THE GOVERNOR

Almost every boy at the Home was afraid of an encounter with the Governor. It was not the case that we were always caught by him doing wrong deeds.
He had the ability to be at any location where you were up to mischief or simply doing a minor deed that you knew was wrong. Some of the Sisters and Houseparents sent their children straight over to him when in trouble.
The Sister I was with never sent anyone to the Governor unless it was very serious. Having been in this Home longer than he had, and having worked at two NCH Approved Schools before coming to Highfield. It was thought that with her experience, she had a better idea of how we should be controlled.

 With my agile and fast movements, I was often in a position to spot the Governor and depart the site of any crime before he descended. Often a clue to his whereabouts was to keep an eye on where his car was parked, if it was located other than by his house, it meant he was in the area – not the best time to be found in the orchard or near the incinerator. If you were a younger boy, the small cane or baton that he often carried with him, gave a clue to what you could expect, if you were caught committing a crime that did not warrant serious punishment. A quick very light swipe and you knew not to be caught at that activity again.

My first real encounter with the Governor had been a few months after my arrival; a group of older boys had decided to make a raid on the local outdoor model railway club that was next to the grounds of the Home. This was run by adults, for the enjoyment of adults, and we were not invited.

The model railway club was located on a plot of land that at one time had really been part of the estate of the Home.  A disused railway cutting separated the two locations, and although this was really out of bounds, we used this as a wild play area where few staff from the Home were ever likely to visit.

To show that we were not welcome in the club, a tall gate was padlocked shut when not in use. Surrounding the club area was a fence with barbed wire; this was in a way odd for something in the Home: it would have been thought that any fences would be used to keep us in not to keep us out.

For a challenge, the older boys had decided that if adults wanted to keep us out there must be a good reason. All that could be viewed from outside the fence were lengths of concrete girders with lengths of railway track. For the inquisitive, there had to be something very special for the need to keep us out. If damage was done to property in the Home, it was quite easy for the adults to work out the most likely persons responsible.

Possibly recent war films of prisoners escaping from camps were the basis for the event. The older boys took pride in finding ways over the wire. A few of us younger members were used as lookouts, and if any adults were spotted we should shout out a code word to alert those inside the wire. Had any adults been spotted, shouting out something would have brought far more attention to us than had we just been thought playing in the vicinity. Eventually the older boys emerged. They had found the hut where the members met. Nothing worth removing had been found except for a small amount of loose change. The money was now divided up according to age and deed. We were quite pleased with our share of the spoils and soon made ourselves scarce. All of us knew that if our Sisters found money on us, there would be many questions as to how we had come across it. Pocket money on a Saturday was soon spent and apart from church money or money for cubs, there were very few left with money after Saturday afternoon.

That particular day was a club day. Originally designed to teach and inform, it had turned into a meeting place where the latest records could be played and the older ones could show off the latest dance craze. For the eight to ten year-olds, it was more of a place to cause a nuisance. The club was the one place where you could spend money in the Home. A small tuck shop that sold fizzy drink and a few sweets catered for the lucky few that still had a small amount of money. A few things were offered at less than the normal shop price, but few of us ever had any money left to take advantage. Together with a friend, we had soon spent our money on a bottle of fizzy drink and some sweets. We stayed around, as when you returned the bottle the deposit money was given back enabling more sweets to be purchased; if we had not been greedy we would not have been found out.

At what moment the Governor had been informed of the deed we did not know. Picking the very day that the model club had its meeting was not the best idea of the older boys to mount the raid. Had it been done the following day then it would have been several days before the matter became known.

With the grounds being generally deserted, the Governor had come across to the hall where the club was held. If the day’s takings were up, he soon found it out. Grabbing one of the older boys, who was the least likely to have any spending money, soon brought forth the names of his close accomplices.

One by one the gang formed, and he managed to round up most of those who had been involved. The normal rule was that you did not split on anyone, but it did not apply if you were an older boy telling on a younger boy, or by dropping someone else in it your punishment might be slightly less.

All of us were marched outside and formed into a line. From where we stood, we could see that the others who had been in the club had come to see what was in store for us. They kept at enough distance to be not really in view, and even the Governor knew they were there. Possibly them watching our punishment was the worst thing that could happen. The shares of the money were soon worked out until the missing amount was accounted for.

Several small scraps of paper were now handed to us. The figure of money we had stolen was written on each. These were to be handed to our Sisters when we returned indoors; this amount would be deducted from our next pocket money, and anyone failing to hand the slips in would lose twice the amount the following week or for however many weeks it took.

The punishment was not yet over. Each of us now received a whack across the palm of one of our hands with his baton, and was given the instruction to go and return to our flats. All of us seemed to have the stick in a similar manner. It did not hurt; we did flinch when the blow first landed, but there was no pain. Our audience was made to think that we were severely dealt with. None of us let on that it did not hurt; we let the others think we were just brave over the matter.

The thought of returning to the flat was not a happy one. Losing pocket money and getting even a light whack was one thing; having to admit to Sister what you had been up to and the punishment that would come from her would be far worse. The older three boys from my flat had not been involved in this crime, and having seen them witness our removal from the club I could guess that Sister already knew I was in trouble.

There was little time wasted by Sister over the questions on what I had been doing. The story that I had not actually been into the model railway was believed; however it was just stupid of me to take the money off the older boys. Sister thought losing next week’s pocket money was a just punishment; I did not argue at this moment, that the Governor had only requested the missing money be returned. It was thought that for the next month I should miss going to the club.

SCHOOL

In the second year of junior school, our old building was closed down. We now joined the main school where two new classrooms had been built in the playground to take us. One activity at school that occupied a large amount of my time was the swapping of possessions. Minor swaps would be amongst friends, and then other boys in the same year would be involved, followed by boys older and younger. Often the item you were acquiring was not even the thing you wanted, but if you could provide the person that you were finally swapping with the item they were looking for, it made the deal. After Christmas was one of the best times to do any exchanges. I was wise enough to avoid any of the swaps that involved large toys or items that were easily identifiable. Marbles, cars, puzzles, pens and the like could easily pass around the playground several times before getting completely lost as to who really owned them. Often it was easy to witness a few that made stupid or unfair swaps. A few days later, a parent would be up at school trying to find the culprit that had their child’s best possession and demand that it be returned. Some boys had toys that were of little interest to them, and offering money rather than a swap I did quite well. At the Home my locker often had the toy items changing quite regularly. If I had any doubt over a recent possession, taking it back to London for a few weeks often let things cool down a little.

One of the reasons for getting into trouble was due to my reactions, having being teased over the colour of my skin. In the London school, I had found no problems; at this school, I was finding that I was now being teased more than ever before. Once a few knew that this upset me and I became angry, the teasing was done more for fun on their part rather than anything malicious. It was equal to that given to a fat child or any child who does not seem to fit in with the majority. When there were groups teasing me there was little I could do. The only chance of retaliation was when one of my tormentors became isolated from the group. The minor fight and arguments that then started was the main reason I was often in trouble.

Most of the teachers thought I should ignore such name-calling. For a short period this was possible. When it went on every day, my short temper tended to get the better of me. One of the favourite names to call me was based on a character from a comic that most of the boys had read in a story entitled ‘Packi and His Elephant’. The regular tease was to shout out “Packi where’s your elephant?” I regarded that as one of the less hateful comments.

SCHOOL PUNISHMENTS

At the age of nine most of my lessons were with our own class teacher, it gave me the most chances of attention over any poor behaviour, and was now seen by her for my wrongdoings. Punishment-wise I was more embarrassed to be hit in front of others; I was apt to show my tender feelings. Crying in front of my class was far worse in my mind than the original punishment. If my friends were able to be brave, they did not often show their true feelings. If I was a nuisance, I never really learnt to behave at this school. Each time I was questioned over my latest activity, I never seemed to be able to explain why I did so many things that they disapproved. The events just seemed to happen; it was never my intention to be disruptive in any way.

If our teacher decided that a punishment with her 18-inch ruler on our legs was not the correct method, you were asked to remain after the rest of the class had been dismissed. Most of my punishments were now after the lesson had finished. Alone with the teacher it allowed for a more involved telling off that would not have been possible during a lesson period. Questioned in this way, it might be possible to have a good enough reason for one’s behaviour; this then allowed release without any punishment. A few in our class found that there was one stage worse than the ruler on the legs. With all the other female teachers in the school, if a punishment like the cane were necessary, they would send you to the Headmaster. Our teacher seemed to be the exception.

  Our teacher could use the threat of punishment. Her ruler was always on the top of her desk; if we were coming close to it being used, she would often tap it lightly on the desk. If we had any sense we would then behave. The cane was never brought out to threaten us; she used the fear of those who had already received it, to announce to others that it was kept in her drawer and would be taken out when you were to be given it. This was a very good way of keeping the fear of such a punishment in our minds.

A few of our friends never did believe us when we told them about our teacher keeping a cane in her desk; they always thought it was only the Headmaster or a couple of the masters that ever gave you the cane. The few of us that had received the cane from our teacher were in hope that the non-believers would soon be shown it. In the normal way these friends never got as far as being hit with the ruler because of their constant good work.

In my mind, the cane that our teacher used did not really count as a cane. This was not the long bamboo cane that I had experienced in the Headmaster’s office, or at the other schools I had attended. It was a shorter thinner smooth cane about the same length as her ruler and did not hurt as much as the normal cane. With this cane, there was a second advantage for me. As it was not the official junior school cane, as she referred to it as the ‘infants’ cane’, there was never the need to enter it onto the punishment pages; only when the official junior school cane was given, did it have to be recorded. The Governor from the Home when he paid his visits to our school would not know of my deeds. I was just happy the cane was always given without an audience.

Our teacher had two methods of using the cane. If the punishment needed to be a little harsher than the ruler used on the legs then the cane was used on your legs. To be hit on the legs with the cane was painful; it seemed to sting for such a long time afterwards and the marks could last for several days. There was often the request by our teacher that we should pull down our socks; this exposed the flesh of our legs just below the knee, allowing more pain to be felt. In a way I was happy over this order; once your socks were pulled up after the punishment, there was no sign of having had the cane. If you had gone a stage further than the cane on your legs, it was then given on your hands. The cane could land anywhere from the centre of your palm to across your fingers; if just your fingers were struck then it did really hurt.

Once over, I was allowed to sit down where a little more about my poor behaviour was discussed. I would now find my teacher consoling me and explaining that it was not her intention to make me cry, it was that she had run out of options of how to curb my bad behaviour. With any other teacher that had ever punished me, there was always hatred in my mind after the event. The cane given by my teacher did hurt, but I was unable to feel dislike for her in any way. I was happier that none of my friends had been around to witness my punishment. Only once did I feel that I had been punished in a more severe way than normal on one of the days I was given the cane on my legs. That time it had really hurt; it might have been on a day when she was angry with others and had taken it out on me.

Our teacher was quite capable of making one cry with an extended telling off; there were few in our class that could take a telling off that lasted more than ten minutes without crumbling. When I met the rest of the class outside, on many occasions I allowed them to think it had been a telling off I had received. If I announced that I had been given the cane, the information might get back to the Houseparent, and I did not want a second punishment for getting into trouble at school. Three on each leg was the maximum I ever received.

Contuned

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