A moment of panic struck me as I boarded the train, Oswestry-bound, via Manchester, on Thursday 14 January, 1960, realising that just two terms separated me from my A Level examinations. I was also conscious of the fact that during the Christmas holidays I had applied myself, excessively, to pleasurable pursuits such as joining a new badminton and squash club where, my Diary reminds me, there were lots of pretty girls only too willing to help me enjoy myself. 

Excerpt from my diary - Girls at the club invite me back.

Guilt washed over me as the 2.14pm train pulled out of Blackburn station and realisation dawned that I had barely managed to complete the coursework set for me by Masters DGW Felton (French), and JF Tilley (History and Geography), in preparation for my forthcoming A Level exams. Tartuffe, the French Revolution, and ox-bow lakes had all been put on the back burner for most of the Christmas holidays as I set about more enjoyable studies with a gusto. By a supreme effort of will, and by the skin of my teeth, I managed to complete my second History essay with just hours to spare before setting out on the journey back to Oswestry, as noted below in my Diary entry for 123 January. 

I finally get to grips with a History essay on 11 January.

My second History essay is finished before packing my trunk.

On reflection, however, I had  managed to find a happy compromise eventually for one knotty geographical problem, when I hit on the bright idea of inviting one of the girls at the badminton club, a geography student, to join me in an exploration of features at the famous Malham Cove, in Yorkshire, and we enjoyed a very pleasurable day together.

Malham Cove in all its glory.

Heavy snow lay on the ground, and it was freezing cold, as we arrived at School at 6.45pm feeling hungry and looking forward to the usual gossip and chit-chat about escapades and adventures that had taken place during the holidays.

I soon learned that there were three new 'bugs' at School House and that Jeremy Parslew, who had been made a Prefect, was tasked to help me supervise boys in the Junior dormitory. After chatting away well into the early hours I fell into a deep sleep, now in charge of the Junior dorm, aware that nothing much would happen the following day, academically-speaking, even though it was officially the first school day of the term. 

Sure enough, on Friday 15 January, after morning chapel and an assembly, there was a Masters' meeting at 10am, and a break until 12.30pm when we held a Prefects' meeting at which we questioned several boys suspected of being involved in the theft of a model aero-engine in the dying days of the Michaelmas Term. No conclusion could be reached, and at the end of the meeting we received forms for a BCG vaccination which we were told to send off to our parents ASAP for their acceptance and signature. I then paid a visit into town to get an estimate for the repair of my watch which had started misbehaving, only to be horrified to learn that the cost of its repair would be 25/- (twenty five shillings). I said that I would think about it!

The first day of term.

The rest of the day was spent sledding down the top paddock and frolicking in the deep snow, followed by an illicit drinking session in the school library, listening to the only radio left in School House, which I think belonged to Douglas Jones. At any moment we were anticipating the intervention of Stoker Lewis or the Moth (Headmaster Frankland), drawn to the library by the sounds of raucous ribaldry, but it never happened, and eventually we all called it a day and crept up the stone staircase which led to the dormitories wondering where all the staff were camped out.

Party in the Library: (L to R) Back - Parslew, Greaves, Lloyd. Front - Sharples, D Pickup, R Morgan and B Pickup (in control of music).

Diary entry for 16 January: Bache and Richard Jeremy have been made school Prefects.

L to R: Douglas Jones, David Pickup, David Bache.

Saturday morning came soon enough, and my Diary entry for 16 January sums up the day nicely. The amount of snow lying on the Maes-y-Llan made football an impracticality, so the whole school went on a run around the Triangle, which for me, was the highlight of the day. I always enjoyed distance running, and particularly so when conditions were difficult under foot, so I found the testing conditions to my liking. 

As I watched the rest of the field come over the finishing line on the playground, I made a mental note that we must initiate some kind of training regime for School House, as too many of our members had finished towards the rear of the pack, and the annual Sports Day would soon be upon us.

At Saturday's assembly the Headmaster had announced a change in the chapel routine on Sundays for reasons outlined in the following extract from the Lent Term Oswestrian magazine.

The Oswestrian, Lent 1960.

My Diary entry for Sunday 17 January reminds me of a new fad that had captured our imagination at School involving a piece of the latest technology acquired by one of the boys in School House. This took the form of a brand new tape recorder with which we somehow planned to record the Masters' meetings but, sadly, try as I might, I can not recall what devastating confession JFT (Tilley) let out of the bag at a Master's meeting. 

Sunday 17 January - confession time.

The BCG injection forms alluded to, and which I forwarded to my parents for approval and signature, covered the inoculation of my brother and myself against tuberculosis, a lung disease which, in the 19th century had killed about a quarter of the adult population in Europe, and which is thought to have peaked in the United Kingdom around 1950. The Bacillus Calmette-Guerin (BCG) vaccine had been developed by Calmette and Guerin, and the BCG immunisation programme was introduced in the UK in 1953 when it was initially given to children aged 14 when they left school. I can not recall any cases of TB surfacing at Oswestry School. 

To be continued ...