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Some Memories of my School Days 1941 – 1951 |
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| .My days in the academic
world began in September of 1945 at the age of four. When along with
my mother, and a few of my friends and their parents, we were escorted
down Synwell Lane, as far as Potters Pond, where we turned right to
join the footpath that runs up to and through the churchyard of St
Mary the Virgin. From the churchyard footpath we crossed the road
to the primary school on Culverhay called ‘The Blue Coat School’. ‘The Blue Coat’ was a small school, by today’s standards. Consisting of only two large classrooms, about forty pupils, and a staff of three teachers. Miss Jobbins, was the headmistress. She was a tall slim woman, kindly, but with a definite air of authority about her. Her greying auburn hair was parted in the middle, platted and coiled to form two buns of hair, one over each ear. Another teacher was Miss Hardy, a small woman compared to the headmistress. Her short wavy black hair was in a style typical of the nineteen forties - a style she always kept. The third teacher whose name I think was Miss Bonnelle, was the largest of the three teachers. She more often than not wore a two piece suit and tied her ash blonde hair into a bun at the back of her head. All three of them were always kind to us children. I spent three happy years at the ‘Blue Coat’. Some friendships that were formed there still exist to this day. The first morning, of the start of our education, we were assembled in the larger of the two classrooms with our parents and introduced to the teachers. After the formal introductions we were told that our parents would be leaving us, and would return in the afternoon to take us home again. This statement shocked several of us. How would we cope without Mum? With the departure of our mothers and the feeling of total horror, several of us – including myself - started to cry unashamedly. These strange ladies, I don’t know them. Where is Mum? Why isn’t she here to look after me? The more I thought about it the more I wept. Soon the tears of fear subsided. With our tear sodden handkerchiefs stuffed untidily in our pockets we were introduced to the routine of the school day. There was lots to do and discover, we soon forgot about Mum. There were watercolour paints, paper and crayons of many colours, with which we could express ourselves as we wished. Soon there was a kaleidoscope of colour on numerous sheets of paper depicting our thoughts and fears. After lunch we returned to our painting and crayoning. The results of our artistic talents were pinned to the classroom walls, for parents to see and admire. Well into the afternoon we were suddenly shocked to look up and see our Mums waiting for us at the classroom door. Soon we had put away our paints, paper, crayon and water and were on the way home. Looking forward to the next exciting day. On warm summer days during term time we were sometimes taken by one of our teachers to a near by meadow for our afternoon lessons. This was usually in one of the many fields on either side of Adey’s Lane, a short distance from the school. Shaded from the searing heat of the sun, under a large oak tree, and with the wooded slopes of Coombe Hill as a back drop these were perfect settings for a summer’s day at school. In an adjacent field the cattle stood virtually motionless under the trees trying to avoid the direct heat of the afternoon sun – summers seemed longer and hotter back then. The stillness was only disturbed by the occasional swish of a cow’s tail that tried unsuccessfully to keep the swarms of unwelcome flies away. In another field we could see farm workers, busy with the haymaking, their skin, bronzed as a result of their exposure to the sun and other elements throughout the year, now glistened with perspiration. Even the gentle breeze felt warm as it gently caressed the exposed parts of our bodies, would have brought little if any relief for the farm workers. In spite of the chatter from our outdoor class and the energetic sounds from the farm workers, as they toiled in the sun, the place still had a serene sense of tranquillity about it. In those bygone days most, if not all, of the mowing was done by horse drawn machinery. I would sometimes sit on the bank, at the bottom of Synwell playing field, and watch Farmer Gaston’s worker ploughing the fields with a pair of majestic brown and white Shire horses. These large but elegant looking horses were always beautifully turned out with their leathers and highly polished brasses glinting in the early autumn sunshine. With heads bowed and muscles taut they strained as the plough sliced through the rich brown soil. Blackbirds and Seagulls shrieked and cawed above as they followed the activity on the ground. The turning of the hay to dry was also done by hand. Farm work at that time was far more labour intensified. During that time of year, in those very warm conditions, a shimmering heat haze hung over the valley surrounding Coombe Hill. Birds floated on the thermals of warm air that caressed the treetops that carpeted the hillsides, their song intermingled with the coo-ing of a wood pigeon and occasionally the distant call of a coal black crow. Butterflies and moths of varying sizes and colour flitted serenely among the multi-coloured wild flowers and lush vegetation that grew around the perimeter of the valley. If my memory serves me right the school was divided up into two classrooms, with a cloakroom situated on the left, just inside the main entrance. Here we were able to hang our hats and coats on rows of numbered pegs, our surname written on a coloured card placed in a small holder under each peg. The class rooms consisted of several rows of brown wooden desks, each mounted on a cast iron frame, each desk had a lid under which you could store your school materials – exercise books, pens, pencils, rulers, erasers etc, and anything else that you wanted to keep away from the teachers. On Friday afternoons there would be a desk inspection, to ensure that your desk was left tidy over the weekend. We also had to empty our inkwells, which were situated in the top right hand corner of the desk, emptying the ink into a large jug that was kept to side of the teachers desk. If you forgot, the following Monday morning you would find an inkwell full of solid ink. This meant that the inkwell would have to be replaced. As a consequence you would not be in your teachers good books. There were no Biros in those days. Our writing implements were somewhat primitive, they consisted of a wooden shaft with a metal attachment at one end in which a gold coloured nib was inserted. These primitive pens very often led to spoilt work, especially if you applied too much pressure to the nib while you were writing. This would more often than not, lead to a nasty black blob on the page of your exercise book, which invariably led to a reprimand from the teacher. The majority of us would stay for lunch at school. At lunch time we were assembled in the school yard, where we formed ourselves into columns of two and were then escorted by two teachers, one at the head of our column and the other keeping an eye on the rear. The canteen was situated at the back of the Methodist Church opposite the War Memorial and near to the Wotton factory of R A Lister & Co Ltd. Our route would take us along to the end of Culverhay, to the bottom of Old Town Road, where the buses put down and picked up passengers for Gloucester, Bristol and Stroud. We crossed the road at this point over to the Methodist Church, and then continued up the church garden path to our canteen. The central room of this building was set out with rows of trestle tables, with wooden forms along each side. Each table would seat six. The bare brick walls were painted a pale cream colour, with a broad border of dark green around the middle. The large sash type windows on all sides of the room were very draughty in the wintertime. I always looked forward to the lunches at the Blue Coat canteen. As one of the dinner ladies was my grandmother’s sister, so invariably I was offered second helpings - I had a healthy appetite even in those early days. To be continued ………………… |
