I was 11, at Primary school for both boys and girls. My class was waiting in our room for the next teacher to arrive. We'd been put on 'trust' by the previous teacher who had to leave. Mr Moor was running late. So, inevitably we all were soon talking loudly and mucking around.
I suddenly felt something hit me. I looked over and saw that Phillips had thrown a ball of paper at me. So I balled up some paper and threw it back. Soon an all-out brawl had started. The girls were giigling, and some were yelling - I'm stunned a teacher didn't come running, but our classroom was on the basemen floor, and the other rooms may not have been used for that period. Anyway, for whatever reason, no-one hurried.
I was in the middle of the war, we I suddenly felt something hard whack into my side. Owwww!
I looked over and saw Phillips laughing. He'd thrown the black-board duster at me! It was heavy felt, backed with a wodden handle
I picked it up, and stalked over to him. The other battles died down as everyone watched.
"That was a stupid thing to do" I said, facing him .
"aww come on Martin, take a joke !" he laughed. I didn't laugh. I grabbed his arm, and pulled it behind his back, and started whacking him with the duster- felt-side down, so each whack left a chalk mark on his butt. I slowly forced him over his desk. Everyone was silent, apart from his protests, as he squirmed and tried to escape. I couldn't let him do that because I knew he'd have me over a desk in a sceond !.
It was a fun game we all particpated in - putting chalk dust marks on someones butt. It was doubly fun, because the victim often got in trouble with the staff because he was untidy and covered in chalk !
Unfortunately, in my excitement and anger, I'd forgotten that my back was to the door, because I suddenly dropped the duster and turned aound as a firm voice said "And what have we here ?"
It was Mr Moor.
He was the sports coach, as well as our Maths teacher - 6'2", and very fit and well muscled. He was a dauntingand terrifying figure.
"Nothing sir !" I lied.
"Oh come on Martin," he said "don't make it worse for yourself than it already is !"
I went silent not wanting to get anyone else in trouble. I expected that Phillips and I would soon have our backsides whacked with the ruler.
Phillips stood slowly, milking the moment, rubbing his butt. He glaced at me and turned , saying to the teacher: "Sir, Martin has been picking on me !"
"Oh sir, that's a lie" I argued hotly, saying" he started this, by throwing things at me !" I wasn't taking the punnishment for both of us!
Phillips had a look of complete innocence, when he said "It's not true sir ..."
Mr Moor shook his head. "I don't have time for this. I don't know who started this, but I do know that you Martin, were beating up a fellow student when I got in, and I'm going to beat you"
"Oh, sir that's not fair" I wailed as he pulled me up to the bench at the front of the class-room, forcing me to bend over the edge of it, and grasp the other side. My butt was in the perfect place for beating. I could feel how tight my shorts were stretched.
Mr Moor pulled out the metre ruler used for drawing graphs on the backboard. It was a scary thing to an 11 year old. It was about an inch and a half wide, and half an inch thick, and made of solid timber - so a sizable surface whacked into our butts when it was applied.
Mr Moor put one restraining hand on my bac, drew the ruler back and whacked into my bum. "Owww sir, that hurts !"I cried . I had never been beaten by this teacher, and his reputation was for severity.
"That's just the start Martin", he said, "for fighting in class your lucking to get away with just nine strokes!" Everyone in the class gasped - that would be a new record. I'm sure some of the girls were looking forward to me being reducedto tears. I was determined not to give in. So I gritted my teeth and waited for the next eight.
They came quickly, and forcefully. I didn't yelp at whacks 2-6 , but the last two hurt so much I couldn't help it.
Mr Moor released his hand from my back, and I stood, redfaced and rubbed my sore butt. He told me to sit down and behave myself.
I slowly made my way to my seat, but could see Phillips smirking at me. He had really enjoyed setting me up .... I was boiling with anger at him. I smarted as I sat in the hard seat.
Mr Moor began the class. At first we all settled in to concentrate. But then the class started to darg. He began to write a long series of questiosn on the board, and I suddenly felt a ball of paper hit me again. I looked at Phillips, and was all set to throw it back - hard when Mr Moor turned. I was caught!
"Ahh Martin!" he said mildly, "I think you'd better wait outside ...your disturbing my class"
I wasn't going to take the fall this time ! "But sir!" I pleaded, " Phillips is just as responsible as me "
"Get outside Martin !" said thee teacher, more forcefully.
"But sir! that's really unfair " I whined.
"Martin, get outside - or you go to the Head other thrashing" said Mr Moor who was facing a case of insubordiantion.
"Oh typical !" I sneered bitterly, "I get punnished over Phillips again"
"That's it!" said Mr Moor he stormed down to me, grabbed me by the ear,"Oww!" and dragged me out of the room, telling the class to work on the problems he'd set, or get thrashed.
I soon found myself outside the Head's office, while Mr Moor explained what I'd done inside. My ear was very sore. I knew I was in for a fearful beating, and was already on the verge of tears because of this emotional and upsetting and painful morning. It was about to get worse.
Mr Moor stepped out of the room and motioned that I should go in.
I obeyed, and found Mr Anderson standing a chair swishing a scary looking cane. I'd never felt the cane before, and was more than a little nervous.
He said angrily : "Well Martin, you've been a silly lad, and I'm hear to show you what comes of rudness and disobedience. "
"But sir, it's so unfair !" I moaned , but he grabbed my arm and pulled me over to the chair, and forced me over it.
He said "Martin, I don't want to hear it ! You're to get 6 strokes of this cane to your backside. Don't you dare stand until I tell you, or you'll get two more. Now I want you to count each stroke. Mis-count and yu'll forfeit that stroke. Do you undersand ?"
I nodded resignedly. My heart was racing, but now I was too scared to argue.
I braced myself, bacause I wanted to put on a good performace, and not seem weak.
The head drew back the cane and flicked it into my exposed backside.
THWACK ! "Owww, sir" I said, tears filling my eyes "that's one"
THWCAK !" arr, owww sir, ..... two" I moaned
SWISH, WHACK ! "ooow sir , please stop" I cried
"No way of doing that if you don't count" he remonstrated "let's re-do three"
WHACK ! "ummmm threee sir" I cried
The remained rained down quickly. I was crying softly throughout, but managed to count each, and not jump up. My butt felt like it was on fire. I felt humiliated, and it was so unfair.
Mr Anderson let me up, and told me to go back to class.
So I slowly trugged back to Mr Moor's class where I was stunned to see the last of what must have been a series of beatings, bacuse Phillips was standing up the front, bawling his eyes out, as some nasty whacks with the ruler were applied to his butt.
Mr Moor quickly told me to sit down - if I could, and explained that it seemed that all the boys in this class were getting whacked today. He hit Phillips twice mor before letting him up. All the other boys in the class were red-faced. I later foud out that anther fight at broken out while Mr Moor was taking me to be canned.
My friends had laid into Phillips and his friends and a class-wide brawl had started. So, all the lads got whacked six times, and the entire class, including the girls- who cheered all the fighting, had to stay in detention. This would be particularly painful for the boys who would have rather spent lunch standing, rather than sitting very still on hard seats.
Mr Moor startled me by saying that I was exempt from the detention seeing I wasn't invoved in the fight. So as Phillips trugged his way to his seat (having shown that he could not take one punnishment as well as I could take two more severe punnishments) it was my turn to smirk at his misfortune.
All through that day my butt was sore, but I felt I had proven myself, and although I was still cross that I'd taken all the blame for the two incidences, I was much happier having seen Phillips also get his backside beaten. Of course I was destined to have my butt whacked many more times - but those are other stories.