First School

Going to school for a young boy and his parents can be a traumatic experience, but he enjoyed it! Being a gregarious little fellow it was a natural progression for M and he was happy, most of the time, although some things tested his spirit. He loved stories and most activities but some of the adults seemed a bit miserable and didn’t share his natural exuberance. Nevertheless his days were spent happily learning new things before returning home and playing; if all “school” was like this he would have no problems!

There were, inevitably days and events that were better or worse than others, a good day was playing Rounders or other sports, all of which he loved; days he did not enjoy were ones when he felt misunderstood!

Such a day was the one when he took his new lunch box to school; he was especially proud of this as it was designed like a small leather case, a cross between an attaché case and a suitcase. Unfortunately not all the children shared his love for this cherished possession and made fun of his “handbag” resulting in him having to sort the matter out by hitting the main jokester which seemed only fair to him.  However, not everyone shared his view of fair, especially the adults who proceeded in telling him what a naughty boy he was, keeping him in at playtime and, worst of all, made him stand in the corner away from his friends and whilst the adults had their lunch – how unfair was that?!!  Thinking back he can remember, everything about it, the faces, smells of lunch but most of all, the plain wall that he was so close to, wondering why he was there after all he hadn’t been the one who’d caused the trouble! Life was just beginning to be unfair.

Then there was the time when he was taking part in the Sports day, something he enjoyed and was good at, only to be disqualified from the egg and spoon race because he won so easily they said he must have cheated and held onto the egg; the indignity, the hurt! Maybe this was the start of the present day egalitarian approach to sports in schools were competition is frowned upon and everyone is a winner or could it also have been the start in him when he was going to beat the system and show them?!

Whatever, it was a day that still stings, even if the years have stretched and whether or not he did actually hold the egg with his thumb or not has blurred in the memory, the injustice and humiliation is crystal clear. Perhaps the other school thing that still rankles is the mothers’ Rounders game against the children when he was out to his mother’s bowling something that was to irk him for many a day; it just doesn’t or shouldn’t happen, you should score a rounder or be run out making a magnificent dash for glory but not out just standing there in the crease!

During these years he, like most of his age, went to lots of parties and was the life and soul of most of them but even then he had a panache for maybe going just too far, something that was to stay with him for the rest of his life! At one he fell in the pond, right at the start, even before the jelly and trifle and had to go home; whilst at another, running around, he made himself sick, obviously after the jelly and trifle, and again was returned home prematurely.

But his days, by and large, were still happy and carefree, with the odd mishap. However, once again this was about to change, as he was packed off, at the age of seven, to boarding school!

Early days

To begin at the beginning…it was the best and worst of times; the best because he was born successfully, the second son for his mother & father, the worst, as it was the end of the war, his father was away and it was bitterly cold & snowing! Therefore, the first member of the family to see M was Uncle G, whom he took after in name & nature and thus a close bond was formed for the rest of their lives. G brought snowdrops for the mother, his sister, and thus M was heralded into this world, more with a shudder than a bang! He doesn’t remember a great deal about the next few years so most of what follows is apocryphal! 
His parents were ordinary working folk; the father born in Thornton-le-Street and mother in Liverpool. They met through the uncle, as the father had moved from Leeds to Liverpool in search of work, later to be followed by his mother. His father played rugby for Liverpool, as did his Uncle and inevitably he invited my father home were he was introduced to his sister, the woman who was to become his future wife. They say food is the way to a man’s heart and it certainly proved the case for his father, as he went regularly to Aigbuth, after games of rugby, or training, to be fed; and the rest is history. The parents married, the day after the Second World War began and moved into a house brought by his grandfather to begin married life. Grandfather had sold his family home and brought the house for himself, his daughter and her new husband; his wife had died shortly after their daughter was born. This was one of many coincidences in life as the husband's father had died, of pneumonia in his early thirties, when he was still an infant. Thus life began their new life with the husband in the Navy and his mother at home looking after Grandad.
His brother, IG, was born three years before, whilst their father was on leave from the navy, he was to grow into a strapping six footer whist M was to be the runt of the family.

So it was that he was born in one of the coldest winters ever, still compared with when we have a cold snap; a poorly child at first, not eating and yet getting bigger by the minute; at ten months they eventually found and, most probably just in time, that he needed an operation to remove ten feet of  gut which was or had become twisted! Well, that must have been a relief to everyone not least of all to him! His brother obviously felt the need to feed him up as he was caught feeding him worms whilst he was still in a pram; so at least, as IG said, his baby brother didn’t feel neglected. The next memorable occasion also featured his elder brother, when IG pushed M down a small embankment onto a broken bottle, necessitating stitches in his knee. M never learned the justification IG gave for that act of kindness towards his sibling, but I’m sure he had one!

Now, I don’t want you dear reader to get the wrong impression, M was not an unhappy child, far from it, everyone said, so I’m told, that he was a very happy child with a loving nature, maybe that’s why his brother felt he needed some corrective  work!

Most days were spent running & playing in the garden or being taken to the shops a couple of miles away which, at this tender age, seemed a real adventure.  So the days went into weeks, months and years with little to distinguish them other than the weather; why is it that summer’s seemed hotter and winter colder then? I don’t know but it did. 
The war was over, rationing was in, father worked in Liverpool as did Uncle G, one for an Insurance company and the other in cotton; mother looked after M, his brother and Grandad. However, all this idyllic life was about to change as he was introduced to a thing called School!