The year was 1957, and it
was winter, a very cold one with Christmas only
a few days away. This was my last Christmas attending
Merle Common School (a Merle is a female blackbird)
and for once it was going to be a white one, which
only happens with snow about every five years,
although others are often white with hoar frost,
which gives almost the same effect. 1957, struth!
Come December that will half a century ago
As it was the last day of term, there was much
happening. During the day the last of the decorations
had to be put in place. The tree and most decorations
(all hand made - no not the tree) had been up
for two weeks, Today the garlands of holly, ivy
and mistletoe, were to be hoisted around the walls
and coloured, lanterns (candle power) placed in
every niche and on every corner of the main hall,
which was also the gym, a classroom and at times
extra dining area.
However, today it was a theatre as that night
there was to be a play for parents. This year
it was rather an ambitious production for a
primary school, usually they did the nativity
but this year it was to be 'A Christmas Carol'.
This shift in production complexity had been
instigated by the new English teacher, a chap
by the name of Fosh, who, with a name like that,
we all thought was a German spy. He was also
the music and theatre teacher and mad about
the stage. Even then I hoped that it did better
than the Easter play. We put on a production
of Noah but not all went well. Noah fell through
the deck of the arc and the unexpected arrival
of about ten genuine white mice (guess who)
sent the girls screaming from the stage.
One classroom had been turned into a dining
room, and over at the school canteen a herd
of bison ladies were preparing sufficient
food to feed half the nation. Bob Prior the
janitor was desperately trying to destroy all
the ice slides we had constructed in the playground
but we could make them faster than he could
salt them. Plus, he ran out of salt and tried
straw which didn't do anything but make a huge
mess, which he then had to clean up ...
The local bus company was going to run a bus
as a means of transport for those parents (about
85%) who didn't own a car. The school was about
five miles into the countryside and the closest
civilization was a forge about half a mile down
the road one way and the Royal Oak pub about
a mile the other way. My parents were driving
to the school and picking up a few other parents
on the way. There had been three cottages between
the school and the forge but these were now
nothing more than a few grey low walls, courtesy
of a German bomber that had been hit and offloaded
its bombs before heading home. Many of these
old cottages were never repaired but simply
left to dissolve back into the ground.
The play was to start at 4pm it had to be early
as this was a primary school and let's face
it, at that time of year it was dark by 3.30pm
anyway. However, this year was again to be different.
The party was to follow the production (which
went for an hour and a half) rather than before
as was usually the case. This meant that people
wouldn't be leaving until about 8.00pm, and
it was intended for all to leave as a sort of
group exodus as the night would be dark and
cold and nobody should be out alone. Looking
back now I think the later finish was to allow
parents, 'sink a few' before going home.
Merle Common School sat next to a very minor,
twisting country road that was edged with beech,
ash, chestnut and pine trees. The playing field
for sports (of all kind) was across the road
and so was one extra demountable classroom that
had been installed during the war when the number
of kids instantly almost doubled due to the
arrival of evacuee kids from London, escaping
the Blitz. The road actually sank into a cutting
to allow the railway line cross it via an ancient
bridge (Caution Low Headroom). This line then
ran down the back of the school and the sound
of steam trains thundering between London and
the coast was the musical background that uplifted
our dull lessons. However I digress.
About 9am the final refitted costumes had arrived
back at the school. These were no, amateur kiddies
outfits, these had been made by a team for professional
seamstresses working in the village of Hurst
Green, they were very accurate (but smaller)
copies of the actual clothes worn by both sexes
during the 1840s. Scenery was courtesy of the
prop department of the BBC. Surrey in those
days was the home of many famous actors and
so the school had 'connections'. I believe the
costumes were to be kept at the school as it
was intended for the play to become something
of a Christmas tradition. Naturally part of
the scenery we had put together and painted
ourselves. For kids, ours stood up quite well
alongside the BBC professional stuff.
So, the scene is set, it was Friday 20 December
1957 and the last day of my last term. The temperature
was just under freezing and a light snow was
drifting down from the low laying grey heavens.
Muffled in extremely heavy clothing we were
all going about our allotted tasks, laughter
was everywhere, along with rosy cheeks and red
noses (Struth that sounded corny). Mrs. Tidy,
the school's head cook even had chestnuts roasting
over a brazier in the playground, with gloved
hands you could grab a few and then spend agonizing
minutes getting them out of their hot skins.
Everything was well organized and the operation
was proceeding to plan ... until.
It must have been about 2pm when the furnace
burst, it wasn't an explosion, just a cracking
sound and all the burning coal and coke mixture
fell out of one side. You have to remember,
this was quite an old school and to make matters
worse, during the war the fire had been fueled
with anything they could lay their hands on.
Coal was more valuable than gold so anthracite,
wood and even pressed cloth took its place.
The furnace heated a boiler which pumped hot
water through the school radiators, so, no furnace
equals no hot water which equals no heating
... that's not good when the evening temperature
was to fall to about minus 15. On the face of
it, the festivities had ended before they began.
I would like to say that at this stage I stepped
in with some great idea to save the day, but
being an 11 year old with no great ideas except
for how to get my hands on Carol Vickers now
that the play probably had to be cancelled.
I played the nephew and Carol my wife -I had
being trying to get more closely 'acquainted'
since I first saw her years before at the age
of 5. We had become the closest of friends yet,
apart from some harmless stuff, it hadn't gone
any further - this was my last 'big chance'.
All adults vanished to the Head's study for
a conflab, leaving us to pass the time making
new slides on the playground and seeing if you
could get girls hair to break if dipped in water
and then stood the said female out in the cold
to freeze (you can't, it still just bends).
As you can guess this story would have stopped
here if somebody had''t come up with a plan.
However, a plan there was, a bit tricky but
the circumstances required 'tricky' to be accepted.
At around 2.30pm us male big kids (10 -11 year
olds) were gathered together and given 'The
Plan'. We were told to walk to The Forge where
six braziers would be awaiting collection. These
we were to bring back to the school and handed
over to Bob Prior. I think there were about
15 of us in all, eight to the forge and the
remainder to the Royal Oak for 'pallets' (at
that time I had no idea what they were). I was
in the forge party and off we set. By now the
snow was falling quite thick but there was little
or no wind so it wasn't a big problem; the trouble
was that, in places, the snow was deceptively
deep and it took us about 30 minutes to walk
the half mile to the forge. I don't know how
many of you had an encounter with a 1930s built
brazier but let me tell you, they are heavy
and I mean heavy. There was no way we could
carry them back to the school and even when
strapped to flat boards they were too heavy
to pull.
Then, as if by magic, Mr. Pepper one of the
local farmers drove past on his tractor, he
was on his way to pull a car out of a ditch
near the Royal Oak. I can tell you that it saved
the day as he dragged the braziers back to the
school with us kids getting the sleigh ride
of our young lives.
On arrival back at the school we were pretty
much frozen but even then there was much to
do. First we were sent back as far as the bombed
out cottages to gather 2 dozen house bricks
and return them to the school (3 bricks to a
kid). By this time the pallets had been dragged
back from the Royal Oak and placed in a row
in the window side of the hall. We then had
to put a house brick under the corner of each
pallet (not big pallets, each would have been
about 4ftx4ft). Then on top of the pallets was
placed some old corrugated iron, and on top
of these the braziers.
A fire was laid in one of the water troughs
in the playground (left over from a past era)
and once under way coal was added. Even though
some old canvas dodgers had been rigged high
up towards the top of the windows to guide it
towards the one open window, lighting fires
in the hall would have simply filled the place
with smoke. So the coal got fired to a glowing
stage out side and then brought in using scuttles,
to the braziers. There was still a bit of smoke
but nothing that couldn't be handled.
Naturally we couldn't heat the whole school
but the hall got a 'cheery' warmth about it.
The canteen was fine as the stoves and ovens
were gas fired and this kept the women more
than warm while they worked. Everything seemed
to working out just fine ... that is until the
electricity went out.
It was the weight of the snow in the pine trees;
eventually a major branch broke and brought
down the power lines. It had to happen, the
whole power system had been jury rigged following
war damage and, as it worked, it just never
got properly fixed again; I guess there were
just too many other priorities. By this time
we were all getting a bit jaded plus cold, exhausted,
hungry and generally fed up ... but we weren't
yet beaten. At around 3.30pm (it was now dark)
Mr. Jenner the bus driver turned up with the
first small batch of parents - these were the
ones who had volunteered to actually do something,
serve food, drinks and help with props etc,
brother did they get a shock. The bus was sent
first to the forge and then the pub to pick
up as many oil lanterns as possible, luckily
the school sat in the countryside and there
were a lot of these around.
On return these were slung/hung/stood/placed
around the hall, with a few to the canteen.
These, coupled with the colourful candle lanterns,
would give us sufficient light. Ten were hung
above and just in front of the stage so that
people would see the play, after all,
Out of my weakness
and my melancholy,--
As he is very potent with such spirits,--
Abuses me to damn me: I'll have grounds
More relative than this.--the play's the thing
Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.
Hamlet Scene 11 Act 11
Actually the lanterns gave it gave rather a
good effect, more in keeping with the era of
the play. Not all were lit at once as there
was a shortage of oil and some wicks were getting
down a bit, plus they were needed for a long
time so you didn't want them all running out
at the same time.
So, afternoon passed into evening and we all
pulled ourselves together to face the night.
Parents arrived and were much impressed with
all that had been done.
As to the play, well let's just say, with very
little modesty, that it was the best ever and
I believe is still remembered to this day (actually
this little missive was prompted by a remark
to this effect from an old school mate only
a month or so ago). The costumes were grand,
and the scenery became reality, it ended up
not being a play but the story itself (if you
know what I mean). I don't think one prompt
was ever required, which is unusual for such
a long play with such young performers and when
it ended there was a stunned silence for about
six seconds before thunderous applause that
went on for a good 5 minutes.
The food and drinks that followed the play
seemed inexhaustible, and went on much later
than had been planned, I guess it was just one
of those things that turned out even better
than hoped, such a rarity. Carole and I did
manage to creep away for a bit of innocent kissy
stuff but it was more giggles than anything.
I must say she did look smashing in that costume.
It was after 9.00pm when we left the school,
the bus pulled away crowded to the gunnels,
as cars timidly crept back onto the road. As
if to say goodbye the Brighton to London Express
screamed past the school, it's massive engine
shrieking and the cab lit from the open furnace
door, it was the last train I ever saw pass.
My one huge regret is that I have no ability
in drawing and painting; I have all these wonderful
images in my mind but am unable to put them
onto paper.
A lot ended that night; it was my last time
ever at Merle Common School, to this day I have
never looked on the place again. It was also
the last time I ever saw Carole, I don't know
why but we just never got together again. This,
I confess is very strange as we were very close
for six wonderful years. Her boarding school
was not the one close to where I went, it was
a much grander affair on the other side of London,
Carole, you see, as well as being the best looking
girl for miles around (and starting to get a
smashing figure) was very, very intelligent.
No more blankets of bluebells in the spring,
no more, playground follies, no more cricket
for the fun of it, life was to take a more serious
note from this time on.
Yes, a lot ended that night and probably the
greatest loss was the time of innocence; that
book was now firmly closed. From that night
on we learned to become 'adul'' and the world
became ... different..
