Newsletter - June 2020

[Rogernoble]

White Star NewsletterNo 14 – June 2020

Dear All
We are now at 114 members (31 March- 113). In researching the hockey article below I stumbled across John Scott, so welcome John. I am also in contact with Andrew Knox and hope to sign him up as number 115. The decision to add letters to the editor / memories of Hillside has certainly livened things up so keep them coming. I would welcome more contributions. I have in this newsletter gone to the British Genealogical site and picked up some old contributions from there. I also have numerous emails from the beginning and will see what I can find there in due course.
Hopefully you are all surviving Corona Virus. I have a feeling of smug self-righteousness as I look at a garage.  I can actually get my car into it and a tidy workshop where I can now find things! Also my Spanish has improved. Interestingly I decided that I would try and master the declination of verbs and started with vivo (I live) and found: vivo, vives, vive, vivimos, vives, viven. Suddenly I had a light bulb moment: amo, amas, amat etc. Perhaps RHRW had not wasted his time drumming Latin into me after all.

The Search
As I explained last quarter we are now struggling to find the remaining people on the “wanted” list so any help you can provide in finding them would be very helpful.

The Website and White Star Magazines
Martin Koranka has revised the web site which should now be much easier to use. You can also pick up the White Stars there as well. I have added all the old newsletters.
www.hillsideschool.org.uk
I have made a huge effort on the web site going through all my old emails loading everything which might be of interest. We now have all the White Stars and newsletters plus a much else so please sign up if you have not already done so. I will shortly also add notes on the guidance of how to put articles on the web site.LunchWe had arranged the bi-annual lunch for Saturday 20th June 2020 but sadly had to cancel. Once Corona virus is no longer an issue we will look at new arrangements. Jon Pedley kindly stepped into the breach and has arranged an experimental Zoom meeting on the day instead.

Memorable school matches

Hillside v Kingston Grammar School 1960
Was we robbed?
I was always aware that the match against Kingston Grammar School was something special. Richard Butler, who has given me considerable help in writing this article, was able to elaborate:“ In the 1950s and 60s I was certainly aware of this school being the best hockey school in the UK, largely because it was the kudos game in comparison to other winter sports, presumably a tradition which was the opposite to most public and grammar schools.The Old Kingstonians Club was one of the strongest in the country and regularly supplied two or three players at least to the England Men’s team, many also being Olympians. This seems to have continued; for example the GB gold medal winning hockey side at the 1988 Seoul Olympics was captained by Richard Dodds who was educated at KGS. Wales also got in on the act as one of the hockey masters at KGS was a Welshman (not the bastard who umpired at Hillside) and he would keep a weather eye open for promising hockey pupils with Welsh parentage. My contemporary in the Wales Schoolboys’ team Trevor Thomas was one such who also played against Hillside”. Anyway to the team and the match:
Hockey – Spring 1960
Hillside v Kingston Grammar School
I think it is best to hand over here to a gentleman who was clearly a very accomplished hockey- player in his own right so I will leave you with Michael Whicker’s “An Appreciation”:“This year’s hockey team must have been the outstanding team in the history of Hillside. I watched and played against it, and even had the privilege of umpiring its last match against Kingston Grammar School Colts. Never before have I met a prep school team that was so sound all round. The

Hockey 1960.jpg

Hockey First Eleven1960
Played 12 – Won 11 – Drew 1           Goals for 101 against 10
Back L to R – R Lorne, J Scott, S Gomis, J Braby, J Peach, C Pringle
Front L to R – A Leonard, R Butler, J Watson (C), J Botting, C Secrett

 statistics themselves will show how successful the team was, but figures are never entirely satisfying.
When I heard the fantastic string of successes week by week, I was amazed and could hardly take it in. But it was no elaboration. I saw one school after another soundly thrashed. The reason, apart from all-round ability, which I have mentioned, was the unfailing accuracy of the forwards. I was warned that when they got the ball they usually scored and the sixty goals scored by Botting resulted entirely from this. With continual regularity he would beat the opposition by speed and, when he reached the circle, strike the ball hard into the corner of the net. It sounds simple enough, but all who have played any amount of the game will know how difficult it is.
The supreme moment of the season came when Hillside played Kingston Grammar School Colts. The school had a reputation unsurpassed in the country and respected by all clubs. That we should take on the Junior Colts side (age under 14 ½) of such a school is incredible, but it was at their request. Fortunately I was there to see it: I am sorry more others were not.
The standard of play was extraordinary. I had just returned from Oxford, where I had been playing and umpiring in the company of county players. Normally standards have to be lowered for prep schools or the whistle would be blowing all the time. Not so in this game. The standard rose so high that the whistle went for technical infringements never considered in the normal run, and it was such a one that deprived the team of victory.
The Kingston defence was very tight, unlike most prep school defences, so Botting was unable to use his individual tactics. However, we had the chance to see how good the insides were. Butler, who usually took second place, came into his own, and with excellent stick work was a continual menace, with his winger Scott. It was from the preparation of these two that Botting’s second goal came.
Finally, with the score even, and not many minutes left to play, Butler picked up the ball about the half way line. He then dribbled at full speed past the Kingston defence, and on the run he hit the ball with a reversed stick hard into the net. As I blew for the goal, I heard the other umpire’s whistle. Apparently a man had been trying to tackle Butler on his right as he hit the ball, and in turning his shoulders for the reverse shot he obstructed.
I had been unable to see this from my side of the field; but it certainly proves the standard of play, for never normally would such a technicality be considered in a prep school game. Still, it was a fine draw, if not a moral victory to Hillside, and was certainly a worthy close to an exceptional season”.
Michael Whicker
More recently Steve Ashforth sent an email recalling the match. Richard Butler gave this illuminating response:
“Steve, it is remarkable that as a comparative youngster you remember the Kingston GS match so well. Some five years later I played in a tournament in which three of their team participated (Carling, Morgan and Trevor Thomas - later full internationals). They remembered clearly that match, largely because they arrived expecting to wallop us but were mightily relieved to scrape a draw. They were mystified as to me why my goal was disallowed. I have been commensurately mystified and mortified ever since! Sic transit Gloria”.
Best regards – Richard Butler
What happened to everyone later in their careers;
Jonathan Botting was selected for the English Schools team and toured Germany with them.
Richard Butler played three matches for the Welsh Schools team at a quadrangular international tournament held in the spring of 1965 at the ICI sports grounds at Northwich in Cheshire. Hockey was then played on grass and the pitches there were superb - almost like billiard tables. He has no mementos other than a team photo (see below). You will see that of the team plus 2 reserves, all but 4 came from English schools. He think they drew with Ireland, beat Scotland and lost to an exceptional England team, ten of whose squad went on to win full caps with several also becoming Olympians. They had an advantage in that prior to the tournament they had played 3 or 4 matches at the Folkestone festival, the most prestigious at the time. The Welsh had only ten minutes practice together at the end of a trial in Cardiff.
 

Welsh team 1965.jpg

Richard goes on to say that in the spring of 1965 he played for Surrey schools at a Counties tournament at Seaford College, Petworth. While there he ran into Chris Pringle (Kent) and John Scott (Sussex). The latter went on to play for St Andrews Combined Colleges and East of Scotland.
All the people I have managed to trace went on to play for their public school First Eleven with several ending up as captain.
Even the second eleven was hiding extraordinary future talent in a young Rupert Jacob who in later years played a major part in Hillside hockey. Richard Butler remember playing for the Cranleigh first eleven against Wellington and being quite surprised to encounter a still young Rupert who had already reached the Wellington first eleven. Clearly a star in the making. Rupert went on to play centre forward for Bristol and played for English schools. He had a trial for the full English international team before missing his chance by going out celebrating the night before rather than the night after!
Another future player in the spectators that day was Steve Ashforth who went on to captain Kent Schools and the South Eastern Counties Schools squad.
What was Rolf Whicker’s contribution to all this. Robin tells me he was a pretty good sportsman himself having played semi pro football. There was clearly something in the genes as, Michael the umpire for the day, just missed on a blue at Oxford and had an army trial during his National Service. Robin was captain of hockey at Hillside but he confessed that he had the dubious distinction of being sent off for raging at the incompetence of his team! Certainly basic skills at all sports were drummed into us and RHRW did manage to foster a belief that we were the best and should go out expecting to win.
In answer to the question “was we robbed” I would suggest that after years with RHRW everyone would all have accepted the result like gentlemen!!

Hillside Culinary delights
With thanks to Lynne Jacob:
“Spent hours reading Rupert's school reports and invoices from Hillside, Wellington College and Barfield along with even a letter from Barfield saying they were re-organising and could only accept day boys (Ed. My parents in Hong Kong received the same letter). Also a letter that Rupert sent to his parents dated 11/3/1962: “We had pancakes on Tuesday for lunch, Mrs Whicker was making them from 11:30 to 1:30 and we had thirds of them. 
On Wednesday we played Branksome Hilders and we won 5-2 and I scored 4 goals. Yesterday it was Mr Whicker’s birthday and in the morning we all gave him our cards. We gave him a set of wine glasses and three months of the Illustrated London News which he likes. In the afternoon we saw a film called Henry V which we have been doing in form.
 Ed: Ah the famous letters home. I am not sure my parents got much more than a commentary on the sports results! 

Literary Corner
I am struggling for copy this month so let us have a change.A couple of years ago we found Des Adeley. He told me he would send me a school photo from the 1950s and the names of, he reckoned of 95% of the boys there. I have to confess I listened to this with a high degree of scepticism (I reckoned I would struggle to remember the names of 20 people in my last photo in 1960). You can imagine my surprise when he was true to his word. I had therefore christened him as the man with the finest memory. Anyway I have now found another person vying for the title. Steve Ashforth has obviously been getting to close to the elephants at his home in Durban and some of their legendary memory has rubbed off on him so:

MEMORIES OF HILLSIDE
Prologue
Recent communications with Roger Noble, and Jon Pedley, have re-kindled memories of my time at Hillside and I determined that I would like to make my own contribution to the HSOB website that Roger has commendably conceived. Here is my effort. It is a very personal account of the Hillside I experienced from 1957 to 1963, of impressions and incidents, some of which came back to me as I was compiling this effort, all these years later. 
We boys called each other by our surnames, as did the staff call us. And for us it was Mr Redman and Mr Coates. I will stick with this naming practice because that is how it was at the time. On a practical note, there were only very few boys whose Christian names I ever knew anyway. I have enjoyed putting this account together, and if it rekindles memories or raises any chuckles from any of my contemporaries, then so much the better.
Dormitories
I arrived at Hillside, just 7 ½, on an Autumn day in 1957 after a one-hour drive with my mother down the A25 from Sevenoaks. Fighting back tears, my mother handed me over to Mr and Mrs Whicker and said good-bye.  I am not sure what upset her more, leaving me or the fact I showed no visible signs of emotion leaving her. I was the only boy at school that day. The other boarders lived closer to Godalming and arrived at school, with the dayboys, the next day.
The dormitory for the first year boarders was called Ajax. At bedtime that first night, Mr Whicker came into Ajax and sat on my bed. I remember asking him what day sports were played, and will never forget his answer “every day from Monday to Saturday”. I could not conceal my joy, because I loved sport, and we got to play only on Wednesdays and Saturdays at my previous school. I went to sleep content. Ajax had four beds. The next day the Parsons twins joined me in Ajax. I think the 4th boy was Spalding.
 After a year the four of us moved up to Nelson, which was adjacent and in the corner of the building. Nelson was much larger with about 12 beds. Nelson housed wordly 2nd and 3rd years. It was in Nelson that I learnt about tempting fate by carrying on discussions after lights- out. This we did every night, and I suppose that we were caught one in three, either by one of the monitors whose dormitory, Rodney, was also adjacent, or one of the masters. Anyone identified, or owning up, got a detention. No way were we going to be silenced.
Our favourite after lights-out pastime was having one of us tell a story. These had to fall into one of three categories: Crime, Ghost or War. My specialisation was ghost stories. My colleagues told me I was adept, but I couldn’t hold a candle to Pedley, the undisputed story-telling king, with his war stories. More specifically, he told of exploits of the RAF. It was from Pedley that I learnt the subtle distinction between a fighter plane (Spitfire) and a bomber (Wellington).
Pedley’s stories were graphic and gripping. Much of his passion and authenticity no doubt came from his father who was a Group Captain during the War. Pedley was a keen fly-fisherman as well and possessed a formidable collection of flies. Even more impressively he owned a 2 2 rifle. We never saw it, but his airgun was used at a stall at one of the monitors’ fetes where we fired across the lower lawn to a target on the edge of The Woods.
It may have been the same fete that Mr Kobylansky offered mystery rides on his scooter.
During my Nelson period, Coverley arrived at Hillside. He was a year older than I. He, together with Kempster, who had his own transistor radio, introduced us to pop music, Adam Faith, Buddy Holly and all. After lights out, Coverley also impressed us with his knowledge of girls and introduced us to some rather lewd songs… ‘ The next time I met her I met her in blue etc etc’.
Coverley must have been no more than 10 at the time.  Very significantly, he was instrumental in making me an avid football fan. He was a Burnley fan. I became a Sheffield Wednesday fan and have followed their results through thick and thin, mainly thin, ever since. I don’t think it was Coverley though who got me onto Wednesday. It was another boy who came later to Hillside, maybe Noble? It was all very strange because all of us were from the south-east, 200 hundred miles from Lancashire and Yorkshire. After Nelson came Norfolk.
My first introduction to Norfolk was unforgettable and unpleasant. One morning before breakfast, while I was still in Nelson, I was in the downstairs corridor when one of the Norfolk boys asked me if I would like to see what was going on in his dormitory. I peered through the door to see many of the boys hurling slippers incessantly at a boy in the corner. I remember the name of the victim and the ringleader. It was the only bullying I ever encountered at Hillside.
Norfolk was the only dormitory downstairs, far away from masters and monitors, and because of this allowed more latitude for misbehaviour. The most obvious example was the opportunity to exit one of the windows and circumnavigate the school building, after lights-out. Only a few of us were inclined to attempt this feat, which would have attracted a very serious sanction, and I am proud to say that I attempted it and succeeded twice. To my knowledge, nobody was ever actually caught during my 6 years at Hillside.Norfolk was the dormitory I most closely associate with a Hillside boarders’ tradition, the end of term Midnight Feast. With the help of some willing day-boys, such as Pozzi, to whom we entrusted our pocket money, we stocked up with drinks, invariably Tizer, pork pies and Smiths Crisps (with salt wrapped in blue paper inside). I have never drunk Tizer before or since, but for me it remains synonymous with the Midnight Feast. The goods were stored under compliant floorboards and at some stage in the middle of the night, probably around 9 30, we arose from our beds, lifted the floorboards, and tucked in.
Another notable aspect of Norfolk was Mr Whicker’s book-reading before lights-out. I greatly enjoyed these sessions. We heard the whole of the first book of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Also one of the Scarlet Pimpernel books. While reading this book, I remember Mr Whicker scoffing as he read out the word ‘literally’ and then making his feelings about its misuse abundantly clear. This misuse continues to this day, and whenever I come across it, I react the way Mr Whicker taught me. In my last year I enjoyed the relative comfort of Rodney.
It was the monitors’ dormitory and monitors dished out detentions rather than received them. In that respect, it was probably my most uneventful year. I had become a true sports fan by then though. I remember opting out one evening from joining the Norfolk boys for Mr Whicker’s book-reading. Instead I tuned in to the Cassius Clay Henry Cooper fight, probably on Kempster’s transistor radio. Our Enery knocked Clay out cold but he was saved by the bell. Then as usual, Enery retired with a cut eye a couple of rounds later.

 Sports
Sport was certainly a very important part of my life at Hillside. On Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday, sport was played after morning break, before lunch. The big days, when matches were played against other schools, were Wednesday and Saturday afternoons.
And I remember those all too frequent occasions that the weather looked likely to threaten any sporting activity, looking out of the window during class praying for an end to the rain. In my early years, watching was particularly special. This was because, apart from the very occasional under-11 match, it was basically only the 1st X1 that played matches against other schools. If it was a home match, every boy not participating went down to the far side of the Bottom Field to yell his support. And could we scream!
 “Two..for..six..eight   Who do we appreciate?  HILLSIDE”.
And then came the Lent term of 1960. What a hockey team, and what a season, thrashing every prep school out of sight! Our talisman was Botting at centre forward, who notched up 60 goals on his own. Time after time he raced away with his exceptional speed, slipping the ball between the legs of the last defender, before firing unerringly into the corner of the goal.
He was ably supported by Butler at inside forward, who would himself have been a record goal-scorer any other time.
Played 12, won 12, and every member of the team got his colours. But that wasn’t the end of it. Word of the team’s exploits had reached as far as Kingston Grammar School (KGS). And so it was that a final match was arranged against the KGS U 14 ½ team, at Hillside.
KGS was then one of the top two or three top hockey schools in the country; their pool of players was probably more than 6 times ours, and they were at least a year older. It was a match I will never forget. I sang myself hoarse on the touchline.
Botting scored twice, one with a strike direct from a roll-in, and with a few minutes to go, the score was 2–2. Butler then broke through; he was forced to the left as he entered the D, but rifled a superb reverse stick shot into the far corner of the net; and we boys went berserk. But it was not to be. Their umpire had detected an infringement no-one else had spotted, and the game ended in a draw.
Botting went on to St Lawrence Ramsgate, another top hockey school, and, as I recall, made the final trial for England Schools a few years later.
Another member of the team was Pringle, who went on to King’s Canterbury, where I went a few years later. Co-incidentally, Pringle was in an all-conquering King’s hockey side, with everyone of the team receiving their colours, in my first year at King’s.
In my last couple of years, I was playing for the first teams, as opposed to watching. The school took a sports blow when it was announced that Keith Parsons and Reynolds were leaving a year early for King Edwards Witley.
They were both excellent sportsmen, and Mr Whicker could barely conceal his feelings. More so when he realised that, as the only hockey colour remaining, he would have to make me captain. He and I had a love-hate relationship, mainly the latter. In the event my hockey team was unbeaten, with one draw. This does not quite tell the whole story, as we played only 4 matches.
For most of the term the ground was covered with a solid 6 inches of snow. After a few weeks, we started cutting out two foot square slabs of snow to try and create a small area of grass to practise on. Unfortunately, the slabs took most of the grass with them. The slabs were so solid we could have built an igloo.  So we had a practice area of sorts.
I remember Michael Whicker, down from Oxford having represented OU Occasionals, helping us with the routines.
I was left wing for the football team, and fairly incompetent. This was the best place for me as I had a strong left foot, and used the other one for standing on. My job was to race down the wing and put in penetrating crosses to Coverley, our centre forward and captain.
We were unbeaten winning 11 out of 12. I didn’t deserve or receive football colours, but I did enjoy one moment of glory on the pitch, albeit a practice game. Mr Whicker had been trying without success to get us to refrain from kicking with the toe of the boot, and rather use the instep, or strike the ball with the laces keeping the knee well over the ball.
I managed on one occasion not only to remember, but also to execute, this latter instruction, sending the ball firmly and unerringly toward Peter Vanderpump in goal. Vanderpump obliged by allowing the ball to slip through his hands and trickle over the goal-line. Mr Whicker blew for the goal and then proceeded to sing my praises to every boy on the pitch.
I was a mediocre cricketer but somehow I got my colours. It was not for batting as my top score was 13. I remember very clearly the only respectable shot I have ever played before or since. It was an on-drive at Lanesborough for which I got two runs.
The highlight of my cricketing career was taking 7 for 16 against Barfield. For several years after leaving school I played social cricket, where I was a fast, and wild, bowler, but I never took more than 4 wickets. At Hillside I was a slow bowler, basically lobbing the ball and hoping it would land on a decent length. Certainly there was no attempt at spinning the ball. The truth is that Barfield was traditionally our weakest sporting opposition, but 7 for 16 is 7 for 16.
That was a home match. I remember the away match against Barfield for a different reason. It was a sunny day, and Manchester United were playing Leicester City in the Cup Final. When I came out to bat, for some reason I decided to take my guard as a left-hander. As the bowler was about to deliver, I smartly reverted to my normal right-handed stance. This caused a great deal of confusion and consternation; Mr Whicker was seriously unamused and I knew I would be seeing him later. Still, it was worth it.
It is interesting to note that these days the ‘reverse sweep’, as it is known, is fairly common in first class cricket. Clearly I was ahead of my time.
In summer there was also athletics. In his years, Botting won all the sprints. In my final year, Goodwill was fastest. Botting was very fast indeed but. But in the only athletics match I can remember at Hillside, he was well outrun by a boy named Dean from Pennthorpe.
And then there was swimming. We would traipse off on Tuesdays in the summer to the pool of an acquaintance of Mr Whicker’s. It was surrounded by a high privet hedge which shielded it from the occasional ray of sun. An unusual event was retrieving as many jar lids from the bottom of the pool as one breath would allow. Peach was very good at this.
There was one other sport at Hillside. A man named Mr Izzard used to coach boxing in The Hut. He was reputed to have once been a professional boxer. I had little interest in boxing, but I do remember a very heavy medicine ball, and that Pedley was seriously good, and frightening.
I was enormously relieved that I was never drawn against him in any inter-house boxing competition. This competition was played out next to the Mulberry tree on the bottom lawn. I formed a low opinion of the sport, retained ever since, as I watched Jacob brutally lay into Pringle one year. When I boxed Fuller, there was a split decision, the only thing the judges (Messrs Whicker and Redman) did agree on was that what they had seen bore no resemblance to boxing.

 Life of a boarder
 I have often wondered how much my 6 years boarding at Hillside helped shape my character, but I do know that I have great memories of my time there, and of the camaraderie we boarders built up. We thought that the day-boys missed out, but then they would say the same of us.
Once school was finished for the day, we were outside playing. Only the worst weather could keep us indoors. Then it was a case of board games. Battleships stays in my memory, but there were also the Waddington games such as Cluedo and Risk, and we even played Canasta. For a little physical exercise, we put up the table tennis table in Form 2. I spent many hours battling it out with Keith Parsons.
 But we loved mucking around outdoors in the magnificent grounds, particularly The Woods. Tree climbing was de rigeur for the boarders. We gave the trees descriptive if not very imaginative names. “The Tallest” at the far side of the Woods was dull to climb, but afforded some bragging rights. The adjacent “Second Tallest” and “Third Tallest”, not even that. By far the most satisfying climb was “The Elm” on the far side of the Top Field. The Elm was next to another elm which was a mere shell as it had been struck by lightning before I arrived at Hillside.
 “The Larch”, in the middle of the Woods, was more challenging and rarely attempted. It required some teamwork in order to get the climber up to the lowest branch. Thereafter there was little to do other than straddle the branch, which was horizontal, and inch along it. The last time I was on this branch I fell off it and was very sick that night.
 Looking back, it is a miracle no-one was ever badly injured while tree-climbing. These days, it would be banned outright, or parents would at least be asked to sign indemnities.
 If we weren’t just mucking around, we were playing a makeshift sport, such as one-a-side football around the goal on the left side of the Bottom Field. We would take it in turns being goalie and centre-forward and carry on until it was too dark to see anything. “I’ll be Reg Matthews” I can remember demanding before my opponent had thought of it. This clearly dates those games to the winter of 1957 because that marked the end of goalkeeper Matthews’ very short international career. The strikers we chose were more enduring – Jimmy Greaves and Johnny Haynes.
Alternatively, maybe out of the football season when there were no goals, or owing to inclement weather, we converted The Hut into an indoor pitch. It was simply done and worked perfectly. All it needed was moving the desks onto the stage and placing some benches on their side to bound either end, with one bench in the centre of each end inverted to serve as a goal. We played with a tennis ball and became very adept at playing one-twos off the sidewall.  It was brilliant. Ask Parsons, Reynolds or Fuller.
 In the summer, makeshift cricket was played at the top of the back drive, with the wicket marked against the wall outside the kitchen. This required enlisting a few more players. The location was not entirely satisfactory because the game was invariably delayed after a decent cover drive while we went off in search of the ball in the laurel bushes.
 If other players were not available, or willing, there was always solo cricket played outside the entrance to the changing rooms. You stood at the bottom of the steps and fired the ball at the broken vent above the steps at the bottom of the wall outside Form 2. Clean bowled was when the ball stayed in the vent. If the ball hit where the wall and the ground met, thereby connecting only once before rebounding and being caught by the bowler, it was out caught. Otherwise one run was scored, or 4 if there was a missfield and the ball reached the garden behind. 
There were two problems with this game. Firstly, we became so adept that the batting side rarely reached double figures before it was all out. Secondly, it was frowned upon by the authorities. A wayward throw, or an unkind bounce, could lead to a broken window, and multiple detentions. 
Sundays were a mixed blessing for the boarders, at least for me. No class was good. No organised sport was bad. Free afternoons were good, but mornings were tiresome. Breakfast was a little dull, instead of butter beans on fried bread (Thursdays) or Marmite on fried bread (Fridays) both of which I loved, Sunday yielded a boiled egg. I think it was the cook’s day off. Food at Hillside was pretty good, infinitely better than the abysmal fare at King’s. 
Before church we had an hour, in form 4, to compose letters to our parents. Letter-writing and being original were not my forte. If I composed 150 of these letters at Hillside, I would guess that all 150 of mine started with the same 9 words. Thereafter, when Botting was in his prime, I told my parents how many goals he had scored that week.
My parents met the Bottings one sports day, and my mother asked Mrs Botting whether they could perhaps swap letters as maybe her son had written something interesting about me. Unlikely.
Then it was time to be escorted down the Drive to Busbridge Parish Church. I was not to know this then, but between Hillside and King’s I had enough of church to last more than one lifetime. The vicar was a plumpish man with a round face. I don’t recall his name, but his deputy was Mr Bellaby.
The sermons were interminable whoever gave them. Apart from the occasional rousing hymn, such as  ‘Onward Christian Soldiers’, the only excitement was wondering whether someone would stand up and give reasons why Miss X and Mr Y should not be joined together in holy matrimony. This would really have livened up proceedings but sadly never happened.
After lunch, we had a rest period on our beds for 30 minutes, as opposed to the normal 10 minutes. In Norfolk we used this to listen to Kempster’s transistor radio and ‘Beyond our Ken/ Round the Horne’. This made us laugh a lot. I well remember “Hello Rodney” “Hello Charles”, not appreciating the undertone. When there was no Kenneth Horne, Kempster tuned in to Radio Luxembourg, Horace Batchelor of Keynsham Bristol et al, for the week’s hits. 
At 2 30 off we went outside for the rest of the afternoon. I have a vague recollection of evening services in the Whickers’ drawing room, before bed, lights-out and talking quietly for as long as we dared. On rare occasions we were invited into the Whickers’ drawing room to watch TV. Most memorable was a football friendly between Wolverhampton Wanderers and some European team. Wolves were a top team then and I think Mr Whicker was a Wolves fan. 
Another great privilege for the boarders also took place in the Whickers’ drawing room and that was the end of term sing-song, in the evening of the last night. I suppose it was just the senior boarders, as I doubt there was room for everyone. Anyway, there we all were, wrapped up in our pyjamas and dressing-gowns, singing with gusto from our dilapidated copies of a dark blue A6 size song-book.  
I remember the songs well: Swanee River, John Brown’s Body, Marching through Georgia. It must have been a US publication. ‘Shenendoah I love your daughter (twice)’ we sang verbatim. There were some English songs though. We used to end with Widdecombe Fair. “Please sir, can I be Peter Gurney” etc. The only given was ‘Arry Awke’ who belonged to Coverley. Two songs which nobody seems to remember these days were the Orderly Song (‘Orderly swish orderly tosh, orderly tea this way, oh who would be an orderly upon an orderly day’) and ‘Boney was a warrior’.
I recently discovered on Google that Boney was Napoleon. How we loved the sing-songs.

 The staff
My teacher in Form 1 was Mrs Condon. I don’t remember anything of the class except it was sometimes extremely cold, and the gas heater was little help. Mrs Condon left a year later and was replaced by Ms Bannister, whom we cheekily referred to as ‘Di’ (among ourselves). 
Mr Coates was our main teacher in Forms 2 and 3. I remember him as a gentle man, despite his imposing frame. Judy, his beloved Labrador, suited him perfectly. He was always happy to buy for me each edition of Charles Buchan’s Football Monthly (introduced to me by Coverley and which I still have) on his visits into town. I also remember him allowing me to use his typewriter in my abortive attempt to produce a school journal.
Mr Coates was the driving force behind the annual school plays. He helped the boys with their own productions, and would always direct a play of his own. In my first year I played the part of Tiny Tim in his 20 minute adaptation of ‘A Christmas Carol’. He had great fun, and caused us great mirth as well, with his productions. One play, set in Russia, consisted of one dreadful pun after another – “Come in and have samovar tea” etc.
In another of his plays, the scene was the inside of a train carriage. Two boys sat facing each other, and just beyond their chairs was a wide board representing the far side of the carriage, with a rectangle cut out for the window. Through this window the audience could see the head, looking sideways, of a porter. The whistle blew, and the porter’s head began to slowly move backwards. Brilliant stuff! The actor was Leonard. 
In one play, something evidently annoyed Morton-Smith (junior) and he went off-script with a clearly audible “f**k off”. All of us, boys, staff and parents alike, pretended not to hear. 
Mr Redman was our maths and science teacher. He was an artist. Every boy remembers his astronomy drawings. He was the school’s Mr Fixit as well. He was in charge of the projector when the boys assembled in the Hut for the annual film showing – (‘The Lavender Hill Mob’ and ‘The Titfield Thunderbolt’ spring to mind). The reel invariably snapped at some stage, but we knew Mr Redman would sort it out. 
I was one of the two or three boarders who signed up for carpentry on Tuesday evenings. Once he and I had agreed on a project, I was not allowed to proceed before Mr Redman had done a meticulous drawing. I was not overly productive. In 5 years I produced a cheeseboard (which I still have), a shoeshine box, and my piece de resistance, a toboggan which was completed a few days before I left Hillside and which I forgot to take home and never saw again. 
Mr Redman was a good teacher and a good man.
 Our French teacher was Mr White who was also the school pianist. He left in my second or third year and I do not have many memories of him. I’m not sure if he had a temper, but at one stage we boys were singing:
 “When White is in a bate, ta ran tara, ta ran tara” .  
This was after the annual visit to the Godalming Amateur Operatic Society’s Gilbert and Sullivan production.
We returned one term, and Mr White was gone and Mr Kobylansky was our new French teacher. I think he was newly from Eastern Europe. We called him ‘Koby’ and he did have a temper. He always wore a black and white check jacket. 
There was a memorable lunchtime on one occasion. I was sitting close to Mr Whicker at the top of the middle table, so it must have been in my last year. Mr Whicker always served the food, and the loaded plates were passed down the table. Mr Kobylansksy used to sit at the end of the table. On this occasion, Mr Kobylansky’s plate came straight back again with the message passed from boy to boy, until it was delivered to Mr Whicker, that Mr Kobylansky would like a bigger helping. Mr Whicker’s reaction was immediate.
 “I cannot stand greed, even among masters” he exclaimed. Mr Kobylansky, face red as a beetroot, stood up and exited the dining-room as we boys watched in silent amazement.
So it was not entirely a surprise that when we returned the following term, we were introduced to Mr Fenton, who was to teach me French for my last two terms at Hillside. Mr Fenton was filling a gap year having just left Dover College. He was much closer in age to us than to the rest of the staff.
As punishment for my misbehaviour none of the other staff masters would have told me to write a 250 word essay on the sex-life of a keyhole. 
Although she taught scripture up to the fourth form, Mrs Whicker otherwise had limited direct contact with us. She oversaw the kitchen and took over the piano playing when Mr White left. Looking back, her principal school role was surely her steady and dutiful support of Mr Whicker. 
Matron was the final staff member I recall, though only sketchily, presumably because I remained fit and healthy. There were though two epidemics, chicken-pox and measles, at school in the late 50s. The school closed down both times with only a few of the boarders remaining in bed at school, and Matron had her work cut out with us.
Remembering Matron brings to mind the following:
 ‘The night they invented champagne, they absolutely knew that Matron was a poo.’ 
This is no reflection whatsoever on Matron, who was a pleasant lady. It is merely to demonstrate the artistic creativity of the 8 year olds at Hillside. (I can be precise about our age because ‘Gigi’ was made in 1958).
Apart from the epidemics, I stayed in the sick-room only once. It was there that I made a discovery: In the sequence 1-squared, 2-squared, 3-squared, 4-squared etc, the difference between successive numbers increases by two. I was sure that this discovery would turn the mathematics world upside-down.

 Detention
Any record of my Hillside memories would be incomplete without a discussion of detentions, which we called ‘DTs’. These were the disciplinary DTs as opposed to the academic DTs. The academic DTs were worth 10 minutes each of revision on a Thursday morning. 
Each disciplinary DT was 15 minutes of staring into space on a Saturday morning, although the total time was frequently, and painfully, commuted. Disciplinary DTs were an integral part of Hillside life, especially for the boarders.
Some boys escaped them (Sales, Vanderpump) but for the rest of us it was a question of how many, not if. For me the principal source of DTs was failing to change from indoor to outdoor shoes, and vice versa. This was a huge inconvenience and waste of 30 seconds, but the staff seemed to take it seriously. Talking after lights-out was another. I suppose I often received DTs for arriving late for class and suchlike, also for using the main staircase. Throwing a ball through a window-pane could earn multiple DTs just like that.
The accumulation of DTs during the week culminated at assembly in The Hut each Saturday morning. The DT roll was the last item on the agenda. By the time the hymn and other announcements were over, and Mr Whicker had distributed the mail across the hut with Frisbee precision, we had some idea of the mood he was in, knowing this could affect our fate. 
Mr Whicker read out the names of each offender followed by his DT total, one by one. I prayed for no more than four but knew I could get away with possibly five or even six on a very good day. Once he had finished reading, the dreaded moment came. Would any of us be told to see him afterwards?
The truth is that on many occasions I was told to see him afterwards.
I trudged slowly up two flights of stairs to Mr Whicker’s study, and waited outside till his voice beckoned me in. There without a word Mr Whicker took hold of his plimsole and whacked my backside, his hand sometimes trembling with anger. The number of smacks was a function of the number of DTs and his level of anger, although it was not a perfect correlation. Athough he didn’t use a cane, when he had finished I walked out gingerly with the palms of my hand on my buttocks, fighting to hold back tears. 
One Saturday I got 10 detentions. This would have been a record but for one boy, Goodwill, who often beat me. He achieved 11 on one occasion, and on another a magnificent 13. This was probably an all-time Hillside record and it will never be beaten. I remain unsure what purpose the whole exercise served. I don’t believe Mr Whicker enjoyed it, and it made no difference to my behaviour, nor Goodwill’s.

 Wiggins
If Mr Whicker appears all over the place in these notes, it is because he was Hillside. His imprint was everywhere, from the cricket pitch which he loved to mow while seated on the built-in chair, to the standards he expected of his staff, to the family and Christian values he instilled in his boys, and to the school’s sporting and academic achievements.
 It was Mr Whicker who introduced us to Gilbert and Sullivan. I can’t listen to their music now without thinking of those performances each year in Godalming, starting with Ruddigore in 1958, then more popular works in the following years. Each year a boy from Hillside played a small part. I remember Pedley one term coming back from rehearsals to Norfolk, late in the evenings. 
He was a headmaster of his times, when corporal punishment was the norm and private schools bred a certain aloofness. We were to have no contact whatsoever with the boys who lived in the Drive (VKs we called them). One day an envelope arrived on my lap at assembly. In it was a Sheffield Wednesday rosette. I put it on at break as Mr Whicker was picking the football sides at the foot of the steps outside the dining-room. He stopped when he saw me. “Take that off. Hillside boys do not wear football rosettes”.
Despite my run-ins with Mr Whicker, in between them my misdemeanours were forgotten (mostly) and I never resented him. He clearly was very fond of all of his boys. I got to know him best in my last year, when I was a monitor. He was the Form 5 master, and our classroom was the dining-room. There were only the 4 of us boys, Sales who was top of the class, Vanderpump, Pedley and I.
Mr Whicker taught us English, history, Latin, Greek and scripture. He was a very good teacher, especially the classics. Woe betide any boy who forgot stock impots like: 
There are NO prepositions before the names of towns, small islands, domus and rus. 
In my first year at King’s, I used ‘remnatus sum’ as the perfect tense of ‘reminiscor’. My teacher, Lanky Miller, told me that verb did not have a perfect tense. When I insisted that my Latin master at prep school had taught me this, he double-checked and told me there was no record to be found of ‘remnatus’. To this day I have wondered whether Mr Whicker or Lanky was right, or possibly I created the word myself. I am sure that Sales could resolve this for me.
Being monitors meant sitting next to Mr Whicker at the end of the middle dining room table at lunch-time. I have fond memories of the conversations with him, and the word games we played, especially Nebuchadnezzar.
Under Mr Whicker’s leadership, Hillside had an impressive academic and sports record. Academically the school consistently got boys through to their chosen senior schools, and the honours board in Form 4 listed several boys who had won scholarships. In my last year, Sales would have been added to that list with his scholarship to Canford. 
On the sports field the school’s achievements spoke for themselves. The 1959/60 and 1962/63 football and hockey teams together must have won 90% of their matches. This success would have been extraordinary, all things being equal. But they weren’t equal. Hillside was much smaller, sometimes very much smaller, than all of the schools it competed against.

 Epilogue
After I left Hillside, and my toboggan, I had very little contact with the school. 
In my last year at King’s, we played Dover College. I was centre-half and Jac Fuller was their centreforward. He was a handful but we won 1-0. That same year I went to watch the Rosslyn Park Schools Sevens and met up with Michael Coverley. He was the King’s Taunton fly-half and captain. 
Mr Whicker wrote to me a few times, and asked me if I would like to work at the school for a term or two before I went to university, but I had already decided to work at another prep school closer to home.
On one visit to England I travelled to Godalming hoping to find Mr Coates. He was out, but I left a note and a few weeks later received a delightful letter from him. Then I drove along the Drive but sadly all I saw was a row of houses where Hillside must once have been. 
A few years ago I astonishingly came across Jon Pedley here in South Africa. He was Dean of the University of Cape Town School of Business. He is currently the Dean of the Henley Business School Africa, based in Johannesburg. I really need to catch up with him again and reminisce some more about Hillside. If I am lucky maybe he will tell me a war story. (Ed; the subsequent meeting is on the web site) 

Steve Ashforth – Durban October 2017

 For the future: I understand Harvey White’s memoirs are on the stocks, which will include reference to his time at Hillside. Any stories will be much appreciated. A review will appear as soon as publication occurs.

 Letters to the editor
Dear Roger,
Congratulations on a splendid new issue!  I am particularly taken with the acutely nostalgic photo of the little wood bordering the lower lawn.  I remember foregathering with pals in the heart of the bamboo thicket during freezing cold breaks.  Someone had the brilliant idea of introducing central heating to the little grove.  We filled empty lemonade bottles with lukewarm water (the hottest the bathroom taps could provide), and convinced ourselves that we felt a BIT warmer!Beyond the bamboos in the photo was the site of the battle of Edgehill, fought with bamboo rapiers from the grove.
Best wishes,
Nikolai
Thank you, Roger - good to have such material to take us out of ourselves when we're shut in on ourselves. On reflection, boarding school is a kind of group isolation: the world beyond the fence is strictly 'out of bounds' - not that we ever really had any hankering to be there.Best wishes,
imon Watson
Dear Roger, Many thanks for your recent newsletter which I read with enjoyment, as usual. It has prompted two emails for you.This is the first and I attach photographs of Hillside in 1972 just before the site was cleared for the housing estate which now render it unrecognisable.  I had not really been in Guildford since 1963 but on one occasion when I was back my mother told me that the buildings were about to be cleared so we went over there to have a look. Hence the pictures. It had really changed very little in the grounds since I had left in 1958.  Crownpits House was a rather fine building and the wisteria in bloom magnificent. The second email I will send after this relates to Patrick O'Brian. In 2015 my wife and with another couple walked from Collioure down the coast to Cadaques. It was a lovely walk but quite hot that summer. I had visited Collioure as a child but not since but comparing my pictures with those taken by my father in 1952 there had been little major change around the port.
I can well imagine Patrick O'Brian wanting to make the area his home.
 With best wishes, 
Alastair Chalmers 

 
 Dear Roger
My time at Hillside (and Canford after) is pretty much a blur, though somewhere I still have those Sunday letters sent home to parents, the very first ever (around 3 lines) said "Please send me catpult", the censor had picked this up for both content and spelling and added "I don't think this is a very good idea". So at some time, somebody must have had catapults, heaven forbid! Think I even ended up as head boy for a term which did not please Mr Whicker much, for whom scraping the barrel for candidates was possibly a bit humiliating given his high standards.
Michael Hand

Dear Michael
Thanks for your email.I did possess a catapult although my mate Nick Pedley was undoubtedly the ace big game hunter when it came to bagging grey squirrels for the shilling a tail bounty. I certainly remembers going to his house near Guildford and going to the woods hunting with his air rifle. I did however manage one brilliant shot at Hillside. I saw a squirrel perched on a fence post. I loaded my catapult with an acorn and let rip from about 40 yards. To my surprise I hit it plumb on the head the head and I collected my shilling.

RogerPal’s corner

Jack Fuller has now located ten of the 1963 hockey team, but he is still anxious to locate Jonathan (?) Weale to get the full team. Can anyone help? A possible clue is that his father owned the bicycle shop in Godalming.
Colin & Keith Parsons – I have had reports of their playing golf in Surrey. I think Jack played against them once. They went on to Kings Witley and their brother played cricket for Surrey. Can anyone help?
We have also accounted for nine of the 1960 football team. Can anyone help on Tim Gibbs and P Sutton?
This is a regular feature for those looking for old friends so please let me know if there is anyone you would particularly like to trace. 

Roger Noble
roger.noble@btopenworld.com