9 June: I suspect that it is sunstroke.

Twitchy about our A levels which would come thick and fast in the second half of term, I had spent much of our caravan holiday lying in the sunshine whilst doing final revision, and, unwittingly, I had succumbed to a touch of sunstroke.

By 11 June the sickness had well and truly taken over my daily life to the extent that I could not keep anything down, and a visit from the doctor confirmed sunstroke and he prescribed several days in bed with immediate effect.

Diary entry for 11 June: I am ordered to bed.

Several days later, feeling slightly better and fed up with just lying in bed, I decided to get up and test the water. Annoyingly, John Tilley had been to see me and had the gall to accuse me of shammiing, which did not help, and the First XI was due to play Whitchurch, a match I did not want to miss. I knew that it would be a tough game because Jack Greves, one of our top bowlers, having strained his bowling arm was not playing, and I just could not afford to let the team down by not taking part in the action. Against the wishes of both Dai Lewis and the Headmaster I decided to play.

Extract from my Diary dated 14 June: After nets practice I decided to play.

15 June: Grevo's omission from the tream proved crucial.

We only just lost the match by the narrowest of margins as a time limit had been imposed on the game. I felt justified for having included  myself in the team by running out one of their opening batsmen for a duck, and by taking a couple of wickets. Had Jack been playing the outcome might have been very different.       

21 June arrived, and amidst all the hustle and bustle of School life our A levels began in earnest. For the next two weeks, including and beyond Speech Day which fell on 1 July, we would be heavily involved in examinations. These took place in the tranquil atmosphere of the Memorial Hall under the watchful eyes of JF Tilley, and as he was handing out my first History paper he whispered to me "Time management, David", knowing my propensity for usage of too many words. I did not find it difficult 

Perhaps, quite fortuitously for us in a way, I am reminded by my Diary that Jack Greves, myself and Dougie Jones were gated for a week by Frankland for fooling about on the road outside the school gates. More time for revision...

21 June, 1960: Gated for one week.

Earlier in the term, and during our exams, I had clashed with Stoker several times as I felt, along with Jack Greves, that he was expecting too much of us helping out with extra curricular duties during a time when we ought to be focussing on our approaching examinations, the most important of our lives to date. I was quite rude to him in the midst of our exams when one day he told me to get a rolling squad together.

Diary entry for 24 May: Busy, busy, busy with cricket matters.

24 June: Clashed with Stoker again over rolling squad matters.

Life at School House was always busy, and to say that there was never a dull moment is no exaggeration. At the beginning of the term our assistant Matron had left, fed up, according to her friend 'Ma' Walton, Headmistress of the Prep Department, with the growing toxic atmosphere at the school, and the authoritarian attitude of Major Frankland. 

From time to time, as I was taking the register round, I would call on Mrs Walton and her assistant in the Prep Department to catch up on all the latest inside gossip, and was not surprised to hear that she had also been considering her own position at the School for similar reasons.

Diary entry for 30 May: News from the Prep Deptartment.

Meanwhile, I was almost daily involved in cricketing duties and at one point I found myself in unfamiliar territory wandering around the nearby hospital having taken a walking wounded boy who had cut his eye playing cricket. Unsurprisingly, daredevil Roger Morgan had found other ways of entertaining himself by testing out, unofficially, the primitive fire escape system which was located next to the window on the wall above my bed in the Senior dormitory. I much preferred to make my unscheduled nighttime sorties from School House via the ground level window overlooking the bike shed, but the more adventurous amongst us preferred the more exciting escape route via the first floor Senior dormitory window on the gable end, furthest on the right, overlooking the playground, and above the dungeons.

27 May: Lost in the hospital.

29 May: Roger Morgan, self appointed Fire Drill Chief.

Senior dorm showing the fire escape equipment attached to the wall.

House matches had been in full swing since 11 June and Oswald won our first game against Holbache before confronting Burnaby on 25 June. I had hit a purple patch in what had been for me a poor season both with bat and ball, and having opened the batting with my brother I was batting along steadily on 25 when Bernard ran me out on my call. We had almost reached 100 together, and I was inwardly fuming at being needlessly run out when so close to an opening stand of a century

25 June: Summary of the Oswald vs. Burnaby match.

Although I was led to believe that it had been a record opening stand, I was not too happy but decided to let Bernard reach his century, a target rarely achieved, before declaring at 167 for 1. Bernard was 103 not out, and we won the match comfortably.

I remember being somewhat miffed at the time because Stoker took Bernard for a celebratory drink at The Welsh Harp on Upper Brook Street, and left me sidelined in disbelief with my tongue hanging out for a beer. I felt, quite rightly, that without my support at the other end of the pitch, Bernard might never have made his century

The Welsh Harp on Upper Brook Street, just a couple of minutes walk from the bottom School gates.

When I admonished Bernard later about the run out, pointing out that it was not the first occasion on which it had happened, he just grinned in his impish way, and quipped that Iris, my girlfriend at the time, must be slowing me down in our trademark dash for a quick single. A knowing giggle between us ended the matter, and all was forgiven.

The Inter-House Cup had evaded Oswald's grasp previously and although I was confident that its award was achievable under our stewardship, only time would tell, and the whole House needed to be made aware of the possibility.

We did, in fact, end up winning the award which I was delighted to accept on behalf of the whole House, and an extract from The Oswestrian magazine outlining details of this and other areas of interest can be seen below.

Extract from School Notes in the Oswestrian, 1960.

From 27 June onwards exams came thick and fast, and I felt quietly confident that I had fared reasonably well. A snapshot of papers I sat over several days can be seen below.

Diary comments for 29 June remind me that this was a rather difficult day under the scrutiny of JF Tilley in the stillness of The Memorial Hall, but nevertheless I remained bullish about the outcome, and continued revision for more exams until the early hours of the morning.

30 June came and went with just one exam about which I sounded rather pragmatic, and with Speech Weekend ahead I was looking forward to a bit of light relief from all our exams and the prospect of playing the Old Oswestrians, a game which I always relished, pitting myself against many old friends and former heros of mine.

30 June: The last exam before Speech Day.

In the next, and perhaps the final episode of this series, I will delve into Speech Weekend and its devastating aftermath more deeply as we approach the end of the Summer Term, 1960, and my final year at Oswestry School.