GEORGE PITHER RECALLS SCHOOLDAYS &
TIME GROWING UP IN WW2

“THE MOVE TO THE BIG SCHOOL”

Then at the age of 7 the move to the big school and standard 1. Over the years we progressed through to standard 7 and a few boys onto X 7. Mr Tinley was headmaster (gaffer). Mrs Tinley also taught. Other teachers I recall were Mr Jenkins and Miss Cooper (Molly). Two of the classrooms had sliding walls which could be opened  out.  Heating was provided by a tortoise stove in each class and these burnt coal or anthracite, it was so cold in the winter.

We had a large playground, at the side of which were the toilet and cycle shed. Below the playground was the school garden where, in 1939, two air raid shelters were built on the right-hand side. The garden was divided into small plots and older boys were encouraged to plant, cultivate and harvest crops. A lovely old willow tree dominated one corner (more about this later). A small tuck shop, part of the house, lay behind the school. Mr Tinley was a strict disciplinarian, not averse to using his cane.

However, for really serious wrongdoings the boy was given a pocket knife and told to go to the old willow tree and “cut your cane boy”, no health and safety then. We didn’t know whether to cut a thick or thin one, and this was just part of the punishment. Six of the best was a common occurrence. I transgressed just once by putting a lump of carbide into a teacher’s ink well (for a dare).Mr Jenkins could throw pieces of chalk with unerring aim at boys talking in his class, or walk behind the boy misbehaving and lift him by the short hairs on his neck.

“THE OUTBREAK OF THE SECOND WORLD WAR”

I was 9 years old at the outbreak of the Second World War and remember well the declaration by Neville Chamberlain. Our family, my father, my mother, sister and brother lived in Odiham, a small town in North East Hampshire, a mile from Odiham airfield. Two brick and concrete shelters were built on the recreation ground just in front of our row of houses. Some families used them when the air raid warning sounded but they were dark, damp  and claustrophobic. Dad and I dug a hole in the back gardens, boarded it out, then covered it with corrugated iron and about 2 feet of earth. It was a complete failure and we never used it, instead we often took shelter under the stairs when the siren sounded.

One morning we were told that half a dozen boys were needed to act as casualties in a gas decontamination exercise. Another day off school? My hand was first up. Big mistake. We reported to an ARP building and then we were told to take our clothes off, whereupon we were hosed down for several minutes with freezing  cold water,  thus becoming decontaminated. Drying off with chattering teeth and blue fingers I resolved never to volunteer for anything ever again. At the outbreak of war in 1939 we older boys were given time off to fill sandbags for use at the cottage hospital, given apples for our labour. We thought this great fun. I think most of us had no fear about the war, perhaps excited.

No school dinners were available but we had a third of a pint of milk, free, each day. The raid on Odiham in 1940 was a real shock, the bombs landing in the High Street before the siren sounded. We filed into the shelter and sat on long wooden benches and recited our tables. This was to happen many times over the war years.   We waited to be collected by our parents and had to walk past the devastation and for the first time we realised the real horror of war. Double summertime was in force, staying light until 10:30, and we older boys were given lots of time off school to help local farmers.