Amport School Memories

David has tried to remember the names. Can you identify yourself, or fill in any of the missing names ?

Memories of Amport School

(by David Day)

I first arrived at Amport School in the spring of 1947. I was 4.1/2 years old. My older brother Geoffrey disappeared every morning and returned in the afternoons, attending school, which was a total mystery to me, but one that I was unhappily introduced to in that year. We lived at Little Park at that time and had to travel to school by bus; Wilts and Dorset in the morning and Mr Razeys coaches for the return journey. I think the fare was one old penny (1d) each way. We were not the only ones; other children arrived by bus from Grateley, Quarley and other outlying areas.

My first year at the school was not a particularly happy one. I was in the infant's class in a room at the back end of the school and came under the care of my first ever teacher, Mrs Wiltshire. She lived in the Lodge house at the gates of Amport House, and could be a very stern and tempestuous lady. She was known to grab the hair of a pupil who had raised her to wrath and shake the miscreant's head, like a terrier with a rat.

Our Headmistress in those early days was Miss Mather. I remember very little of her as she left shortly after my arrival, except that she allowed the older children to leave the school at playtime. They would scamper off into the woods that lined Keeper's Hill. When it was time to return to lessons she would summon them by ringing the school bell.

Conditions at school were relatively primitive in my early years, though improvements were made later. The only washing facilities we had at first were a stone sink and pump outside the back door. The soap consisted of a two-inch thick slab of dark red carbolic, which was cut from a block about a foot long, by the teacher, with a large kitchen knife. The toilets at the rear of the school buildings were behind a corrugated iron fence, and were simply a long slate tray filled with peat for a urinal, and two earth closets. At the rear the girls had, I suppose something similar.

The classrooms were heated by coke burning stoves, and it was like that until the day I left. Large black Tortoise stoves that were fed with coke from a conical hod that was refilled from the supply kept in a shed at the back. In severe winters these were barely adequate. There were times when it was cold enough for the teacher to allow us to keep our coats on during a lesson. The daily milk supply was put next to the stove in those cold days, to take the chill off. Most of us preferred it cold though. In those days milk was given to children at school, a third of a pint every day. This carried on until Mrs Thatcher put a stop to it, decades later.

School dinners were prepared in the kitchen on the first floor and served up in the classroom. Tablecloths made from oilcloth, in a green plaid pattern came out of the cupboard every day, all rolled up together. After the meal they were wiped clean, rolled up and returned to storage.

There were three cooks or dinner ladies as I recall. I think Mrs Ambrose was the head one, and Mrs Sandilands I also remember. They were very kindly and cheerful people and we were all very fond of them. The food and plates were sent down from the kitchen in a dumb waiter, a rope operated lift, which was unloaded by some of the older children. We were fascinated by this device, and there was a rumour that a boy had actually travelled up to the kitchen and back in it, but I don't know if it was true or who the boy was. The kitchen itself we never saw. The only time I ever went there, up the back stairs, was on the day I left the school and we were allowed to go up and say goodbye to the cooks.

When I moved up into the juniors I came under Miss Isabel Brock. She was a much milder personality, and I began to enjoy the lessons. Miss Brock came from Monxton where her family had a saddler's business. Here we began to learn to write with a pen. This consisted of a wooden stem with a metal socket on the end into which a nib was pushed. When the nib became worn out or broken, the teacher would issue a new one. The ink was made from a powder mixed with water. This was poured into inkwells sunk into a hole in the desktop. We were given blotting paper to get rid of any excess ink. Writing with a pen of this sort took great care, and I think our handwriting benefited from it. The ballpoint pen had not been invented in those days, and certainly would not be allowed in schools until much later.

At this time I recall we had regular visits from the nurse. She would look us up and down, look at our fingernails and poke around in our hair. She performed a service that is sorely missed in today's lice-ridden schools.

These times were just a few brief years after the end of the war, and the countryside was still sprinkled with the detritus of that great conflict. I remember that in the woods on Keeper's Hill there were the remains of an aircraft; a troop-carrying Glider I believe. The cockpit was still there, with the controls and dials; I can remember children playing in it although how it got there or where it went, I know not. At the top of Keeper's Hill was the sports field. Football matches were played there and school sports days. There were a couple of large Plywood and steel box structures that I can only suppose were pontoons of some kind. They too disappeared. The field is now returned to agriculture and a bigger cricket field now exists on the top road.

During the summer months we were allowed to play on the green. The village hut was there then. We used it for nativity plays and prizegiving.

When I went up into the top class, we were under Mrs Reeves; she was the Headmistress. She was very keen on literature and each day ended with reading from a book. She went through a great variety of books in this way. Dr Doolittle was one of her favourites, but we also had classics like Black Beauty, Kidnapped, and Huckleberry Finn. I have read books all my life and am a frequent visitor to the library, and I know this is because of our early stimulation at Amport School.

Another teacher who graced our school at that time was Mr Shields, a Scotsman, who brought football to the school. My abiding memory of him was when he burst into our classroom where Mrs Reeves was in the middle of a lesson, to breathlessly announce that the King had died. He was a great favourite with all of us, especially the boys, to whom he was a breath of fresh air after all the female influence we were subjected to.

Quite a few of our lessons were broadcasts from the BBC for Schools program. I recall Singing Together and Rhythm and Melody; music programmes, but there were history and geography ones too. These came from a large black metal radio, which sat on a shelf beside teacher's desk.

My years at Amport School were, by and large, happy ones. Like a good many other pupils I occasionally got into trouble. In those days corporal punishment was the norm and I am not ashamed to say that I got the cane a time or two. It was swift and painful; a single stroke of the bamboo across the outstretched palm then it was soon forgotten. But it left a deep-seated respect for authority which serves me to this day.