Comments on: Mixed memories http://www.falconoldboys.com The site for FOBs and FOGs everywhere Tue, 13 Jul 2010 13:14:42 +0100 http://wordpress.org/?v=2.9 hourly 1 By: jpellatt http://www.falconoldboys.com/index.php/i-remember/mixed-memories/comment-page-1/#comment-17 jpellatt Tue, 16 Feb 2010 13:43:20 +0000 http://www.falconoldboys.com/?page_id=852#comment-17 I only received six strokes of the cane once in my time at Falcon, administered by my Hervey housemaster, Vic Laing, for whom I had the greatest respect and admiration. I was in my 'O' level year. The event which lead to this painful experience occurred during chapel one Sunday evening. Seated in the pew immediately in front of Mark Jordan, a contemporary, we were in the middle of a sermon being delivered by the Bishop of Matabeleland. To my increasing irritation Mark Jordon amused himself by slapping me about the ears. After several minutes of this annoyance I finally lost my temper, turned around and punched Jordan on the nose, causing a satisfying flow of blood! My retaliation had the desired effect as my torment ceased forthwith. The following Monday evening, towards the end of house prayers, I received something of a shock when Vic Laing called out my name to see him afterwards! I rapidly concluded that this was most likely to be connected with the chapel incident the previous evening. And I was right. On entering the housemaster's study Vic Laing said that DET had received a report at the end of the chapel service from the Bishop of Matabeleland to the effect that a boy seated in the Hervey pews had acted in a manner inconsistent with Christian principles in a holy place! The housemaster's enquiries of the Hervey prefects had identified me as the perpetrator. Mr Laing asked me for my explanation. I gave him an accurate account of the circumstances that had prompted me to deliver a blow to Jordan's nose. Vic Laing, in his quiet manner, told me that he entirely understood my actions. However, he pointed out that my mistake was to have acted in a manner which brought me to the attention of the Bishop of Matabeleland and that, as a consequence, he had no option but to apply the maximum sanction. And so he came from behind his desk, collecting his cane from the corner of the room, and applied a painful 'lesson' to my posterior. There is a sequel to this tale! Many years later in 1982, when I had moved to the UK, I was walking up the stairs from the Underground to St Pancras station to catch a train back to Leicester, where I was studying for my MA as a Beit Fellow at the time. Half way up the stairs I literally collided with Mark Jordan who was descending! We instantly recognised each other and repaired for a cup of coffee at a nearby establishment. He was then studying law, and we subsequently kept in touch for a while, at one point going to the theatre together. The passage of time and our respective maturity meant that we could look back on the chapel incident with mirth! Julian Pellatt (Hervey 1969-1973) I only received six strokes of the cane once in my time at Falcon, administered by my Hervey housemaster, Vic Laing, for whom I had the greatest respect and admiration. I was in my ‘O’ level year. The event which lead to this painful experience occurred during chapel one Sunday evening. Seated in the pew immediately in front of Mark Jordan, a contemporary, we were in the middle of a sermon being delivered by the Bishop of Matabeleland. To my increasing irritation Mark Jordon amused himself by slapping me about the ears. After several minutes of this annoyance I finally lost my temper, turned around and punched Jordan on the nose, causing a satisfying flow of blood! My retaliation had the desired effect as my torment ceased forthwith.

The following Monday evening, towards the end of house prayers, I received something of a shock when Vic Laing called out my name to see him afterwards! I rapidly concluded that this was most likely to be connected with the chapel incident the previous evening. And I was right. On entering the housemaster’s study Vic Laing said that DET had received a report at the end of the chapel service from the Bishop of Matabeleland to the effect that a boy seated in the Hervey pews had acted in a manner inconsistent with Christian principles in a holy place! The housemaster’s enquiries of the Hervey prefects had identified me as the perpetrator. Mr Laing asked me for my explanation. I gave him an accurate account of the circumstances that had prompted me to deliver a blow to Jordan’s nose. Vic Laing, in his quiet manner, told me that he entirely understood my actions. However, he pointed out that my mistake was to have acted in a manner which brought me to the attention of the Bishop of Matabeleland and that, as a consequence, he had no option but to apply the maximum sanction. And so he came from behind his desk, collecting his cane from the corner of the room, and applied a painful ‘lesson’ to my posterior.

There is a sequel to this tale! Many years later in 1982, when I had moved to the UK, I was walking up the stairs from the Underground to St Pancras station to catch a train back to Leicester, where I was studying for my MA as a Beit Fellow at the time. Half way up the stairs I literally collided with Mark Jordan who was descending! We instantly recognised each other and repaired for a cup of coffee at a nearby establishment. He was then studying law, and we subsequently kept in touch for a while, at one point going to the theatre together. The passage of time and our respective maturity meant that we could look back on the chapel incident with mirth!

Julian Pellatt
(Hervey 1969-1973)

]]> By: jpellatt http://www.falconoldboys.com/index.php/i-remember/mixed-memories/comment-page-1/#comment-16 jpellatt Tue, 16 Feb 2010 13:12:12 +0000 http://www.falconoldboys.com/?page_id=852#comment-16 I remember once allowing myself to be persuaded (very much against my better judgement!) by Miles Divett to obtain two packets of cigarettes for him during a trip into Bulawayo on the school minibus. The minibuses used to park outside the "C'est Si Bon" cafe opposite the City Hall, a convenient location for purchasing contraband! Displaying all the classic signs of nervousness I duly bought to packets of twenty, having first completed a 360 degree recce to establish that no masters lurked by. On the return journey to Falcon I stuffed both packets into my underpants, anticipating the possibility that a figure of authority just might search the minibus for such acquisitions. How wise I was to have taken this move, even though the discomfort of two cuboid shapes engaging with my reproductive kit was marked, to say the least. On the dirt road about half a mile from the main gates, in the lee of swimming pool hill, the slight figure of Mr Glynn 'Ivor' Jones (then Deputy Head) waved down the truck! All the boys were ordered out and instructed to leave their bags inside. 'Ivor' conducted a thorough search and, finding nothing, then proceeded to investigate the contents of our pockets. Thank goodness he failed to conduct full body searches as I would have received 'sergeant major' stripes for my efforts. The contraband was duly handed over to Miles Divett. It was the last time I allowed myself to be cajoled into such cooperation, however! I remember once allowing myself to be persuaded (very much against my better judgement!) by Miles Divett to obtain two packets of cigarettes for him during a trip into Bulawayo on the school minibus. The minibuses used to park outside the “C’est Si Bon” cafe opposite the City Hall, a convenient location for purchasing contraband! Displaying all the classic signs of nervousness I duly bought to packets of twenty, having first completed a 360 degree recce to establish that no masters lurked by. On the return journey to Falcon I stuffed both packets into my underpants, anticipating the possibility that a figure of authority just might search the minibus for such acquisitions. How wise I was to have taken this move, even though the discomfort of two cuboid shapes engaging with my reproductive kit was marked, to say the least. On the dirt road about half a mile from the main gates, in the lee of swimming pool hill, the slight figure of Mr Glynn ‘Ivor’ Jones (then Deputy Head) waved down the truck! All the boys were ordered out and instructed to leave their bags inside. ‘Ivor’ conducted a thorough search and, finding nothing, then proceeded to investigate the contents of our pockets. Thank goodness he failed to conduct full body searches as I would have received ’sergeant major’ stripes for my efforts. The contraband was duly handed over to Miles Divett. It was the last time I allowed myself to be cajoled into such cooperation, however!

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