A Short History of a Nearly Nobody

  I was not having a particularly special educational experience at Hardy's Grammar School, Dorchester. Having missed most of term due to glandular fever did not help, but academic I was not. Agricultural science was a great subject for me but the specialist teacher left and the subject was dropped by the school, so the end of my ambition to become a farm manager with it; Becoming a policeman was another dream, but a minimum height requirement of five foot ten inches certainly blocked that too (I maxed out at 5 ft 4in). I think my parents realised that the RAF might offer me a career, so I set off to RAF Cosford for assessment sometime in early 1957. This was my first time away from home and so armed with a Rail pass I was dropped at Dorchester railway station to start what was an "eye opening" experience for a 15 year old country boy. Changing train at Bristol Temple Mead station was interesting then the next leg to Birmingham was mostly through beautiful Engli...

My dad had a motorbike and sidecar and one day he decided that it needed to have a de-coke and the valves needed to be reseated. So this turned into my first lesson in motor maintenance.  Grinding in the valves meant having a sucker on a stick and some grinding paste. Keep grinding until the sound of the valve being set in its seat was a solid clunk, then it was done. This stood me in good stead in later years when I had my first ford van.

Helping my dad in the Bothy gardens went through a number of phases. At first we wanted to clear a path from the house to the gate in the wall at what looked like the bottom of the garden. Clearing and having bonfires is my idea of having had fun. The next task was to restore the health of the very many fruit trees in the garden. Dad had a book all about pruning fruit trees, so it was a job to be taken seriously. And slowly over a couple of years fruit began to appear. Apples, pears, plums, peaches of all varieties one could imagine. Coxes orange pipin apples are the best I can remember. In the old house there were fruit storage shelves so we could keep some varieties of apples and pears for many months. But the the best crop from the garden, down by the stream were the Snowdrops. Each Year we were living in the Bothy we (my sisters and me) picked snowdrops, put them into neat bunches of about 50 flowers each and backed with two Ivy leaves and tied neatly with rafia. Dad (or...

So we were to move from the modern council house in Charminster to a cottage on the estate of Dewlish House, in of course the village of Dewlish. The cottage was attached to the kitchen garden for Dewlish house and in the corner of a large field. The gardens were for the most part walled and enclosed about 2.5 acres with a stream running through the part outside the wall. The cottage had not been lived in for about 11 years, and had been occupied by troops during the war. So when my father lit the fire in the front room, it filled with smoke because of the remains of birds nests in the chimney. The electrics were in a poor state too. However the kitchen had a great Aga range for cooking and heating the water which came from a well in the back yard. The garden was a magical place and a bit like a jungle when we arrived. It was of course totally neglected but had a great variety of fruit trees including peaches, plumbs of all sorts and every type of apple that you could think of....

Other Hardy's school experiences that stick in my memory. One was of the art teacher who did Lion head sculptures to head the Gate at the entrance of the School. It was quite interesting to follow his progress as he worked on them. I wonder what happened to his work when the school was demolished. The school was also where I started to lean to sell. I took apples from the garden of the house where we lived after leaving Charminster. I sold them to some fellow students for a few pence each. One thing that did not appeal to me at all was the school dinners. My mother gave me the school dinner money (one shilling and six pence, if my memory serves me right) each Monday, and I used this to buy "fish and chips" at a local shop in Dorchester. I could do this for three days then went hungry for the last two. The school divinity teacher was a tall quiet man who had once represented England in high jump at the Olympic games in the 1920's. Nice chap as I recall. But th...

Not quite sure when we left Kingston Russel, but I do remember being taken to Hardys Grammar School in Dorchester by my dad to meet the headmaster for an interview. It seems that although I had been accepted into Bridport Grammar it did not mean that I was automatically entitled to transfer to Hardys. However, I was allowed in and another chapter in my school life began. As Hardys was a boys school and most of the teachers were former Army officers who had seen action in the second world war. The headmaster was a Major, the French teacher and most of the others were Captains as far a I can remember. The French teacher for my classes was nick named Calais (of course) and I did not learn much from him (but mostly my fault). As I have lived in French speaking Switzerland and France for many years now, I have paid a high price for my lack of interest as a student of the language. But I get by. One of my happier school memories was of the CCF Combined cadet force. I was a radio operato...