(I'm Never Going Back To) My Old School

I've been rummaging about in boxes full of old stuff in our loft, and I came across some notes that I made in the 1970's about my (boarding)schooldays. Here is an extract - there is plenty more of this kind of stuff - if viewers wish to read more, then please tell me, either by leaving a comment here or by e-mailing me. I have tried not to identify, by name, the particular school or any of the individuals referred to (I don't intend to hurt or offend anyone) but most people who know me will at least be able easily to identify the school, and certainly some viewers may recognise the attached photograph. This extract describes my first encounter with the school dining room on my arrival, as a wee lost boy, aged 11 and away from home for the first time, in 1966 The top table in the main part of the dining room was the teachers' table. Apart from getting better service and slightly better food the teachers (or at least the duty teacher) was responsible for saying grace and also controlled a bell which had the following significance: a) towards the end of the meal a single ring indicated that anyone who wished to leave the dining room was free to do so --prior to the bell you were not permitted to leave even if you'd long finished eating and wanted to leave; b) on the second ring of the bell not only were you free to leave but indeed it was now compulsory, whether or not you'd finished eating; and c) repeated ringing during the course of a meal required everyone present to be quiet in order that the teacher controlling the bell could make some announcement. I should say that the teachers were actually called "Masters" but I cannot bear to use that description and I will refer to them simply as teachers. At any event I arrived as part of squad 17 for my first meal. After grace had been said I sat down on the communal bench on my side of the table. Hammy, as chief, sat on a chair at one end of the table (as head of the table) while Fanny* sat on a chair at the end of the table nearest me. The rest of the squad, including me, were seated on wooden benches on either side of the table. The first thing I noticed was that someone had forgotten to properly set our table as not every place had a full set of crockery or cutlery. I was however relieved to note that my own place appeared to be properly set out. Within seconds I was disabused of that quaint notion when McG ( real name omitted to protect the guilty – Ed) simply lifted my knife and fork and placed them in front of himself. I immediately leant across and regained my property from him. He looked at me in genuine astonishment as though I had committed some ghastly faux pas. He patiently explained to me that he was "swindling" me. When it was obvious to him that I didn't have the faintest idea what he was talking about, he further explained that since he was in 2nd year, and therefore senior to me, he was entitled to take my crockery and cutlery and, if necessary, my food, in the event that he was lacking all or any of the above. While he was busy regaling me with this startling information, W (3rd year) was engaged in removing my erstwhile eating implements from McG’s place and relocating them in front of himself. How much further up the line that rare knife and fork went I do not know because my attention became focused on F exchanging his cup, which had a hole helpfully located on the bottom, for mine, which was apparently intact. To be honest, I cannot remember what was for tea that night but I do remember that I had to wait until someone else was finished eating before a knife and fork became available for me to eat my, by now cold and in any event totally insufficient, meal. Consider what a nightmare it is to wait for someone to finish eating, grab his cutlery, go away and wash it, only to be swindled again on your return to the table. When I did get back with the knife and fork another horror awaited. Before I get to that I should explain why it was necessary to have swindling in the first place. Quite simply there was not sufficient crockery or cutlery in the school to go round. There were 180 boys. There were 120 forks. This is a sort of variant on Mr. Micawber's famous dictum, viz: 180 boys, 180 forks, result - happiness; 180 boys, 120 forks, result - swindling and cold food. Apart from the general under-provision of all eating utensils, the cups proved a specialized problem area. There may well have appeared to the untrained eye to be 120 cups but in fact about half of these were cracked or holed in such a way as not to be fit for their principal purpose, ie drinking out of. Many an unwary new boy, rejoicing in actually having a cup, omitted to check whether said cup was equipped with a bottom. This defect was usually discovered on taking the first sip as the hot tea flooded out the hole in the cup where the bottom is conventionally situated. Some enterprising individuals overcame this technical flaw by lifting both cup and saucer together (if they had a saucer), the saucer effectively acting as a false bottom of the cup. I never fancied this method much as you only had to forget once that it wasn't a real cup to earn yourself third degree burns uncomfortably close to your private parts. In relation to cracked cups there was nothing much you could do, other than try to drink your tea faster than it seeped out the side of the cup. *all boys who were slightly effeminate (or ‘in touch with their feminine side’ as modern parlance would have it) were automatically called ‘Fanny’.