Chapter 10
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Chapter 11
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"I dropped!"

CHAPTER 11, page 4

With several others whose names sadly have gone in the mists of time, ? Chollerton? with his entertaining but, for me in exams, sadly forgettable History, and ? Davis?, who, despite his undoubted talent and ability was unable to instil more than a transient understanding of Maths.

I might one day have been truly able to share the Morning Assembly deep murmurs from the balcony, but I disliked Latin intensely as presented by ‘Basher’ Blake. I feel sure I could have done quite well with the language – except for Basher. He had been jolted out of a contented retirement as his contribution to the War Effort. But having made the sacrifice, seemed to resent it and was determined to make someone pay for it. We were the nearest!

It seemed by nature he was a bully – intimidation rather than encouragement seemed to bring him much personal satisfaction. A distracted gaze out of the window at greener pastures, a whispered comment, a despairingly wrong answer – all brought at least a superbly guided missile of chalk born of years of experience. In dire moments, the board rubber, flying unerringly through the air to achieve a direct hit on the person, though always accurate enough to miss the head, of the unfortunate culprit – “you will pay attention when I am teaching, boy!”

Any further minor misdemeanour resulted, in front of the sympathetic class, in his demand of static outstretched knuckles of the offender’s ‘non-writing’ hand to await painful collision with a rapidly descending whippy little cane previously concealed about his person. Despite strenuous effort, I was not excluded from his malevolence. It hurt! I became increasingly eloquent in my plea to Mum and Dad to be excused Latin.

‘Water weareth away the stone’. If only for deliverance from what became a daily entreaty, Mum eventually succumbed and accompanied me to beard the fearsome MacFarlane in his den. He tried eloquently to encourage me to persist, expounding his opinion of the value of Latin in so many fields of learning. I gathered later I broke his resolve when I ventured I thought Latin was a Dead Language. Though undoubtedly Newcastle’s Mr Cook would have agreed, our respected Head surely had visions of the return of a Goth or a Vandal. Such a Philistine in his presence was beyond decency and he terminated the interview forthwith acceding to my regrettable request. Whatever I later achieved at Bemrose I suspect passed him by. But sadly, I must admit he was right. A better knowledge of Latin would have eased my subsequent comprehension of Agricultural Science where so many names and terms have Latin as their root.

So thankfully without Latin, in 1942 I progressed to T(ransitus).16 – Exam Year. Not yet 15, but confidently having maintained my place in the ‘Express’ form, I sat for School Certificate in June 1943. Just six weeks later, my expectations were shattered. For the first time in my life, I’d failed to pass an exam! It was an unaccustomed and embarrassing situation. I was appalled to find from my eight subjects, just two credits and two passes were the sum total of four years work! I’d needed a minimum of five Credits or six Passes (or any combination) to pass. Abject failure! In those days, exams were ‘one-off’. ‘All or nothing’. The only option to achieve School Certificate was to resit the whole exam – accumulation of subjects one at a time wasn’t an option.

I’d obviously failed to maintain my early promise! It was some comfort that I wasn’t alone. Indeed, Bemrose was obviously used to it, as T(ransitus).20 catered for those unfortunates who wished to have a second try! The public ignominy of the’ re-sit’ form!

After another year of now-focussed study, this time having ‘dropped’ less-than-comprehensible ‘Extra Physics’, I sat for seven subjects. With considerable relief, I achieved a London University School Certificate with Matriculation Exemption with Credits in English Language, English Literature, General Science, Geography and French, a Pass in General Mathematics – but a Fail in History. I sat no more exams at that level.

I spent just one Term in the Sixth Form, mostly in the Library and solely because legally I wasn’t allowed to leave school till I was 16.

In December 1944, I bade farewell to my Alma Mater with a commendation to any future employer provided by ‘ the boss’. 

Hey! How good can you get! No mention of opt out of Latin! Well.... I suppose a very modest achievement for eleven years of the nation’s best education! Mind, there had been a War on! And at least it would prove enough to give me a sound base to start a rewarding career.

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