The year was 1948. The place was Odminster, a market town in the South Midlands, and the location within that town was the Grammar School. It was an establishment of ancient foundation, arising from an endowment of Sir Benedict Hardcastle. He had been the squire at the time of the Restoration and had come into considerable additional wealth because of the assistance he gave to a nobleman fleeing from the wrath of Cromwell's army. It could well be that his benefaction was conscience money, for it seems fairly certain that he had benefited well from both regimes by quietly betraying others whilst keeping his own head well out of sight even though his Christian name betrayed his family's sympathy with, even if not membership of, the Roman Catholic Church.
During the years that followed the school had suffered its ups and downs but on the whole it had done well. By the time we are concerned with, it was recognised as a public school, for its headmaster was a member of the Headmasters' Conference. It had a small boarding section used by boys from within the county who needed accommodation, either because of parents away for work or for a few for whom travel to a grammar school involved too long a journey in the scattered rural hinterland of the market town. In addition to these, the school drew from a wide radius. Some from Odminster itself, might walk to school. Those further afield came into the town by train or bus and then walked for the remaining distance. We are still in the time when comparatively few parents had cars and those who did have them did not regard them as normal conveyances for their children's journeys to school.
The newly appointed headmaster was a gentleman named Mr William Booth. His father had been a leading member of a Congregational Church in a northern town and had named William after the founder of the Salvation Army. William had been fortunate. He had obtained a scholarship to Oxford and there he had obtained a first class degree in history. It was during his time in Oxford that William had transferred his affections to the Church of England, understandably feeling that his prospects would be better with connections to the established church. He had initially obtained a job teaching history in a minor public school and had served his country in the army during the war until a damaged leg terminated those adventures. He had returned to his school and had taught with some distinction.
Whilst there he had played his part in the education of Peter Gillespie and had met his father, Colonel Henry Gillespie who was now the successor as squire to Sir Benedict. The direct line had died out early and it was a sideline, tracing its ancestry through Sir Benedict's daughter, which inherited the estate and with it, an automatic right to the chair of Odminster Grammar School Foundation, as the Governors were called. At the beginning of one term, Colonel Gillespie had arrange to see William. He had asked a few discreet questions and then started to talk about the school, its prospects and its needs. Then he said, "I think it will be to your advantage to apply for the headship. You're the sort of person I'm looking for. Steady, reliable and traditional. There's just one other thing that I have to check on. The Foundation Articles were amended during the early part of the nineteenth century and they require that the headmaster is a communicant member of the Church of England."
Relieved that he had had the foresight, all those years ago in Oxford, to change horses, he replied, "I was confirmed when I was in Oxford as an undergraduate and still worship with the Church of England."
"Good. I don't think there will be any problem. I want you. We'll have to go through the interview for form's sake, but we'll short list a set of dummies for the other candidates then the other members of the Foundation won't be able to make a mistake."
So it was that, in September 1948, William Booth took his place as headmaster of the grammar school.
It was a task he knew he would enjoy. He enjoyed teaching and he would still do a little. He enjoyed administration and control and he would have a great deal of that. He also enjoyed applying the cane to the rear ends of boys of all sizes and the school constitution, as laid down by the foundation gave him the right and indeed the duty to carry out that function. This was shared with the housemasters of the boarding section. They exercised that discipline over boarders for offences out of school hours and in the boarding houses. Selected masters also had the right to use the tawse across offenders' hands and there was an acceptance of some minor, unofficial corporal punishment. Amongst these were the gym master with his size ten gym shoe and the science masters with their metre rules. The tawse had been introduced some thirty years earlier, at the suggestion of the Colonel's father, who had been educated in Scotland.
This was the situation into which Simon Parry and Leonard Brown moved when they started their careers at the Grammar School. They had already seen a little, for they had been there during the previous year for interview after passing the eleven plus examination. They had seen the buildings when they had visited Odminster for the purchase of their school uniform and they had studied the school rules very carefully. They did not want to be in trouble that they could avoid.
Their uniform was straightforward. Until they were in the fourth form, at the age of fourteen, they wore short, grey trousers. Fourth formers were regarded as senior boys and progressed to long, grey flannels. The juniors also wore grey shirts. Seniors, who were expected to avoid dirt a little more effectively, graduated to white shirts. School ties were compulsory as was the bottle green school blazer with the school badge on its pocket. Caps were required wearing in public places when uniform was worn. Simon and Leonard, who both had older brothers at the school, already knew that the caps were the biggest irritation. The junior caps were reasonably inconspicuous, being bottle green with the school badge. Even they were liable to subject the wearers to cries of ridicule from boys attending other schools.
Senior caps were worse. These were not automatically obtained on graduating to long trousers and they were viewed with mixed feelings. There was a longing for the awarding of a senior cap for it brought privileges in school including, for those who did not go home for lunch, permission to be off the premises during the lunch hour simply by signing out. Others needed to get the permission of a master. The down side was the cap itself. It was not like the item worn by the juniors which did not draw attention to itself. It had alternate segments in bottle green and yellow. If the junior cap had produced ridicule from lesser mortals at other schools, this article produced derision.
It was a derision which was exceeded by the effect of the prefects' caps. Inside school, prefects were identified by their ties and the short gowns which they wore. In the streets, to the delight of pupils from other schools, they wore senior caps embellished with two circles of narrow, silk tape, one yellow and one green and a tassel secured to the button at the top.
On their first day at the school, the boys were given a hasty induction. Their form master issued them with their school diaries. Into these went messages home, notes of all homework set, order marks which were awarded for minor disciplinary infringements and, at the end of the week, could result in a dose of the tawse from the form master of even a visit to the headmaster's study for the cane. The remaining item in the school diary was a time table. In the first form, these were identical for the entire form and included a homework timetable.
During this introductory period, they had been warned that the headmaster would be coming in. He duly arrived and they all stood.
He grunted an instruction to sit down and removed his mortar board. All the masters wore academic gowns apart from the PE staff, who did not have university degrees. The headmaster was marked as more important by also wearing his mortar board when on his travels.
They sat and folded their arms on their desks as the form master had instructed them.
"You are starting a very important stage in your lives and you're a very privileged to join this school with its long history and tradition. At the moment, you are insignificant. I trust that you will all bring honour to the school, both in your scholastic achievements and on the sports fields. Now, the main thing is that you work hard, play hard, show complete loyalty to the school and display your recognition of the honour of being here by wearing your uniform with pride. I solemnly warn you all that, if I see any of you improperly dressed on your way to or from school, you will get a dose of my stick."
With that, he replaced his mortar board, the indication that his visit was over. The form stood and he walked out. They had met the headmaster and they were afraid. It had been his intention that they should be. There was something about the way he mentioned that dose of his stick which suggested to them all that he was looking for a chance to apply it. In this, they were right. On the whole, he would have preferred a senior boy. Long trousers were not lined and so he could make more of an impact. On the other hand, the lining of shorts did build in a certain measure of fairness. The younger boys had a little additional protection.
Back in his study, there was a knock on his door.
"Enter."
Derek Milner came through the door.
The headmaster said, "I'm sorry. I haven't had chance to learn all your names yet. I can see that you are a prefect, but please introduce yourself."
"I'm Milner, sir. You'll be seeing more of me than some of the others, sir. I understand that I'll be in your history class."
"I'll look forward to that. Now, what can I do for you?"
"I have to report Pratt in the fourth form, sir. He overtook me on the way to school, sir. We both come by bike. He must have known who I was, sir, or at least that I was a prefect. The cap's fairly distinctive. In spite of that, he was not wearing his. I have spoken with him and told him that I have to report him, sir. I understand that this is not the first time."
The headmaster swung round and took a card out of a filing box. He looked at it.
"You are right. He was caned twice last year for the same thing. I'll see him after school. He can't have a deadline, like boys on buses on trains. Tell him to report then."
"Yes, sir."
He went out. Mr Booth sat back in his chair. That was something he could look forward to all day. Gently, he rubbed his already inflating organ.
Victor Pratt was a fairly ordinary boy. This was his first day in the fourth form and so his first day in long trousers - his first day without the slight protection that the extra layer of lining provided for the younger boys. He had not been awarded his senior cap and this offence would delay its presentation still further. He lived up to his surname and seemed to walk into trouble. It had been sheer bravado that had encouraged him to overtake the prefect and he held no grudge. He knew the prefect had no choice. He could not simply warn him. Just as he had passed Milner, a master overtook them both in his car. Milner would have been for the high jump if he had not reported him.
Promptly, after the last lesson, he was in the queue outside the study. It seemed an age before he reached the front. Inside, he stood in front of the headmaster's desk.
"I'm Pratt in the fourth form, sir. Milner said you want to see me."
"I don't want to see you. It's my unfortunate duty to have to see you, boy." The headmaster lied.
He went on, "You chose to travel to school without your cap and then blatantly paraded yourself in that state of undress in front of a prefect. It is an honour to be a boy at this school and one of the ways you display your recognition of that honour is by identifying yourself with us and wearing your cap. As you seem incapable of recognising the honour of being allowed to wear it, you can wear it, instead, because you are afraid of the consequences of doing anything else. I have no choice. I have to use the cane. Select a chair for yourself."
This indicated to Pratt that Mr Booth was following the method employed by his predecessor. Along one side of the study were several wooden chairs of different heights. A boy to be caned took a chair whose back was the right height for him. He had to bend over the back, reaching forward and holding the front legs. That back had to be high enough to help to hold him in position but not so high that he had to strain or stand on his toes.
Pratt took the chair he could see was the right size. He started to bend over and the headmaster said, "Before you get down, pull your shirt tail clear of your seat, please."
This was a refinement the previous headmaster had not indulged in. The boy pulled his shirt tail up, bent forward and pulled his blazer well clear. Then he pressed right down and grasped the legs of the chair. Now, all he could do was wait.
Meanwhile, the headmaster had gone to the cupboard containing the canes. This was a new supply. The ones he had inherited had been a poor lot. Now he had a selection and a fourth form boy would experience a senior cane. It was thicker and therefore heavier than its junior companion.
He crossed the room to the waiting boy. This was to be his first caning and he was going to enjoy it. He ran his right hand over the boy's trouser seat, checking whether it felt as though there was any padding. Then he transferred the cane to his right hand and took position. He held the weapon about an inch clear of its target, setting the length so that it would end just as the curve of the seat developed. To have too much spare might result in most of the power developing as it was transferred to the final few inches. This could cut badly and would result in parental protest or it could dissipate harmlessly. Both were to be avoided. Now, he was ready.
He took the cane back as far back as he could. Then he allowed his body and arm to move rather like a clockwork spring, bringing all the power he could into that stroke. It contacted squarely across the centre of Pratt's seat.
For the boy, he had just been aware of the sound of the movement as the cane sped towards him. Then he felt a rush of pain well up from that line of impact. He clamped his jaws closed. He was not going to cry out and give this bastard the satisfaction of hearing him. He tightened his grasp on the chair legs. He was not going to let go and be told to resume his position. The only thing he could not prevent was an involuntary movement as his head went back in response to the surge of pain which seemed to fill every part of his body.
As for the other participant in this drama, the headmaster knew that he had struck well and was determined to continue doing so. He aimed again. He took the cane back and drove it forward again.
CRACKK!
It struck a second time. It left a stripe parallel to the first and half an inch below it. The headmaster knew this from remembering where the last had fallen. Once again, the youth felt the pain surge from that line of impact and once again, he applied all his talents to restricting the headmaster's enjoyment. He was not going to loose his grip and he was not going to cry out. He could not prevent the tears which were beginning to appear.
CRACKK!
The cane fell a third time. Victor Pratt wondered how many more. As a fourth former, he knew that three was the minimum he could expect. How many more than that would he get?
CRACKK!
That was the fourth. He sensed, rightly, that it had gone diagonally across the other three.
To his relief, he heard the headmaster say, "Get up and put the chair away."
Victor obeyed.
The headmaster returned the cane to the cupboard and went back to his desk. He wrote on Victor's record card and filled in an entry in the punishment book. He turned it round and said, "Check the details and then sign it.
The boys did not know this, but the requirement to sign the book had started some years ago when a headmaster had taken to giving far bigger canings than he was recording and he very narrowly escaped appearing in court.
Victor read the entry and signed.
The headmaster said, "Be warned. If you are back here again for failing to wear your uniform correctly, I won't be so merciful. Now, go."
Victor made his escape, taking his handkerchief out and wiping his eyes and blowing his nose as he got clear.
Outside the study two of his friends were waiting.
Michael Coleman said, "Blimey! Four for not wearing your cap!"
Victor replied, "Not just four. Four bloody good ones. Do you want to see the damage?"
Tony Shaw replied, "Yes, please."
"OK, let's go to the bogs."
They made their way to the toilets. Victor went into a cubicle. The other two stood just outside. It was a well developed ritual. If someone who might object arrived, Victor would close his door and the other two would go into other cubicles, close their doors and pretend to be using the throne. Victor slipped his trousers down, lowered his pants and raised his shirt tail. He displayed three parallel weals with a fourth crossing them. At each intersection there was a well developed additional mark. Tony Shaw gently ran his fingers over.
"Blimey! They're real ridges. He's a lot worse than the old beak."
Victor replied, "You're telling me. We'll have to warn the others. If you aren't ready for it, you could loose or squawk."
Tony asked, "You didn't, did you, Pratt?"
"No, but it was a close thing."
He got dressed again. They collected their belongings and went to the bike sheds.
Victor said, "I'm glad I'm on my bike. At least, with a narrow saddle, I'll be sitting where he hasn't got."