Gordon Griffin Davis lives in Australia, he went to KEFW between 1939 and 1946 and these memories of Monmouth were published in the FWOE Association Newsletter No.58, December 2004:
' In recently describing my life to a group I now belong to, I remarked on a number of idyllic periods and the 1939-44 slice in Monmouth was pretty prominent. In 1939 I joined the school in form 1A on September 1st, to march down Broad Street with my gas mask and "iron rations" to the train trip among total strangers ending in Monmouth. I was allocated a billet with the Lawis's in Glendower Street; a wonderful family in a great house (and garden backing on to the Chippenham). My new proxy father was Charlie Lewis, one of Monmouth's best-known butchers ("Go to L&C Lewis") who made controller of the slaughterhouse at the outbreak of war. On September 2nd, I had my 12th birthday and of course on the 3rd, we were at war. Mts. Lewis was a wonderful woman who coped with homesickness and tears, and I settled down with her children, John and Barbara, and got to know my fellow pupils. We used a variety of church halls as classrooms, also the famous room behind the 'Geoffrey of Monmouth' window in the old school above the slaughterhouses. I was soon initiated into the process of sticking a pig and bleeding a cow in those subterranean arches alongside the river Monnow. That river had very good eels feeding on the butchered debris.
We learned to swim in the Monmouth School pool. ELO turned up and got us all diving and being athletic. We messed about in the Wye and Monnow, climbed the Kymin and behaved abominably to the poor refugee teachers who joined us from Europe. Mike Forman, John Davies and the Cummings twins, who were at your reunion will recall what I am telling.
As the war progressed, we followed the battles in North Africa on wall maps, putting in little pins. We got used to the sight of British, Indian and finally American troops marching about and joining us on church parades. Cycling around the back roads we would find American ration packs tossed behind the hedgerows, still rich in chewing gum and cigarettes.
And of course there were the girls of the High School, the cinema and that upstairs cafe in Church Street where we chatted them up and spent hours on the crossroads. At some stage, probably 1942, I was hauled up before a "Prefects Court" accused of, I quote, "Walking along the railway with girls". I pleaded ignorance and think I got three whacks. We were well taught by the old hands; Joe Fulford, Tom Bailey, Strago Greaves and a range of new guns like ELO, the blonde who taught us French (?) and a number of other young ones we could relate to. Dobinson was a great leader and led one of the few really successful evacuations. I still recall gargling all the way down the corridor whenever I smell Dettol; it was a prophyylactic against colds and sore throats - no wonder I ended up doing research in Microbiology!! '
Friday, 28 March 2008
Wednesday, 26 March 2008
Gaudeamus igitur
Whilst every evacuee will no doubt, as shall be seen through this website, have their own unique memories of a sojourn which for some lasted for four whole years of their formative youth, there are a number of key memories which seem to belong to the collective consciousness.
Dobinson in his plus-four country suit, rucksack and megaphone; the serried ranks of boys, masters, wives and the delightfully sounding 'lady helpers' gathered behind the school buidlings prior to departure. The girl guides at Monmouth and assorted locals eagerly awaiting the arrival of a girls school. Did the script writers of Dad's Army never hear this tale ...Mainwaring was bound to have blamed that particular mix-up on the long-suffering Wilson. The apprehensive gathering at the Rolls Hall, waiting to be allocated a half-decent billet, a vaguely prepared foster parent, a piece of furniture resembling a bed and preferably all three. One almost expects to learn it was at this point that Professor McGonnagal appeared from behind a curtain carrying the Sorting Hat!
Above all though, an abiding collective memory is the singing of the anthemesque Gaudeamus by the 350 plus Birmingham boys as they marched down Broad Street just two days before the start of World War 2. Having marched down Broad Street from Five Ways to Centenary Square myself little more than 12 months ago, alongside a couple of thousand boy scouts celebrating their Centenary and St George's Day, I think I can relate to the sense of excitement which, with more than a little similarity to the scouts of 2007, would have been best expressed through the joyous outburst of hearty, youthful voices.
But for those of us brought up on the anthems of Alice Cooper, Johnny Rotten and Oasis, what in heaven's name was Gaudeamus?
Gaudeamus igitur is actually not the name of the song but the opening line by which it is commonly known. The song's title is De Brevitate Vitae, Latin for "on the shortness of life" and Gaudeamus igitur is translated as "Therefore let us rejoice". The song is a popular academic anthem sung at University graduations throughout Europe. The melody comes from a medieval hymn by Strada (1267) but in spite of these dignified origins the song has been altered and adapted down the ages by generations of student and school boy pranksters to the point that in many countries it became a popular beer-drinking song, sung in celebration of the bacchanalian mayhem of student social life.
But in the context of the high-spirited KEFW pupils leaving behind their families and homes, marching off into the unknown under the growing shadow of what would be the most awesome and destructive war of the 20th century, the words of Gaudeamus seem extremely fitting and it is therefore little wonder that the sense of occasion inspired by it's singing has left such a profound memory for so many. Apart from there being a few lines in the song that Chairman Mao might have been proud to have penned, the overall affect is powerful enough to make my own generation's celebrity army of anthem writers bow their heads in humility. Here is the English translation - I have yet to learn which version(s) were sung by our serried ranks, I will be surprised if there wasn't a risque though creative alternative for verse five:
On the shortness of life
Let us rejoice therefore
While we are young.
After a pleasant youth
After the troubles of old age
The earth will have us.
Where are they
Who were in the world before us?
Go up to heaven
Or cross over into hell
If you wish to see them.
Our life is brief
It will be finished all too soon.
Death comes quickly
We are cruelly snatched away.
No one is spared.
Long live the academy!
Long live the teachers!
Long live each student!
Long live all the students!
May they always flourish!
Long live the virgins
Easy and beautiful!
Long live mature women also,
Tender and lovable
And full of good labor.
Long live the state as well
And he who rules it!
Long live our city
[And] the charity of benefactors
Which protects us here!
Let sadness perish!
Let haters perish!
Let the devil perish!
Let whoever is anti-student
Who laughs at us, perish!
Dobinson in his plus-four country suit, rucksack and megaphone; the serried ranks of boys, masters, wives and the delightfully sounding 'lady helpers' gathered behind the school buidlings prior to departure. The girl guides at Monmouth and assorted locals eagerly awaiting the arrival of a girls school. Did the script writers of Dad's Army never hear this tale ...Mainwaring was bound to have blamed that particular mix-up on the long-suffering Wilson. The apprehensive gathering at the Rolls Hall, waiting to be allocated a half-decent billet, a vaguely prepared foster parent, a piece of furniture resembling a bed and preferably all three. One almost expects to learn it was at this point that Professor McGonnagal appeared from behind a curtain carrying the Sorting Hat!
Above all though, an abiding collective memory is the singing of the anthemesque Gaudeamus by the 350 plus Birmingham boys as they marched down Broad Street just two days before the start of World War 2. Having marched down Broad Street from Five Ways to Centenary Square myself little more than 12 months ago, alongside a couple of thousand boy scouts celebrating their Centenary and St George's Day, I think I can relate to the sense of excitement which, with more than a little similarity to the scouts of 2007, would have been best expressed through the joyous outburst of hearty, youthful voices.
But for those of us brought up on the anthems of Alice Cooper, Johnny Rotten and Oasis, what in heaven's name was Gaudeamus?
Gaudeamus igitur is actually not the name of the song but the opening line by which it is commonly known. The song's title is De Brevitate Vitae, Latin for "on the shortness of life" and Gaudeamus igitur is translated as "Therefore let us rejoice". The song is a popular academic anthem sung at University graduations throughout Europe. The melody comes from a medieval hymn by Strada (1267) but in spite of these dignified origins the song has been altered and adapted down the ages by generations of student and school boy pranksters to the point that in many countries it became a popular beer-drinking song, sung in celebration of the bacchanalian mayhem of student social life.
But in the context of the high-spirited KEFW pupils leaving behind their families and homes, marching off into the unknown under the growing shadow of what would be the most awesome and destructive war of the 20th century, the words of Gaudeamus seem extremely fitting and it is therefore little wonder that the sense of occasion inspired by it's singing has left such a profound memory for so many. Apart from there being a few lines in the song that Chairman Mao might have been proud to have penned, the overall affect is powerful enough to make my own generation's celebrity army of anthem writers bow their heads in humility. Here is the English translation - I have yet to learn which version(s) were sung by our serried ranks, I will be surprised if there wasn't a risque though creative alternative for verse five:
On the shortness of life
Let us rejoice therefore
While we are young.
After a pleasant youth
After the troubles of old age
The earth will have us.
Where are they
Who were in the world before us?
Go up to heaven
Or cross over into hell
If you wish to see them.
Our life is brief
It will be finished all too soon.
Death comes quickly
We are cruelly snatched away.
No one is spared.
Long live the academy!
Long live the teachers!
Long live each student!
Long live all the students!
May they always flourish!
Long live the virgins
Easy and beautiful!
Long live mature women also,
Tender and lovable
And full of good labor.
Long live the state as well
And he who rules it!
Long live our city
[And] the charity of benefactors
Which protects us here!
Let sadness perish!
Let haters perish!
Let the devil perish!
Let whoever is anti-student
Who laughs at us, perish!
A.A. (Tony) Barter - Mayor of Monmouth!
It is noted in a recent newsletter of the FWOE Association (No.58, September 2004) that one former Five Ways evacuee settled so well into Monmouth life that the locals eventually made him their Mayor. Association secretary Colin Spencer explained how Tony Barter (school years 1938-45) had played a supportive role in the 65th Anniversary Reunion:
' It was thanks to Tony (ex-mayor of Monmouth) that we had publicity about the September reunion in both the local paper and the museum and an eventual write-up in the Monmouth News. Tony and his wife were deighted to see so many old friends turn up. "We did enjoy the tour of Monmouth School and, of course, the tea party afterwards in the Headmaster's garden. How amazing that such a lot of old chums and wives were able to come to Monmouth. If I close my eyes, I can picture everyone, masters and wives, lady helpers, auxilliary staff and boys assembled in "serried ranks" at the rear of the school buildings in Ladywood Road. CHD clad in a heather mixture plus-four country suit with rucksack and old fashioned megaphone giving the order to move off, youngest boys leading, down Broad Street to Snow Hill Station. A fitting prelude to an exciting day."
Tony was also pleased when I sent him photocopies of the missing pages to his Gaudeamus as well as the words of the Founder's Prayer. "I am happy to have all the words to "October" and "Heroes" - both songs only partially in my memory". I think we may well be using you again as our Monmouth agent in 2009. There are quite a number who like the idea of a 70th reunion! '
Colin Spencer
' It was thanks to Tony (ex-mayor of Monmouth) that we had publicity about the September reunion in both the local paper and the museum and an eventual write-up in the Monmouth News. Tony and his wife were deighted to see so many old friends turn up. "We did enjoy the tour of Monmouth School and, of course, the tea party afterwards in the Headmaster's garden. How amazing that such a lot of old chums and wives were able to come to Monmouth. If I close my eyes, I can picture everyone, masters and wives, lady helpers, auxilliary staff and boys assembled in "serried ranks" at the rear of the school buildings in Ladywood Road. CHD clad in a heather mixture plus-four country suit with rucksack and old fashioned megaphone giving the order to move off, youngest boys leading, down Broad Street to Snow Hill Station. A fitting prelude to an exciting day."
Tony was also pleased when I sent him photocopies of the missing pages to his Gaudeamus as well as the words of the Founder's Prayer. "I am happy to have all the words to "October" and "Heroes" - both songs only partially in my memory". I think we may well be using you again as our Monmouth agent in 2009. There are quite a number who like the idea of a 70th reunion! '
Colin Spencer
Tuesday, 25 March 2008
Five Ways Evacuation to Monmouth by P.R.Watkins
Part TwoThroughout the five years the pattern of life remained similar. Schoolwork took place cheifly in the afternoons when the facilities of Monmouth School were placed at our disposal. School began at 2 p.m. with roll call and assembly attended by boys, masters and lady helpers and ended between 5 p.m. and 6 p.m. depending on the season and a boy's age. Physical Education, football, art, scouts, music, farm work, cadets, the Air Training Corps, Police Cadets and homework filled the mornings. Premises all over Monmouth were used, the Halls of St Mary's Parish Church, the Methodist, Congregational and Baptist Chapels, the Church of England boy's school in Priory Street as well as private houses. For a time the Congregational pews served a sdesks while boys knelt to work and the basement vestry of the Baptist chapel provided equally uncomfortable conditions. The school library was accomodated first in a cupboard in Monmouth Big School and only in 1942 moved to No. 9 Glendower Street which the school rented and where further classrooms were equipped. A Biology laboratory was improvised first in a greenhouse at Leasbrook and later in a stable on the corner of Dixton Road and Monk Street. Practical work however involved catching your own specimens whether they were flies, butterflies and frog-spawn or plants, leaves and flowers. A lasting memory for many was the Headmaster's lessons on astronomy:
"The clean country air around a relatively small country town during the time of complete blackout gave us a wonderful opportunity to study the constellations and their consituent stars. On a clear winter evening the stars not only of our galaxy, but the Milky Way could be seen in numbers which defied any count" (1)
On Sundays the School attended chapel at 10 a.m. in the Congregational church where a Chapel Committee of senior boys planned the services, Prefects read the lessons and visiting precahers addressed the school. The most memorable of these was aman who subsequently joined the staff and preached regularly, the Rev. W.T. Joseph. Shortly before the war he had left St Margaret's, Ladywood, to become Vicar of Rockfield, a tiny parish outside Monmouth towards Newport. "The Rev. Jo" as he was called by all, became one of the most familiar figures around the school: he took over much of the Divinity teaching and preached once a month "sermons which were adapted to the needs of boys and made Chrsitian faith and life relevant, challenging and inspiring". In addition he was splendid support to all, not least the ladies running the hostels, by his unfailing good cheer and ability to call forth the best in everyone. Some boys would attend other churches: the tiny Dixton church by the River Wye near Inglewood was one, whilst another boy recalls that "there were two of us who regularly cycled out to Rockfield each Sunday to ring a peal on the two bells and pump the organ during the service" (2)
At the beginning most boys, masters and lady helpers were all accomodated in billets: in substantial houses, humble cottages and isolated farms in Monmouth and the surrounding hamlets, sometimes signly but often in groups of 2, 4, or even 8. Foster parents were paid 8/6 per week for each boy by the government as a billeting allowance, a figure which even in those days can scarcely have been adequate to feed a growing boy, let alone entertain his parents on their Sunday visits as some evidently expected. There was one young boy who announced on arrival that he could only sleep at night if he had a bottle of Guinness' Stout, when he went to bed. It is not recorded whether he spent a sleepless evacuation. Despite instructions to the contrary there were some well-off parents who contributed a further £1 on their visits and occasioned thereby some degree of acrimony between foster-parents. Many billets were strikingly successful and many Old Boys still keep in touch with the foster-parents of the war years. Others were less so and one old boy is prepared to admit to having eleven billets in three months.
(1) D.E. Davies
(2) M.J.Plenderleith
Sunday, 23 March 2008
Memories - Lawrence Wardle
(L-R): Lawrence, John & Myvanwy, Peter and Roland This is the first part of a group interview carried out in 2007 with Lawrence Wardle, Peter Hoff, John and Myvanwy Morgan and Roland Wardle. In this first part of the interview, Lawrence introduces his initial experience of the evacuation. My special thanks to the interviewees and also to Sue Smith, a blind person from Sheldon, who has trancsribed the audio tape to text:
“My name is Lawrence Wardle, otherwise known as Wag. My parents lived in Ladywood, Friston Street. My mother went back to Leeds, her home town so I could be born there and be qualified to play cricket for Yorkshire. When my time came, they already had one Wardle, so they didn’t want me, but that’s all by the way.
We moved from Friston Street to Harborne, West Boulevard in 1930 and in 1936, I think it was we moved to Wolverhampton Road South and I lived there for the next few years until the war, when I was evacuated in 1939 and was at school in Monmouth until 1942, after which, I went to Birmingham University. I qualified as a dentist and moved away from Birmingham eventually, but going back to the evacuation, which is what it’s all about, this had a tremendous effect on my life.
I think, to understand the business of evacuation, you’ve got to understand how different things were then. There weren’t the fears I think for young children. We had much more freedom, where our parents didn’t want to know where we were all the time and we wandered off. I was a keen scout and spent a lot of time away from home with that, so when the actual evacuation came and I had to leave home, it didn’t bother me in the slightest. I didn’t know if it was for the rest of my life, or just for a short time.
Going back to the evacuation then, I think we had a preparation for it the year before when leading up to the Munich problem, settled by Neville Chamberlain going to see Hitler, there had been a trial run and I think the idea then was that we would go to the school farm which was at Evenlode in the Cotswolds. When it came to it, presumably they had asked the permission of our parents to take us away from them when war came, I don’t know, but anyway, I think it was a Friday, the 31st of August, we were called to school and we turned up with our gas masks, which we had been provided with. With a change of clothing, I suppose a few pence in pocket money, I don’t know and there we were, divided into teams of sixes in the playground and all the senior boys took charge of a team of six, eventually they were made sub prefects. I don’t know if they have sub prefects at school now and we had to control our six members.
We then eventually set off marching down Broad Street towards Snow Hill station singing songs from Gaudeamus, or our version of the songs and at Snow Hill station, which was crowded with soldiers and all sorts, we were put on a train and off we went with lots of stops and starts. We had no idea where we were going. All the station names had been blocked out so we didn’t know where we were, but eventually, we finished up at, I think we went to Ross first and then changed from the main steam train on to a little push-pull train that took us to this place that turned out to be Monmouth.
There on the platform were a lot of trestle tables with orange squash and things and buns. We just embarked and helped ourselves from the table. Then lots of lady helpers who were hanging around helped us and the girl guides took us one by one to billets where we were going to live for the next few years. Most of the school had gone and there were about ten of us left and all the ladies were looking a bit desperate, but anyway, they eventually took two of us, Dennis and I and we went to a house in Prior Street opposite the post office in Monmouth.
A little lady came to the door and the lady said "I've brought your evacuees".
She was a bit non-plus and said "I only said I’d take them in an emergency".
They said, "but this is an emergency".
"But I haven’t got a bed for them".
"Oh never mind, we’ll fix that".
So the lady helping, one of the girl guides, took the two of us around to the, was it the Shire Hall or Rolls Hall? There they had a whole stack of furniture and we carried an iron bedstead back and eventually we went back and got a mattress. We went up four flights of stairs to a room at the top that hadn’t been used. There wasn’t any electricity, no water, never mind, we put up the bed and that’s where I slept for the next three years. The lady, Mrs Beal, I was in contact with me until she died a few years ago in her nineties. A lovely lady and I can almost say, it was probably the best years of my life. It certainly formed me in the way I went."
Memories - S.Arnold Ward
Austrian master Mr Kohn - taught economicsand popular cigarette brands
The following excerpt is from a letter from former pupil S.Arnold Ward (school years beginning 1937-43), which was published in the FWOE Association Newsletter No.58, December 2004:
' I was a pupil at Five Ways from 1937 to 1944 whenI left school at Monmouth to enter the RAF. My first two years were spent at Five Ways until that day when we were all shepherded onto the train bound for Monmouth.
My four years at Monmouth bring back mixed feelings as I experienced both good and bad billets. It musy have been difficult for some of the host families to adapt to having children again, or integrating them with their own. The better times are recalled as at the Hardings in Rockfield with Lloyd Arnold and, I believe, the Jenkins brothers (or were they with me at the farm up the Hereford Road, and at Inglewood?) It was there that I won a prize for the garden that I made in the rear of the property.
I joined the Army Cadets and well remember my first parade when I was chided for not having cleaned my buttons and badges. Obviously not a natural soldier or did someone forget to tell me they had to shine brightly? Leading out of that were the shifts standing on the bridge over the river, guarding it with a rifle in hand. Another uniform was that of the PAMS (Police Auxilliary Messenger Service). The intention of that unit was to carry massages by motorcycle in the event of an invasion. We were taught to ride the bikes in a field by a police sergeant and then we got sent off on practice rides. It didn't last long and I can't recall whether I just dropped out or it fell apart.
Anyone who was in the Commercial Sixth will likely remember Mr.Kohn who was an Austrian refugee and taught Economics. He also taught us the different brands of cigarettes that were good to smoke, the room full of smoke as we weighed up the merits of different brands. I was in the Upper Sixth Commerce when I took the Higher Certificate exams.
School finished officially for me in the summer of 1943. Those of us who were leaving were encouraged by Charles Henry Dobinson to volunteer for the armed forces and I decided on the Royal Air Force. I was accepted and was offered a six-month short course at Oxford University as part of my training as a potential officer/navigator. '
Charles Henry Dobinson
C.H.Dobinson M.A. Bsc. 1933-1945 The Headmaster of the school during it's evacuation to Monmouth was Charles Henry Dobinson. In every interview or article appertaining to the evacuation, whether the writer or interviewee be master or pupil, Dobinson's name comes up time and again. His character and influence seems fundamental not just to the story of the evacuation, but to the school's development in the preceding six years from his arrival at KEFW in 1933.
In his book King Edward VI Five Ways School 1883 - 1983, the school's current Headmaster David Wheeldon provides a fascinating and in-depth profile of this greatly respected educational thinker whose 'powerful philiosophy of education was moulded in a love of the countryside':
' Jubilee year was also to see the third Headmaster appointed: Charles Henry Dobinson came to Five Ways from Mill Hill School where had had been a member of the Science staff. A young Oxonian with a clearly thought-out educational philosophy, he seemed a marked contrast to Barker, the self-made man. Their similarities, however, belie their obvious background differences. Both were scientists whose interest spread far beyond their own subject, both loved outdoor life, both were tough disciplinarians whom staff and boys alike found remote and awesome. Like his predecessor, Dobinson was not notable for his sense of humour but both were totally dedicated to the school they served.
At 29, he was one of the youngest Heads to be appointed by the Foundation. Born in 1903 and brought up in London and Kent he went to Wadham College, Oxford to read Mathematics. He was intent on teaching from the start and became fascinated by Science (Geology, Astronomy and Zoology). These Science subjects became the key to his beliefs about education clearly linking past, present and future. He took a second in Mathematics moderations, a first in the Geology section of the Honours School of Natural Science and a London BSc. From Mill Hill, Five Ways was his first application for a Headmastership.
He brought to the office a powerful philosophy of education moulded in a love of the countryside' a belief in the innate goodness of the child which needed to be stimulated and unrtured by the School; a conviction, in common with others who had been brought up during the First World War, of the futility of war and the iniquity of the peace settlement of 1919. Polticially he was left wing from an observation of the blatant inequailities of the social system of the day, and the miseries of unemployment. A keen believer in the League of Nations and appeasement, he believed right up to March 1939 that Germany's aspirations were reasonable.
He preferred to think of a school as a community rather than as an institution. He believed that the life of a school formed the boy, and he never judged his results simply by academic success. In all his work he aimed at producing men who could weight evidence and think for themselves; He tried to free their minds from propaganda and involve them in the community.
His philosophy dominated the School in the pre-war years, especially, but also during the difficult years of evacuation during the Second World War. His dynamism inspired both masters and boys and was translated into an educational programme inside and outside of the classroom which made Five Ways a school well ahead of its time. The older staff felt that he was perhaps idealistic. To men down to earth and a little over-addicted to games, his theories appeared high flown and impracticable. His intense and earnest approach perhaps put a gulf between himself and some of the staff, but the boys were willing to follow his lead and gradually staff were won over. '
Wheeldon, David John / King Edward VI Five Ways School 1883-1983 / The Tudor Press (Redditch) Ltd / pages 55 - 56
Saturday, 22 March 2008
Prelude to War - the 1930s
' During 1933 much of the world was preoccupied with the consolidation of Nazi rule in Germany. There was intense curiosity, and even anxiety, about what the new German government really intended. The imposition of domestic tyranny went hand in hand with Germany's repeated public protestations of international peaceful intentions. Yet even as the tyranny within Germany was being directed at those who were considered enemies of the regime, a wave of skilfully organized enthusiasm led to widely reported demand for the carrying out of Nazi ideals. During the first days of May, Nazi students demonstrated against what they called 'non-German culture', demanding an end to what they characterized as alien, and especially socialist and Jewish, influences. Those influences had hitherto been an integral part of German life and culture. On 1 May 1933, the traditional May Day of the working classes, the National Socialist Workers Unions organized a Day of National Work, complete with demonstrations and banners, reminiscent of the great working-class spectacles of earlier years, but with a total hostility to the socialist work ethic and aspirations of the past. The traditional theme of international solidarity was replaced by the call for national renewal. In proclaiming a 'holy day of national labour', Hitler's Minister of Propaganda, Dr Josef Goebels - the leading propagandist of Nazism - declared: 'Germans of all estates, lineages, and professions, join hands! In serried ranks we march into the new age.' '
Martin Gilbert / A History of the Twentieth Century Volume Two: 1933-1951 - page 3 / HarperCollins 1998
Friday, 21 March 2008
65th Anniversary Monmouth Reunion
The following article, written by the secretary of the FWOE Association, Colin Spencer, is from the FWOEA Newsletter (No.58), December 2004:
There had been a lot of early preparation regarding this event. Peter Hoff, who had been instumental in helping organise the last one in 1999, had said to me afterwards that we had better have one in five years time as he thought there may not be many able to make the 70yh in 2009! I sent off circulars to all members whose dates had coincided with the evacuation. The response was tremendous and, on the appointed Sunday, over 50 former evacuess, together with wives, met at 12 noon on the slope of the boathouse at Monmouth. The weather was perfect - in fact it was too hot and many tried to get in the shade as soon as the press photographs had been taken.
We were honoured to have the present Headmaster and his wife, David and Janet Wheeldon (complete with ice-creams!) who were with us for the rest of the day. I was also delighted to see Gill Leake and her husband there too. Gill, the daughter of C.H. Dobinson, Headmaster during the evacuation, met up with many faces from the past. It was great to see ELO there too and I was pleased that I had arranged transport to Monmouth and back to Barnstable and to have a wheelchair available for him for the whole of the day. Ossie had been appointed by Dobinson in 1940.
Former Five Ways boys had travelled many miles to be there for the day. Some had made a weekend of it, others had travelled by coach from Birmingham for the day. Roger De Gobeo had surprised everyone, including me, by coming all the way from Manitoba, Canada. There was also a lady who had worked as a nurse in the local hospital during the war who was trying to locate a Five Ways boy who had been admitted for an operation but I don't think she managed to find him after all these years.
Most of those attending managed to visit the local museum where a small display had been set up especially for the event. I have left all the comments from those who wrote to me afterwards, to individual names until later in this newsletter. This is one of the reasons that we have such a bumper issue this time.
I had arranged with the present Head of Monmouth School, Mr Tim Haynes, that he would open up part of the school to allow those present to look around their old haunts as well as newer additions. He was very proud to show us the theatre which had been recently built and was being used by the residents of Monmouth as well as the school. Afterwards we were all royally entertained to afternoon tea by the Headmaster and his wife in the back garden of their house. A large number then went on to Leasbrook to relive memories of the past. The present owners were given a school shield with a brass plate suitably engraved by Paul Ennis. This was presented by Gill Leake. More food and drink was consumed here, photographs taken and many former residents were allowed to roam around the grounds.
All in all, it was a memorable day. I think, from the reaction of many who came - and some who were unable to do so - that we may well have a further reunion in September 2009.
There had been a lot of early preparation regarding this event. Peter Hoff, who had been instumental in helping organise the last one in 1999, had said to me afterwards that we had better have one in five years time as he thought there may not be many able to make the 70yh in 2009! I sent off circulars to all members whose dates had coincided with the evacuation. The response was tremendous and, on the appointed Sunday, over 50 former evacuess, together with wives, met at 12 noon on the slope of the boathouse at Monmouth. The weather was perfect - in fact it was too hot and many tried to get in the shade as soon as the press photographs had been taken.
We were honoured to have the present Headmaster and his wife, David and Janet Wheeldon (complete with ice-creams!) who were with us for the rest of the day. I was also delighted to see Gill Leake and her husband there too. Gill, the daughter of C.H. Dobinson, Headmaster during the evacuation, met up with many faces from the past. It was great to see ELO there too and I was pleased that I had arranged transport to Monmouth and back to Barnstable and to have a wheelchair available for him for the whole of the day. Ossie had been appointed by Dobinson in 1940.
Former Five Ways boys had travelled many miles to be there for the day. Some had made a weekend of it, others had travelled by coach from Birmingham for the day. Roger De Gobeo had surprised everyone, including me, by coming all the way from Manitoba, Canada. There was also a lady who had worked as a nurse in the local hospital during the war who was trying to locate a Five Ways boy who had been admitted for an operation but I don't think she managed to find him after all these years.
Most of those attending managed to visit the local museum where a small display had been set up especially for the event. I have left all the comments from those who wrote to me afterwards, to individual names until later in this newsletter. This is one of the reasons that we have such a bumper issue this time.
I had arranged with the present Head of Monmouth School, Mr Tim Haynes, that he would open up part of the school to allow those present to look around their old haunts as well as newer additions. He was very proud to show us the theatre which had been recently built and was being used by the residents of Monmouth as well as the school. Afterwards we were all royally entertained to afternoon tea by the Headmaster and his wife in the back garden of their house. A large number then went on to Leasbrook to relive memories of the past. The present owners were given a school shield with a brass plate suitably engraved by Paul Ennis. This was presented by Gill Leake. More food and drink was consumed here, photographs taken and many former residents were allowed to roam around the grounds.
All in all, it was a memorable day. I think, from the reaction of many who came - and some who were unable to do so - that we may well have a further reunion in September 2009.
Memories - Michael Plenderleith
Neville Chamberlain - "Peace in our time" Michael Plenderleith was a pupil at Five Ways when the school was evacuated, he now lives in Gloucestershire and was inspired by Colin Spencer's editorial in the FWOEA Newsletter 64 to send us a few short memories, describing his email, "...a few memories from one who stayed the pace". Michael has promised to expand, but here are a few recollections to begin with:
"It all started 12 months earlier when Dobinson had us all assembled in the School Hall for evacuation to Evenlode, but Chamberlain came back waving his paper 'Peace in our Time', a great disappointment to us all!
Why on 1st September did we all have to walk to Snow Hill Station, singing 'With a 100 Pipers' and other Gaudeamus tunes, to our own words, when George Dixon's were taken by bus to Five Ways Station?
Then our paper bag of emergency rations - chocolate was greedily consumed on the train journey to Monmouth, and the GWR brown carriages turned white from the tins of condensed milk, pierced and held out of the train windows.
On arrival the streets to Rolls Hall lined with Girl Guides as a girls school was expected. The problem of getting the townsfolk to accept boys! Four of us were billeted in the house immediately below Monmouth Girls School - owned by a maiden aunt, with her maid, and during term time two nieces from Amersham who attended that school.
Our luck was in, two twin bedded rooms on the third floor - I believe the house is now the home of Monmouth Boys School headmaster.
Sadly it didn't last, the next day all four of us were up in front of Dobinson for getting chocolate on the sheets and crumbs in our beds! Two of us survived for a year until School Houses were set up when we moved down the road to 'Sanroyd House' so named by two mothers - Mrs Sandey & Mrs Ackroyd - who didn't realise what they were taking on!"
Aha Michael! So you were the source of that story in Mr Watkins' book!
Eigor Osmend comes to town
The incredible ELO - photo taken 2007 Eigor Osmend (ELO) is possibly the school's longest serving teacher throughout it's history. Born in Wales himself, ELO joined the school while it was evacuated in Monmouth. Fresh from University, young Eigor was not much older than the school's sixth formers. Here is a transcribed extract from an interview conducted with ELO at his home in Barnstable in 2007:
ELO: I joined the school in Monmouth because when the war started in 39 I was just finishing university so I went to the Rose Hall and volunteered for the RAF. But they looked at me and said “Aah polio…bumph… nothing” but I’m still alright up here and I could still write and I could take somebody off a desk, you know? However, they wouldn’t have it, they wouldn’t have it at all, so er, I joined the Home Guard.
(chuckles)
Joined the Home Guard and I was there a week and I was made the platoon commander. I eventually became the platoon commander of the… oh, now what do they call it? It was a reserve platoon that would go wherever there was trouble I was called to go out to it, so I had a very busy time because Monmouth in those days was, er, a whole host of evacuees were there, from London as well, and Peter Gilbert, you remember Peter Gilbert? He was the biology master at school then, he and I were digging with Miss Hill and when the war was over he went to South Africa and there was trouble in South Africa so he went to Rhodesia and he taught in a Rhodesian school out there.
He was a great friend of mine, yes I missed him when he went. But there we are. That’s life isn’t it?
PJM: Yes people come and go don’t they?
ELO: That’s right
PJM: So were you living in Monmouth?
ELO: Well, he and I were digging with Miss Hill, now it was near the post office, by the post office there was a driveway going down to the Hill’s, where we were, but now of course it’s a garage, that driveway to a garage and the house has become … well there’s no one living there now, it’s been knocked down and the garage built there, so some of my memories have gone now, disappeared.
PJM: So what was the connection with the school and how did you come to join up with it? Was that while the school was actually evacuated?
ELO: Yes, after I graduated as I said, I tried to join the RAF but they wouldn’t have me because of my polio and so I joined the school and went to Monmouth with them and was there for four years. Four years we were in Monmouth. Then when we were coming back to Birmingham, I went to the headmaster, Dobinson then, and asked him for a reference and he said to me:
“What do you want a reference for?”
“Well” I said “You’re going back to Birmingham, I don’t know anybody there, so I’ve got nowhere to live, so I’ll go back home and teach in a school down in South Wales”
“Yeah” he said “Hold onto your application” he said “Hold onto it until Thursday and I’ll have a word with you on Thursday”
So I said “alright”. I held onto my application form, didn’t send it away and he came to me and he said:
“I’ve been to see the Governors and they have offered you £200 extra a year if you’ll stay with us”
And £200 then was a lot of money, you know? So I thought to myself, I must mean something to somebody! (chuckles) Oh dear me.
PJM: Absolutely. And that was 1945 was it?
ELO: That was forty… I went there in forty one, but the money came in forty four.
PJM: That’s when the school moved back to Five Ways in Edgbaston?
ELO: That’s right, yeah. So… it’s an experience. You wouldn’t believe it.
PJM: And how many years of teaching did you do?
ELO: Forty years at the same school. Five Ways. When I came up to forty years and I was what? Sixty two then, I handed in my resignation and he accepted it this time, the headmaster, Burgess, accepted it. So, off I went and I was on my own.
I’ve had a good life, had lots of experiences, met lots of lovely people and er… I can’t grumble. You know, not really. Yeah.
Business as usual in December 1939
Monmouth School Crest
Serve and Obey
The following article first appeared in the School magazine for the Christmas term 1939 and was repeated in the Five Ways Old Edwardians Association Newsletter in July 2004 to celebrate the 65th Anniversary of the school's evacuation:
School periods are held in the buildings of Monmouth School and, for the junior forms, in the buildings of Monmouth Non-Provided School in the afternoon, and begin with Assembly and Roll Call at 2pm. This assembly is attended by the Lady Helpers who are thus able to keep in daily contact with their groups of boys and who meet the Headmaster and Mr James to discuss all health cases and any other matters of importance immediately after the assembly is over. School lasted til 6.15 in the early Autumn, later to 6.05 and now during the Winter months ends at 5.50 for seniors and 5pm for juniors.
Mornings are occupied in Preparation in Big school for VIs, Vs and IVs, in PT periods for all senior forms, and in Football, Scouts (Mondays and Thursdays), Cadet Corps and Art periods for all forms. In addition there is Music for junior forms with Mr Mears and Mrs James in the Methodist Room. Boys who are excused games, and all others who wish to assist in free time go to the School Farm at Inglewood, while those who are having lessons in piano or violin put in their hours of practice.
These morning arrangements have been made possible by the kindness of the Headmaster of Monmouth School, Mr W.R. Lewin, of Archdeacon Monahan, for the use of St. Mary's Parish Room, of Rev. Williams, for the use of the Methodist Room, of Rev. Sayers, for the use of the Congregational Room and of Miss MacDonald, Headmistress of Monmouth School for Girls, for the use of the pianoforte practice rooms. On Tuesdays violinists and our cellist play in the orchestra at the Girls' School.
Evening activities in which our boys take part include the Club, at which we are indebted to Mr. Small for a bagatelle table for the juniors (the billiard table being reserved for the seniors!), the International Affairs class at the Insititute, the Methodist Young people's Guild and the Confirmation Classses conducted by the Rev. Dawkins, Warden of the School Chapel.
Every night, the Big School is open for Private Study, for the Five Ways lending library, for reading and for chess and other quiet games.
On Sundays there is Chapel at 9.45am, or services at 11am for those who are attached to other churches; reading and writing rooms, or Mr. Harrision's Musical Appreciation Group at 2.30, and the contests of the Basketball League.
When the Spring comes and the various firms who have boats for hire re-open business, there will be this additional opportunity for the sixty good swimmers who obtained river permits in September.
No account of our activities should close without reference to our great indebtedness, for their ceaseless activities for the well-being and happiness of our boys to Captain Elstop, Chief Billeting Officer and his Committee.
School periods are held in the buildings of Monmouth School and, for the junior forms, in the buildings of Monmouth Non-Provided School in the afternoon, and begin with Assembly and Roll Call at 2pm. This assembly is attended by the Lady Helpers who are thus able to keep in daily contact with their groups of boys and who meet the Headmaster and Mr James to discuss all health cases and any other matters of importance immediately after the assembly is over. School lasted til 6.15 in the early Autumn, later to 6.05 and now during the Winter months ends at 5.50 for seniors and 5pm for juniors.
Mornings are occupied in Preparation in Big school for VIs, Vs and IVs, in PT periods for all senior forms, and in Football, Scouts (Mondays and Thursdays), Cadet Corps and Art periods for all forms. In addition there is Music for junior forms with Mr Mears and Mrs James in the Methodist Room. Boys who are excused games, and all others who wish to assist in free time go to the School Farm at Inglewood, while those who are having lessons in piano or violin put in their hours of practice.
These morning arrangements have been made possible by the kindness of the Headmaster of Monmouth School, Mr W.R. Lewin, of Archdeacon Monahan, for the use of St. Mary's Parish Room, of Rev. Williams, for the use of the Methodist Room, of Rev. Sayers, for the use of the Congregational Room and of Miss MacDonald, Headmistress of Monmouth School for Girls, for the use of the pianoforte practice rooms. On Tuesdays violinists and our cellist play in the orchestra at the Girls' School.
Evening activities in which our boys take part include the Club, at which we are indebted to Mr. Small for a bagatelle table for the juniors (the billiard table being reserved for the seniors!), the International Affairs class at the Insititute, the Methodist Young people's Guild and the Confirmation Classses conducted by the Rev. Dawkins, Warden of the School Chapel.
Every night, the Big School is open for Private Study, for the Five Ways lending library, for reading and for chess and other quiet games.
On Sundays there is Chapel at 9.45am, or services at 11am for those who are attached to other churches; reading and writing rooms, or Mr. Harrision's Musical Appreciation Group at 2.30, and the contests of the Basketball League.
When the Spring comes and the various firms who have boats for hire re-open business, there will be this additional opportunity for the sixty good swimmers who obtained river permits in September.
No account of our activities should close without reference to our great indebtedness, for their ceaseless activities for the well-being and happiness of our boys to Captain Elstop, Chief Billeting Officer and his Committee.
Five Ways Evacuation to Monmouth 1939-1944 by P.R.Watkins
An extract from Five Ways Evacuation to Monmouth a history written by a former KEFW headmaster Mr P.R.Watkins:
C.H. Dobinson's headmastership had so far been dominated by two leading themes: the quest for peace and international understanding and a belief in the contribution of country life to a town boy's education expressed most completely in the Evenlode scheme. It is ironical that the war, which so shattered the first, should have led to the unforeseen fulfillment of the second in the evacuation of the school to Monmouth. Monmouth is a small market town of 6000 people 70 miles from Birmingham, situated on the nbeck of land where the Monnow, rising on the eastern slopes of the Black Mountains, flows into the Wye whose source lies far away on Plynimon. It has a castle, the 13th Century Monnow bridge gate house, an 18th Century shire hall, a wide main street and a maze of narrow alleys, a girls' and boys' public school and a Rugby ground.
There could scarcely be a better place for a town school to live in wartime. The Wye Valley, the Forest of Dean, the undulating and sparsely populated hill sides of Herefordshire, the lanes, villages and castles of the border country, provide a unique setting. For five years Birmingham was home but for many boys at least, Monmouth was an adopted paradise in which the tempo of life slowed down and the realities of war were forgotten. For masters and their wives and for parents, whose family life was disruptedwhen they came down to help in hostels, they were years of ceaseless strain and long hours. Staff of all kinds recognised that in return for freedom from aerial bombing and from the exposure of the armed services they would serve without stint and with no form of financial reward.
C.H. Dobinson's headmastership had so far been dominated by two leading themes: the quest for peace and international understanding and a belief in the contribution of country life to a town boy's education expressed most completely in the Evenlode scheme. It is ironical that the war, which so shattered the first, should have led to the unforeseen fulfillment of the second in the evacuation of the school to Monmouth. Monmouth is a small market town of 6000 people 70 miles from Birmingham, situated on the nbeck of land where the Monnow, rising on the eastern slopes of the Black Mountains, flows into the Wye whose source lies far away on Plynimon. It has a castle, the 13th Century Monnow bridge gate house, an 18th Century shire hall, a wide main street and a maze of narrow alleys, a girls' and boys' public school and a Rugby ground.
There could scarcely be a better place for a town school to live in wartime. The Wye Valley, the Forest of Dean, the undulating and sparsely populated hill sides of Herefordshire, the lanes, villages and castles of the border country, provide a unique setting. For five years Birmingham was home but for many boys at least, Monmouth was an adopted paradise in which the tempo of life slowed down and the realities of war were forgotten. For masters and their wives and for parents, whose family life was disruptedwhen they came down to help in hostels, they were years of ceaseless strain and long hours. Staff of all kinds recognised that in return for freedom from aerial bombing and from the exposure of the armed services they would serve without stint and with no form of financial reward.
o
In May 1939 the Foundation already knew that when war came all its schools would be in the evacuation area and that five Ways was to go to Monmouth. In August, meetings were held at school, parents recruited as helpers and instructions were issued. The SOS broadcast to all teachers in evacuation areas found the staff scattered for the Summer holidays: A.J.Mears in Eskdale, P.A.Christian in France, H.S.Thompson on honeymoon at Eccles, and the Headmaster with a working party at Evenlode. J.T.W.James was at St. Ives in Cornwall and motored via South Wales to Birmingham arriving at 8 a.m. having driven through the night. He went straight to school and was given the job of organising the evacuation.
o
What the school magazine described as "The Great Trek" took place on Friday 1st September (1). Earlier in the week each boy had received a blue card containing the word Evacuation and the date. At 10.30, 350 boys assembled in their form rooms with rucksacks, gas masks and water bottles. Each boy was given a brown paper carrier bag of "iron rations"- hard biscuits, a block of chocolate and a tin of condensed milk. It was a day etched into the memory of all participants:
o
"Surely even those boys cursed with the weakest mental facilities will not fail to recapture the playground scene of our departure: the harassed section-leaders checking, re-checking and (just in case) again checking the numbers of our charges. Last minute instuctions were through the megaphone and, patience rewarded, marching off to the strains of the pre-arranged Gaudeamus song, whilst the rear of the column, 'tis said, managed quite well to the strain of a modern dance tune" (2).
o
So the procession of boys, nearly 20 masters and 10 lady helpers marched three abreast singing "Wi' a 100 pipers a' and a' " into Ladywood Road Road, down Broad Street and Edmund Street to Snow Hill. Hours later they arrived at May Hill Station, Monmouth, formed up once more and the "seemingly never-ending column" crossed the Wye Bridge, gazed admiringly at the wooded slopes and were welcomed in the Rolls Hall with buns, cups of tea and iron rations.
o
The authorities at Monmouth were expecting a girl's school and the route from the station had been appropriately lined by a detachment of the local Guides. Residents had offered billets for girls too, as one boy recalls:
)
"Four of us were taken to a large house in the shadow of Monmouth Girls School, in which resided a middle aged spinster, her elderly mother, a maid and during the term two nieces from Amersham who attended the Girls School". (3)
o
Like so many other wartime crises this one was quickly surmounted and billeting proceeded, supervised on the Monmouth side by Captain N.C. Elstob, the Second Master of Monmouth School and on the Five Ways side by J.T.W. James. That evening saw the black and white ringed caps of the "Birmingham Boys" for the first time. By 7 p.m,. a veritable Five Ways regatta was in full swing on the river (the only time boys rowed without a swimming permit), whilst others were exploring Monnow Street and Hereford Road, names which were to become as well known as Broad Street and New Street to the peace time school boy.
o
Two days later came the declaration of war but even the most politically minded boy can scarecely have visualised a sojourn of more than a few months. There were of course problems: the town was used to the presence of Monmouth School whose boarders were frequently to be seen dressed in their light grey suits, white shorts, red ties and straw boaters. C.H. Dobinson insisted that Five Ways dress should be functional - in the summer months shorts and open-neck shirts, in which he himself set the example. This was not at first quite understood in this small country town and there were Five Ways Prefects too who dissented from it and felt that the formalities should be insisted upon.
o
In general however the relationship between town and school was of the happiest. Almost five years later on 26th July 1944 there took place in the same Rolls Hall a presentation to the town of Monmouth by Five Ways parents of a memorial plaque to mark the end of the longest and most successful evacuation of any Birmingham school. (4)
o
1939-1944
From the parents of the boys of King Edward VI Grammar School, Five Ways, Birmingham. As a token of admiration for the high public spirit shown by the residents of Monmouth and district and in gratitude for the hospitality extended to the boys lodged in this friendly twon and its beautiful surroundings.
o
Presented by Mr Cyril Glover, Chairman of the Parents Committee in the presence of the Lord Mayor of Birmingham Alderman D.G.H. Aldridge J.P. and the Deputy Bailiff Councillor W.T. Wiggins-Davies J.P.
o
For five years, between 360 and 190 boys lived and worked in Monmouth. In scholarship they were successful years, in music a golden age and in games and out of school activity, years which saw the flourishing, which is only possible in a boarding school. These were certainly the crowning years of Dobinson's headmastership.
o0
(1) Five Ways Magazine Christmas term 1939 p.852
(2) Five Ways Magazine Summer term 1945 p.1496-7
(3) M J Plonderleith
(4) Five Ways Magazine No.77 Summer Term 1944 p.1369-1371
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