My wife had always been against corporal punishment of our 3 sons. She believed sanctions against them were the best form of discipline. I had argued long and hard against her beliefs but I had always given in to her in the end. Now she had left me. Just like that. No warning, no inkling at all. Just a note saying she couldn't cope with the boys anymore and she was sorry but I had been right after all. She was leaving me for good and was leaving the kids with me. The boys had all been upset. The eldest, Craig 12, John who was 10 and the baby of the family Bobby, just turned 8. I had read them their mum's letter and had finished by saying "I hope you're all satisfied. I've always said you were getting out of control. Well let me tell you things are going to change around here starting from now." The next day I had gone to a school supply shop and purchased a long, thin bamboo cane with a curved handle. Then I visited a barber supply shop and obtained a leather razor strap about 30 inches long. Finally I visited a livery store and acquired a long, flexible riding whip. Arriving home I had attached a wooden handle to the razor strap and then placed all three items in my bedroom cupboard.
I had also issued the boys with a long list of do's and don'ts. I had warned them of severe consequences if they disobeyed. I visited the schools the boys attended (John and Bobby went to the same school but Craig was in his first year at seniors) and was alarmed to find that the boys' behaviour and quality of work was unacceptable. I had told the teachers to expect progress and to inform me if there was no improvement in either work or manners. I had spent too much time working away and had not had the opportunity to see how my wife, or my ex-wife as I guess I should now refer to her, had spoiled our sons. I was determined to put the situation to rights.
The day I had come home was the last week of the easter vacations. I had been working on a oil rig in Saudi and had been away for over a year. To the boys therefore I was a virtual stranger but they had to accept me as their mother, who knew I was returning that day, had, it seems told the boys of her intentions. They had begged her to remain, saying they would be good, but to no avail. In fact, I reflected my work away from home was probably the cause of the kids no being so wayward. I doubt if I had spent more than 18 weeks with my family over the past 6 years. I decided on a policy of strict discipline from day 1.
As I had asked them to do the boys' teachers had telephoned me at the end of the first day of the new term. Craig had apparently been misbehaving in a geography class and had been sent out of the room. John and Bobby had not caused any problems at their school however. I decided an example would be made of Craig. He was the eldest and should set an example to his siblings. He would be thrashed publicly after dinner in the hope that his suffering would act as a deterrent to the 2 younger boys. The boys returned home from school and went to their rooms to change into their evening clothes. I had decided, in view of their juvenile behaviour, they would be treated as juveniles and dressed accordingly. Consequently all the boys were back in regulation grey shorts for school, the shorts being about 1 size too short in all cases as they had not been worn for over a year. Another of my wife's mistakes in believing the children were grown up. At home they were told to change into their school gym wear of white singlet, shorts and socks. Craig and John had done their homework, Bobby had none, and had sat down with me for dinner. When we had finished I instructed the 3 boys to wash and dry the dinner things and to go to the lounge when they had finished as I had something to say.
I had been in the lounge for about 15 minutes when they entered. I ordered them to stand in front of the sofa in which I was sitting. "Do you remember how I said I expected you to behave at school"? 3 heads nodded. "Do you remember what I said would happen if you misbehaved"? 3 more nods. "Craig, tell your brothers and I what I said about your behaviour and the consequences if you misbehaved". Craig stepped forward, turned to face his brothers and said.
"You said we must do as we are told, we must do our best, we must not be naughty and we must do our homework"
"Good" was my reply, "Now tell your brothers what I said would happen if these rules were not obeyed"
"You said we would be punished very severely" the 12 year old replied.
I fixed a steely gaze on Craig and his eyes fell to look at his feet. "What do we call people from Egypt, Craig" ? I asked quietly. He shuffled uneasily, suddenly aware why he was being asked these questions. "I'm waiting, boy" I pressed on.
"Egyptians, dad" He quietly replied.
"Would you tell your brothers and I the answer you gave in class today".
Craig sniffed back a tear. "Gyppoes, dad" he answered tearfully.
"I consider that is a very rude answer, Craig. You are going to learn that the purpose of school is to learn, not to get cheap laughs from your classmates. I warned you what would happen if you were naughty at school yet here we are on the first day of term and already you are in trouble. John and Bobby will watch your punishment and I hope you will all learn from today's events." With that I left the lounge, went up the stairs to my bedroom and, having decided on the appropriate instrument of punishment, withdrew the bamboo cane from my cupboard and proceeded back to the lounge. I entered, cane in hand, and strode to where Craig stood. Grasping his arm I propelled him to stand next to the arm of the sofa. I turned him to face the sofa and then spoke the sentence which caused him to burst into floods of tears "Take off your shorts".
"Please, oh please, dad. Please don't cane me. I swear I'll never be rude in class again. Please, PLEASE"
"Take off your shorts, NOW" I repeated and Craig, obviously fearful of a worse punishment slowly lowered his shorts and stepped out of them. He stood tearfully in front of me his bottom now covered only by a skimpy pair of dark blue briefs. "Bend over the arm of the sofa" I commanded and Craig bent forward with arms outstretched in front grasping the cushion on which I had been seated a few minutes before. I ordered Bobby to step forward and hold the cane. I then moved behind Craig and, grasping the elastic of the tiny briefs, peeled them over his bottom down to his knees. I took the cane from Bobby and addressed Craig. "You will stay in that position until I order you to stand. You may make as much noise as you have to but any attempt to cover your bottom will result in the punishment being doubled. The punishment will also be doubled if you rise from that position before being told to do so. Do you understand". Craig nodded and I noticed him dig his finger nails hard into the sofa cushion as he braced himself for what was to come. "You will receive 10 strokes. I want you to count each one as it strikes"
I positioned myself behind the boy and, after letting him sweat for a few moments, let fly with the first. "AAAAHHHH---One", a second stroke, just below the first "OWWWW-Two". The third and fourth came quickly taken the child by surprise. "PLEEEEZZ—Three, AAHHH-Four". Pausing briefly I swished the next stroke just below the crease in the boy's backside so it connected with the top of the leg."YOOOWWW-five". Craig was now sobbing helplessly and his brothers were watching open mouthed. I continued methodically thrashing my 12 year old son until the full 10 had been administered. I paused briefly to look at the crimson marks across the naked backside and, satisfied the lesson had been learnt, ordered the boy to stand. Craig stooped to scoop up his briefs. "LEAVE THEM" I screamed at him. "You will only pull up your briefs when I tell you. I will be lenient this time but if you do that again you will be given more strokes". The briefs fell as far as his knees, being too tight to proceed all the way to the ankles".
I turned to John and Bobby. "Have you 2 learnt a lesson today"? Both boys nodded. "And what about you, Craig. Have you learnt some manners today" ? The boy, crying freely, could only look at me and nod. Finally I ordered him to raise his briefs but to leave his shorts off. He was to remain in his briefs for the rest of the evening so the marks protruding from beneath the nylon would serve as a constant reminder to the other boys. I felt sure that, although the lesson was severe, it would not be long before further discipline would be called for.