In reality, and on reflection now, I have concluded there was never a typical day for boys at Oswestry School, as life for each individual was different depending on his interests and daily movements. However there were events experienced in common by all the boys and I would like to mention a few of them.

For example, at the end of breakfast it was time for the distribution of mail and parcels for those lucky enough to receive them, and my brother and I always looked forward with eager anticipation to receiving our weekly food parcel from home, and rolled up copies of popular comics of the day from our favorite uncle.

My friend and contemporary John Robbie still has his old tuck box, as seen here, typical of those in use at School.

Food was destined for tuck boxes housed in the multi purpose room adjacent to the Dining Hall, and this allocation of parcels did not go unnoticed by a group of older boys I later dubbed the " Tuck Room Terrorists " who made a mental note of recipients, particularly if they were more vulnerable juniors. 

After breakfast my brother and I would suddenly become very popular with other juniors in School House as we unfurled our copies of Beano and Dandy on the Library table for everyone to catch up with the antics of Desperate Dan, Dennis the Menace, and the other larger than life characters who lived out their lives on the pages of these popular comics. 

Our shrewd and wily Headmaster, Ralph Williamson, hit on the bright idea of encouraging boys to supplement their evening meal with food of their own choice. Each Wednesday and Saturday morning we would bring into breakfast a tin of something with our name written on that could be heated up in the cavernous kitchens below the Dining Room and brought up to the hatch in the corner of the room at tea time, from where it would be collected by the boy on duty at each table. It could then be consumed alongside the large chunks of freshly baked bread and butter, aptly named " bricks " by the boys in School House.

The hatch is out of sight in the corner of the room, behind and to the right of the camera man 

The gang of bandits I named Tuck Room Terrorists took up residence in the tuck room, and were at their most active and dangerous between the end of afternoon lessons and tea time. It was there that they lay in wait to prey on any unsuspecting youngster who happened to pay a visit to the room, and they would shamelessly extort payment in kind before allowing him access to anything in his tuck box.

I had learned from bitter experience as a very young junior to steer clear of their territory at this time, and I also became very adept at disappearing from sight of the emissaries they dispatched in search of more victims of their banditry. 

In all this time, even as older juniors moving up into the Senior dorm, not one of us had the strength of character to report this behaviour to Stoker Lewis, our House Master for fear of reprisals later in the dormitory after lights out. It was deemed less problematic and certainly less painful to accept the reality of the situation and learn from the experience rather than risk of having to " run the gauntlet " later in the dead of night.

 Running the gauntlet was a punishment meted out by a group of older boys in the dormitory late at night, which involved travelling the length of the Senior dormitory along one side of the row of washbasins and back down the other side of the room as boys, stationed at the end of their beds waited to greet you with pillows or more painful weapons. You soon discovered who your friends were.

The site of " the gauntlet " as viewed from the entrance to the dormitory at the top of the stone staircase.

After tea there was a short break until it was time for us all to settle down for a couple of hours with homework, or " Prep " as it was known, under the supervision of John Tilley or a Senior Prefect. This always took place in Forms IVB and V, the site of the current School Library, where a picture of The Laughing Cavalier, very appropriately, hung on the wall,  No wonder the Cavalier found it amusing, as repeatedly gallant efforts by one of the juniors to master " chopsticks "in the tuck room were hilariously funny.

The tuck room, which was home to a large piano, also doubled up as the music room, and  Mr Calvert, School organist, snuff- taker, and music teacher, often used this time of the day to give those with a musical bent instruction in the finer art of piano playing. As we beavered away at our homework we could often tell who was tinkling on the ivories by their unique signature tune, which would come wafting along the long corridor.

As a matter of interest it is worth pointing out that because of its proximity to the main Dining Hall used solely by boarders, this multi - purpose room was also geared up as a temporary dining room for day boys who opted to stay for lunch.Trestle tables were hastily assembled under the direction of JF Tilley and lunches were served alongside those being distributed inside the main Hall.

At the end of " Prep " all the juniors gathered in the Dining Room for a warm drink, a biscuit, and a gossip about events of the day, before making their way up the stone staircase to the dormitories where bathtime awaited them.

On a nightly basis twenty or so juniors had to take turns in batches of three, in rotation round the dormitory, to enjoy the luxury of a single occupancy of one of the three freestanding antiquated, enamelled steel bathtubs like the one pictured below 

Bathtubs, typical of those in use at Oswestry School in the 1940s / 1950s.

 I say the word luxury advisedly, as I understand on good authority that boys during and after the war in the 1940s, were sometimes obliged to double up toe to toe in these capacious bathtubs, presumably to conserve water and energy in times of austerity. 

Suitably cleansed and refreshed after their ablutions, everyone wandered back into the dormitory to receive a nightly spoonful of liquid malt, popular after the war as a dietary supplement, before taking to their beds for the night.

Finally, and sanctioned by Housemaster Stoker Lewis, it became customary in the Junior Dormitory for boys in turn to give five or so minutes of their time after lights out to entertain the rest of the dormitory with a story of some sort before finally settling down to sleep! No chance of that ever happening!

In fact, the minute Stoker, the duty Master, left the dormitory to go and deal with other business, one of the boys nearest to the remaining gas lamp, situated on the wall next to Matron's room, would quickly apply a match to the gas and the lamp lit up with a Whooshing sound.  Accompanied  by a loud hissing noise, the lamp produced an eerie glow in the darkened room  ..... a perfect setting for a chilling tale. 

Once a look-out had been posted to warn of any approaching Master, storytime would begin. The one night rule for telling stories was not always observed, and the more interesting story tellers would be persuaded to return for another night. Before long the noise of approaching footsteps on the stone staircase was the signal to shut down the unauthorised use of the gas lamp. 

In due course the last batch of Seniors would arrive upstairs, often to discover a complete absence of hot water, not helped by profligate earlier use of the supply, coupled with an aging boiler trying to cope with demands it could no longer meet. This was an ongoing problem during the 1950s, and an entry in my Diary (extract above) from 1960 reminds me that I suffered from this in my time as a senior, and had reason to complain to Stoker Lewis about this on more than one occasion, with varying degrees of success. 

There was no storytelling late at night in the Senior Dormitory, but there was certainly life after lights out, aided by a proliferation of powerful torches. AE " Baldy " Williams, the boffin from Bishop's Castle, seen below tinkering with his model railway system, was a bit of a wizard with wiring, and from his bed directly above the Masters' common room he set up a radio station for a network of late night listeners.

AE Williams, right in the newspaper cutting, weaving his magic.

Completely unknown to, and never discovered by teaching staff, " Baldy " rigged up a wiring system in the dormitory along the skirting boards. Interspersed at intervals behind each bed were screws to which headphones could be attached, enabling boys to tune in at random to non - stop rock and pop music played by popular D J  Jack Jackson and others on Radio Luxembourg.

    The Jack Jackson show on Radio Luxembourg

Whilst I realise that bullying should not be tolerated, there is no point in denying that it took place at Oswestry School during the 1950s, and I suspect that for most of my contemporaries, as with myself, it did little to detract from our overall boarding experience. 

In my next article I would like to talk about Sundays, perhaps my most favorite and relaxing day of the week.

The END.