Recollections of an Old (but young at heart) Oswestrian, circa 1952 - EPISODE 45, GCE EXAMS, PRIZES, POKER & PROHIBITION

Almost twelve months have passed since COVID-19 turned up on our shores, throwing our lives into chaos, and the arrival of variants is set to complicate the situation still further.

It must be extremely frustrating for everyone involved in the education system, particularly for those pupils on the verge of taking their exams, and I am reminded of this stage of my life at Oswestry School as I prepared for an assault on the GCEs of the day. I admire the stoicism displayed by most of the students with whom I have come into contact and must say that the petty little gripes of my time pall into insignificance when compared with what the teenagers of today are facing on a daily basis.

Exam cancellations: "Has all my work gone down the drain?"

The most scary aspect of my A Levels was the prospect of my French oral exam which was a solitary affair held in the confines of the small library adjacent to the boot room, as depicted below, minus the celebratory quaffing of Tango pop from the House Cup.

Save the celebration for later!

On the morning of the exam I was as nervous as a kitten, but to my surprise, as I arrived in the library to face my examiner, who was born in Vienna, I could not help but notice that he seemed even more nervous than me and it immediately put me more at ease. In order to try and diffuse the tension in the air, as he seemed stuck for something to say, I remember saying to him that I had been on a recent school trip to Berchtesgaden, situated on the Austrian border, and would he like to begin by talking about that? At this his demeanour changed and, asserting his authority, he growled at me in a slight German accent, "Who is doing the questioning, me or you?"

Stalag Luft 111, scene of the real Great Escape (looking remarkably similar to the Prep Department!)

For a brief moment I was back in Stalag Luft 111 and, feeling suitably admonished, I crawled back into my shell as the ordeal began.

The dreaded French oral exam

I must have done alright as following a shaky start he gave me quite a good  mark and I went on to pass the written exams as well.

During the weeks leading up to our GCEs, particularly with regard to the more numerous O Levels, a great deal of swotting took place under blankets after lights out with the aid of torches. This was very much frowned on by Stoker Lewis and 'Mitch' Mitchell who confiscated torches en masse one night and we had to resort to night lights made out of candles.

Last minute revision (unassisted by the alcohol bought earlier in the day [cough])

M R Mitchell on a school trip to Merano in 1958
(Bernard [right], Richard Jeremy [centre])

In the above extract from my diary I recall late night swotting being disturbed by 'Mitch' toing and froing through the Junior dorm after lights out on his return from The Welsh Harp pub. Earlier that day I had been to see 'Fatty' Felton at his request; as the Headmaster's deputy he was very concerned about the amount of damage being inflicted on school property and he asked if I could be of any help in trying to stop it. We had a very candid chat about the Old Man during which I told him, as if he didn't already know, that feelings in the school were running very high and I was not too sure I could stop it. I said I would do my best.

Most of the exams took place in the Memorial Hall, and as we gathered outside in small clusters waiting for the doors to be opened everyone was aware of the importance of the next few hours. Once inside and settled in our seats, minds began racing ahead. How many questions will I be able to answer? Will I finish in time? I had already been warned by J F Tilley that TIME in my history exams would be as much a problem for me as the questions, and as it turned out he was correct; my verbosity proved to be part of my undoing and as time was fast running out I ended up just scribbling down what I considered to be salient points in the answer to the last question. It was the first time I had ever failed any exam, including the eight or nine O Levels I had taken two years earlier and it would, sadly, not be the last. I really enjoyed geography and I was gutted not to receive a pass in what was probably my favourite subject. 

My parents were certainly even more disappointed than I was with my results, but, to their credit, there were no recriminations, and apart from gently suggesting retakes that was the end of it. It would no doubt have been the sensible thing to do, but my heart was not in it and I just wanted to get on with my life. 

Far less importantly, and certainly of little use on my CV, is the fact that I was more successful in the prize winning department! If there had been prizes for prize winning I would be smiling now as I managed to come away from school with a collection of eight books - one for each year at Oswestry.

My last prize: Over to Me by Jim Laker

My favourite prize was a book penned by Jim Laker who is probably the most famous spin bowler ever to play for England; taking nineteen out of twenty wickets against Australia in the Summer of 1956 it is still a record and I doubt if it will ever be broken. I was staying with Jack 'Grevo' Greves at the time during our school holidays and we were enthralled as history unfolded before our eyes.

Jim Laker in action

As you can imagine, there was a ban on gambling and the consumption of alcohol on school property, but in my last year a few of us were part of a card school using the Tuck Shop as a private den thinking it safe from prying eyes. Unfortunately for us somebody with a grudge gave the game away and we were caught red-handed by Mr Frankland playing Pontoon with Tuck Shop money. No wonder the Tuck Shop never seemed to make much profit! The sight of several Double Diamond (a very appropriate drink for a poker school) beer bottles on the table sent the 'Moth' into a frenzy and he threatened serious consequences.

A Double Diamond works wonders!

Perhaps because we were nearing the end of the summer term, or possibly because the event was overshadowed by more serious matters, we will never know why no further action was taken, but talk of expulsions was in the air again for several days.

Some of us were already on thin ice having been discovered consorting with local girls, so this latest episode made us very nervous for days as we awaited an uncertain outcome. 

Keeping a low profile was now essential as the last thing I needed was a black mark leading up to my final departure from Oswestry School which had been my Alma Mater for the previous eight years. 

Nevertheless, as the end of term approached and time at school was drawing nigh for some of us, we still managed a beer or two away from prying eyes and marked the end of a chapter in our lives with celebratory drinks in the library.

Celebrating the imminent end of one chapter alongside the year's trophies