weather remained dry for the whole week so we enjoyed a mixture of hill walking (we had packed our heavy climbing boots) and coach trips. All too soon we prepared to return home and I paid the bill. I kept it as a reminder. The total, including a few drinks at the bar, was three guineas (three pounds three shillings). Certainly value for money!

  Chapter 39

  After one more term at Dayton Road Junior School I followed advice given me three years earlier by Mr Bartram to apply for a transfer to a secondary school. Because teachers were appointed to the city’s Education Department rather than to individual schools they could be moved from one to another for various reasons. It was accepted that I wanted to make my career in the secondary sector. It was also the case that the post-war child population bulge had moved up as well so I was simply going with it.

  It would be remarkably boring to recount all my experiences with secondary classes as I have with my early months at Dayton Road as I embarked on my learning curve in the profession. I spent six happy years at the Ashtree Secondary Modern School in a northern area of the city amongst a large housing estate built between the wars. The Head gave me plenty of opportunity to experience breadth in teaching. So I spent a total of six months with groups taken for three weeks each to the city’s Camp Schools. These were intended to give urban children experience of the country. Two were quite old with fairly Spartan accommodation, one for boys and one for girls. The Head contrived to get Rocky to leave Dayton Road, which she did with some reluctance and take a one term residential appointment at the girls’ Camp School. A new group of secondary girls appeared every three weeks - some from inner city schools with varied behaviour problems, so Rocky gained much useful experience, such as when there was an altercation in the toilets which she investigated to find one girl threatening another with a knife.

  ‘I’ll have that, thank you,’ she said, seizing the weapon.

  The girl, surprised by such positive action by an adult, relinquished it immediately. There was a resident Head, as there was at the boys’ Camp School, but our experience was that they left discipline and control to their resident teachers - one at the girls’ establishment.

  After some negotiation with a local Councillor the Head of Ashtree School then contrived to get Rocky appointed to his staff, which had been his intention. Having met her with me at some functions he recognised what a good teacher she was, thus for a time we were officially professional colleagues again. So, when the powers-that-be at the Education Office bought a lovely Victorian mansion in the countryside and decided to allow a bold experiment - a group of both boys and girls from a mixed school to be residential for three weeks and the Ashtree was chosen for this, it was agreed that Rocky and I, as a married couple, both with Camp School experience, should accompany the Head.

  The School then received quite astounding advice on control of a mixed group, the most idiotic of which was that we teachers should take it turns to hide in the bushes to spy on the youngsters in their free time and nip any sexual shenanigans in the bud! Of course the boys and girls behaved impeccably and we returned with other such groups. One occasion was near Christmas and we enjoyed special services in the local Church. We also decorated the mansion in true 19th century style including a massive log fire in the equally massive grate in the main hall.

  We also embarked on another new experience for schools in the mid fifties - holidays abroad. Europe was emerging from the trauma of war, so such visits were novel. Our first was to Versailles where we stayed in fairly Spartan accommodation in a school near the Palace. which gave us plenty of opportunities to visit the building and its grounds. There were also visits to Paris - the Louvre, the Science Museum, Montmartre (at midnight! - at the Head’s insistence), river trips on the Seine, being received by the Mayor’s Secretary - with attendant photographers, whose work appeared in the papers back home.

  Our next visit saw us staying in a hotel on top of a Swiss mountain, near Lucerne. This was spectacular and we enjoyed glorious weather. There were coach trips around valleys, glaciers, lake trips, museum visits - experiences which to-day would seem run-of-the-mill but which then were quite adventurous. The one unexpected snag was that the last funicular journey to the hotel was 6.00pm, so we had to call on all our ingenuity to keep fifty teenagers occupied each evening.

  We saw a surprising phenomenon one morning when the mountain top was bathed in strong sunlight and the valley was filled with cloud. I knew of the Brocken Spectre from reading mountaineering books, so I was able to explain the shadow everyone could see projected on to the mist with a circular rainbow around the head. What intrigued us all was that although fifty or so individuals stood side by side each could see only one shadow - their own. You can sometimes see the feature from an aircraft window when the sun is on one side and clouds below on the other. I managed to film my shadow with the cine camera I took on this journey which, together with many still black and white shots, provided an interesting record for the parents’ evening which followed our return.

  My interest in photography supplemented my activities in all schools at which I taught throughout my career. Whilst at the Ashtree School I began to use colour, with two and a quarter inch square transparencies (from my second hand Rolleiflex camera) made up into substantial glass slides exhibited in a very large display case with internal illumination made in the School’s Woodwork department. The Head thoroughly enjoyed the kudos he received from all visitors who saw this in the small space rather grandly referred to as the foyer.

  A notable alteration to teachers’ pay scales was introduced in 1956. Prior to that there were assistant teachers, a few posts of responsibility (£50 pa) Chief Assistants and Heads. Given that there was one each of the last two at each school and many more of the first, promotion was not easy to come by. In the city it was policy to appoint from within, so, for example a Chief Assistant’s post at a particular school would be advertised, people would send in applications to the Office and the Headteacher would visit each one to see them teach. He or she would then draw up a short list to be interviewed by the Personnel Section of the Education Committee. No outsiders were allowed. This engendered loyalty to the city. But in 1956 more posts of responsibility and Heads of Departments were created and Chief Assistants became Deputy Heads. Even Heads of Department were divided into posts worth £200 pa and £125 pa. Posts of responsibility were £75 pa. The first allocation of the new posts depended on the number of pupils on roll and were entirely at the behest of each Headteacher, as had been the case of the few £50 posts. I had been given one of these, but it was not secure. In some schools they were rotated between all the staff to avoid favouritism! The difference with the new scales was their security and hence their inclusion in final pension calculations.

  At the Ashtree I had been given a post of responsibility for oversight of History, so under the new arrangements the Head gave me a £125 Head of Department (History) post, of which the School received an allocation of two. It also had two £200 posts, one he gave for English and the other for Geography. The second £125 post went to Maths. These allocations had little to do with his view of subject hierarchy, it was much more a reflection of his staff relations. He had taught with the Head of Maths years before; the light shone out of the eyes of the Head of Geography for him - a young teacher of my age but more favourable. The Head of English was a middle aged Scot with a degree in the subject who had spent years in a grammar school but had recognised where promotion lay in the post-war new order. Since being allocated to the School by the Office the Head had held him in awe. He was, of course, the only gradu
ate on the staff. The pupil roll numbered just over 600 and the assistant teacher roll was 20, a pupil/teacher ratio of 30 which was the norm for secondary schools.

  Near the end of 1957 Rocky gave birth to our first son, followed fifteen months later by the second. Also in 1959 we left the city for good. For some time Rocky had advised me that I stood a better chance of promotion in other areas. Very doubtfully I applied for a £200 Head of English at a new school being formed by the amalgamation of two smaller ones in Nottingham. I was surprised to be called for interview, but when I met the other candidates I realised they were all local, so I imagined I had been called to preserve the notion that the short list was more widespread. Certainly I enjoyed the experience rather more than the one following my return from the RAF, but this time I was more prepared. The Committee spent a long time deliberating and at one point the man who, to me, was the obvious choice and already Head of English at one of the closing schools, jumped up and muttered audibly,

  ‘When they take this long it usually means an outsider is in the running.’

  Slowly it dawned that he meant me, but finally his worries were swept side and he was invited to take the post. Before I left I was called aside by an official of the Education Department who thanked me for my application and said they would welcome another from me if I cared to submit one for another post. On my return home I told Rocky how right she had been. So next I applied for a post in Kent - and got it!

  In this case the appointment was made entirely by the Head, who had himself taught for many years in the city. Rocky contributed largely to the purchase of our first, and very old, car and I did a crash course in learning to drive and passing the test. I had, in fact, had a provisional licence for some time as friends and relatives nobly let me get experience in their cars. We had a friend who was an estate agent and our house was sold quite quickly. We bought a new one on the south side of a pleasant town in a former cherry orchard. The back garden contained one tree and next spring we vied with birds as to who got the most fruit.