By Keith French – SGSB 1963-1970
A Reflection on School Days
I was at Slough Grammar School from 1963 to 1970, why I put up with being there for so long I don’t really know, for I didn’t really enjoy my time there. I think part of the reason for me staying was that my mother and father were of a generation that was so very proud that their children had been given the opportunity to enjoy what they saw as a public school education, free from the burden of fees. I felt I owed it to them. My mother who had a reputation of being a little rebellious in her younger days was actually one of the first attendees of the new High School when it moved to Twinches Lane, she appears in the 1938 whole school photo as well as in a less formal class picture on the website. Her life, like mine, did not turn out as her parents had wanted or perhaps expected of her. She made the decision to leave school facing the prospect of a secure job with Barclays Bank but instead joined the Land Army to help with the war effort.
My feelings about my time at SGS are a little sad but honest. So often you hear people say ‘school days were the best days of one’s life’, well for me, every other aspect of my youth was so much better than going to school. I think, I must now however express some humility, such that comes with age. This along with the tempering of a tendency to display a degree outspoken arrogance leads me instead to be a little more grateful for the education I received. I am sure that it must have been my time at SGS that was at least partially responsible for setting me up for the achievements of my life.
I thought the Newsletter Editor, Glenys, might like to learn that I had known her father much longer than most of my fellow students at the school. I remember and appreciate his friendship. I lived in New Road, Datchet just around the corner from her home in Horton Road. I think I even came there whilst in the Wolf Cubs during ‘Bob a Job’ week in the late 1950s, I guess I was set some tasks by her father in order for me to get the one shilling remuneration. Most days I would see Mr Dickinson coming down past my house to get his car, which he garaged in Steele’s yard at the end of our road. Invariably we would say hello, of course as a small boy he was a large strident fellow. Someone who one would have perceived knew where he was going in life. It seems perhaps that I was one of the few students that knew his christian name, because my father always greeted him with ‘good morning George’. I remember telling him I had passed the 11+ and he was pleased to hear that I was going to the Grammar School. When I got there I soon realised my childhood impressions of him portrayed an accurate picture of the man. He commanded classes with authority and gained an enormous respect from both fellow teachers and students. He only taught me for a couple of years, I wasn’t very good at maths and was often relegated to the lower grade classes. In fact I did so badly in the mock GCE that I had to enter myself, I’m pleased to say I recovered my position a little and got grade three! I am glad I didn’t let him down entirely.
I remember when Glenys came to the school, quite a sensation. Even in the progressive 1960s it seems that the High school still only offered subjects considered suitable for young ladies. Girls were as I recall deemed to be forbidden fruit, staff were ordered to go to draconian lengths to prevent us boys from meeting members of the opposite sex who attended the nearby Convent. I had already been parted at the age of 11, from the girls who had been my classmates from the primary school. I think three girls from my year group went to the High School, sadly I never saw them again. The separating of friends by this one exam was in my mind a cruel social exercise. I understand the system still continues and indeed thrives today. I find it difficult to accept that making a defining decision about a child’s future at such a young age could have been considered a good thing for a balanced
society. I wonder how many children simply fell through the cracks and never achieved their true potential? As I grew up I found this separation of boys and girls difficult to deal with. This situation was resolved by my becoming part of one of the emerging youth groups of the day. There was no separation amongst the motorcycling teenagers of the era, branded rockers, with whom I became friends, they harboured no class or race distinctions and so life outside school for me became much more enjoyable.
It was interesting to read about David Browne. I remember when he came to the school. David’s arrival intrigued me. I never attended University, having had my fill of education by the end of the 1960s. However if I’d wanted to go anywhere it would have been to the London School of Economics besides their principle subjects being politics and economics it’s students captured the mood of rebellion, seeking to challenge the establishment present in that decade. I aligned with the causes so popular with youth, that of anti-war, I was appalled by racism, something that sadly I now find has not even gone away today and of course I lived and breathed motorbikes. I was not really following the path mapped out for me and as I thought then imposed on me by the masters. I only realized much later when talking to David Rogers that those young teachers, just starting out were not really much older than me, in fact they were of course also part of ‘my generation’. No wonder some found it quite hard to embark on their working lives in a school where things were not quite as it seemed or expected. An army of 600 boys were not all that easy to manage. Bullying was at times rife amongst students and went largely unchecked, on reflection I think some masters suffered from a form of this sport too. I regret now that I was not able to express my annoyance at the way some of these teachers were treated, perhaps there was no mechanism to do so back then, but I hope there has been since.
I have been very slowly writing my autobiography. Reflecting on my school days with honesty has been difficult. I thought that those recollections would only take up a page or two but in fact they filled a whole chapter. However as I put pen to paper, I began to realise that my experiences at SGS were what were to help shape the principles of my adult life.
David Browne’s words were to leave their mark on me. I still remember him saying one day to the class, that we needn’t be worrying about the Russians, this, at a time when the ‘Summer of Rockets’ was at the forefront of our inquisitive minds. He said, ‘it’ll be the Chinese we have to watch for’. I guess he was right, though not by means of a military incursion, this huge nation now dominates the economic world. In 2020 the war that we all feared arrived and we found ourselves facing an invisible enemy fom the East, Covid 19. Perhaps David’s words were spoken all too soon for in 2022 the aspirations of the present Russian leader saw him attack Ukraine and once again war has broken out in Europe, threatening the stability of the whole world. I was surprised to learn that this history teacher stayed at the school for all those years. I hope he never ceased to convey to his students the idealistic thoughts of his younger days but perhaps he ceased his trademark practice of hurling the blackboard rubber at unruly pupils!
He wasn’t the only master to make a lasting impression on my young mind. There was Jim Wharmby who really could talk from first hand experience of the horrors of war in the first half of the 20th century. He had served in one of the fiercest conflicts, in the far east as a Chindit. Whilst we sometimes remember him with a degree of humour for his ‘Big Bulgaria’ chant, without the interest this spectacle kindled in me I might not have taken the trouble to study the origins of modern Europe further and perhaps would not have been able to take a reasoned approach to the fast changing political structure of the continent. It is a great pity that our curriculum for modern history finished at the Treaty of Versailles for we were never taught that this ill thought out agreement lay the foundation stone for most of the world conflicts of the twentieth century. I remember watching Jim looking on in dismay on a day when one of the infamous riots took place as the ACF flagpole was torn down and the armoury broken into. Those who participated in this act of vandalism certainly did not show him the respect he deserved.
I was also taught by Bob Portus, an ardent socialist and labour councilor for the village of Old Windsor, where my family moved to in the mid 1960s. His unique, somewhat old fashioned, teaching methods gave me a good grounding in geography and geology, both have proved useful to me. I remember being made to go on a field trip to Juniper Hall, much to my annoyance, because I had just bought a Triumph motorbike. I would rather have been riding this machine than tramping around the Mole Valley behind Bob. I can still see him slipping over because his very well worn brown shoes were unsuitable for the task of hiking on a wet day. The only highlight of the trip was an illegal escape from the confines of the hostel to go to nearby Reigate to watch an ‘unsuitable’ film, probably quite tame by todays standards, I think it was called ‘Baby Doll’, I’ll leave the rest to readers imagination. I sometimes passed the time of day with Bob when I saw him after my schooldays were over.
The heads of the metalwork and woodwork departments were especially good to me and I enjoyed their practical teaching, I still use these skills today. Mike Currie allowed me to use the workshop at lunchtimes to make specialist tools for motorcycle maintenance and Harry Doncaster gave me his old BSA Bantam which became my first road legal machine. I saw him looking at it outside the school one day, I wonder what memories it held for him?
Another master I remember from my sixth form days was Mr Norris who taught economics and was also designated as the careers adviser for those not wishing to go on to further education. I was interested in the subject and today I still look to Keynes’ textbook, The Theory of Economics for advice when trying to find a way to steer through the minefields of recession. I guess I may well have to refer to its pages again in the next few months!
I think Mr Painter despaired of me. He had cause to reprimand me over several aspects of my appearance, I wouldn’t cut my hair and I insisted on wearing a leather jacket over the top of my blazer, this he felt brought the school into disrepute. I clashed again with him over my motorcycle antics, noisily breaking the Lacelles Road speed limit on my Norton, causing a disturbance during a matinee performance of A Midsummer Nights Dream taking place in the hall. To his credit he never tried to punish me, he had sent me out of assembly to await for his arrival at his office. I fully expected to be telling him I would be leaving the school. I wonder if on seeing that I was carrying my crash helmet and jacket as I entered his study, he simply attempted to show me what he felt was the error of my ways. Perhaps he could see my resolve and thought better of challenging it, something I will always respect him for.
About thirty years ago in my then role as Chairman of the Commercial Members of the Tourist Board I was asked to make a presentation to Slough Council. I was introduced to the then headmistress of SGS by the Mayor, I remember thinking as he told her where I had been educated, what would I do if she asked me to come back to talk to the students, could I be honest and say I didn’t enjoy it at all? I hope the diplomat in me would have emerged and I would say ‘perhaps it wasn’t too good then but I’m sure it’s much better now’. Anyway I was whisked away to meet someone else and the opportunity didn’t arise.
I was not good at English, I found it boring, my wife still questions today when she reads my letters whether I took in anything I was taught at all about punctuation! However I did eventually master to some degree the art of public speaking so I must have listened occasionally. I am grateful that I persevered with this skill. I hope it ensured that I did not make a fool myself when conducting a public debate. There have been a number of occasions when I was put to the test, whilst representing the UK passenger shipping industry. I found myself more than once challenging MPs in the House of Commons committee rooms, engaged in lengthy debate whilst consulting on the review maritime safety legislation. I hope they found me a worthy adversary!
On reflection I have remembered a particular event that may be of interest to Old Pals from the High School. This relates the Twinches Lane buildings. Not everything was lost to the contractors wrecking ball, when the school was demolished. We went in and stripped out the science labs and salvaged all of the wonderful teak worktops and cupboards before they were consigned to the contractor’s bonfire. We recycled almost all the material, using it to fit out a new large passenger boat called the New Queen of the Thames and to refurbish The Lady Margaret Anne, an earlier build, which was named after my mother who sadly died in 1982. All the timber that was left over afterwards I used on our kitchen when we built our farmhouse. Some early mornings I just sit there looking at the worktops and cupboards and wondering if all those years ago my mum had once sat at them in her lessons.
I never joined the Old Paludians in fact I didn’t really keep in touch with anybody I went to school with. Nevertheless I have retained an interest and occasionally cross paths with someone who was there at the same time as me. It is also nice to hear about them from time to time, so reading the newsletter is interesting. I often wonder how many sons and daughters of the two schools went on to claim fame in their chosen fields of expertise. Wikpedia names some but I suspect there are in fact quite a few more out there. Perhaps I might have to consider becoming a member of the Association one day, even now after all this time! Mind you it may be a little difficult to break the promise I made to myself all those years ago, as I muttered under my breath, “that is the last you will see of me”’ after receiving Mr Painter’s pessimistic career advice, offering for me to come back and see him if I wanted a job in insurance or banking. I seem to have managed to have made my way in the world and perhaps even put my mark on it, but that of course will be for others to judge not I.
Keith French MBE December 2020 (Revised October 2022)
Stay Safe
