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 EARLY
IN SEPTEMBER,
1952, Albie was looking forward to his first day at the Paston School in North
Walsham. It had been a long, hot summer, which had given the lad plenty of opportunities
to think of his impending move up to grammar school education and of what the
future would bring. He felt proud to have passed the eleven-plus examination,
and to have been awarded a scholarship, but he still couldn’t help but worry
whether he could live up to his parents’ high expectations of him. Soon,
however, the time for further anxieties was over, as his first day at Paston approached...
THE
MORNING DAWNED
bright and sunny, although there was an autumn tinge to the trees and a definite
chill in the air due, perhaps, to the northeasterly that was blowing in off the
sea. “Let’s
hev a good look at ya, Albie,” said his mother, proudly admiring her son.
“You certainly look the part for your first day, you do an’orl.”
He had to admit, he quite felt like it too! Nanny
Edie gave him the once over as well. “We’re hooly proud on ya,”
she said, clearing the breakfast table, “I wuz tellin’ all on ’em
down at the ‘Army’ how’s yew gotta a skollarship at Parston, so
dorn’t yew let us down, young fella-me-lad!” With
that, Albie shouldered his brand-new leather satchel, cheerily waved his good-byes,
and went out the back door.  “Oh
yes,” he said to himself, “I’ll not let Nanny down, an’ tha’s
a promise!” He thought a lot of Edie and, on occasions, went to the Salvation
Army with her. He quite liked that, with the band and their rousing hymns!
Pausing
at
the corner of Regis Place, where it joins Cliff Road, Albie waited for his friend
Victor Weston, who was also to become a ‘Pastonian’. Victor soon appeared,
running down the hill, from the direction of the Avenue within sight of Beeston
Bump. “Hi,
Victor,” said Albie, “this is it then!” And, with that, they set
off, satchels over their shoulders, and made their way to the railway station
eagerly looking forward to their first day at their new school. Arriving
at Sheringham Station they joined the other boys, already waiting on the platform,
for the arrival of the 7.50am school train to North Walsham. There were girls
there as well, but they kept themselves to themselves, as they were pupils of
the Girls’ High School, also in North Walsham. ALBIE
CATCHES THE SCHOOL TRAIN Soon
the School Train train arrived in the station. It was obvious from its appearance
that it had seen a great many better days. The little 0-6-0 steam engine, affectionately
nicknamed a ‘coffeepot’ by the boys, was venerable to say the least,
and the four carriages it was wheezily attempting to pull were so antiquated that
they appeared to have come from Victorian days! Albie
and Victor, joining the other new boys, began looking for a vacant compartment
at the front of the train. “Boys
t’ the back,” shouted the Guard, impatiently waving his green flag at
them. “Yew Paarston boys hatta go in the larst two carridges – the fust
ones are fur mawthers on’y!” He’d
hardly been a Pastonian a few minutes, thought Albie, and already he’d learnt
the first rule: no fraternization with the girls! What else would he discover
that day, he wondered? “I
dunno, Victor, he moaned, “we went t’ school with the mawthers afore
the hol’dys, so wha’s chearnged?” Their world had changed, it seemed
– but much worse was to come. With
the sound of the door slamming behind them, Albie and Victor joined other boys
in a compartment, who, they were soon to discover, were ‘second- and third-formers’.
The grimy compartment was packed with schoolboys, all bound for the Paston School,
and, as Albie quickly discovered was non-corridor. There would be no way out for
the new boys and, during the journey, how they were to wish for a means of escape! With
much spinning of wheels, all six of them, and much ‘huffing’ and ‘puffing’,
the grimy old tank engine began to move out of the station and Sheringham was
soon fading into the distant trail of black, sulphurous smoke. THE
FIRST-FORMERS ARE IN FOR A SHOCK! “Hello,”
said Albie, breezily, to the other boys in his compartment who were busy finishing
some last-minute homework, “I’m Albie, an’ this is my friend Victor
– we’re both new here.” With this, the oldest in their group looked
up from his books and gave the two new boys a sneering glance.  “First-formers,
eh?” he laughed sarcastically, “never mind, we’ll get to know each
other better after Cromer!” How nice, thought Albie, what a pleasant, friendly
chap; but, if only he knew...
The
school train rumbled over points at the approach to the Runton viaduct, the northern
one of the pair, and, after crossing the high bridge the engine driver began applying
the brakes as the school train approached Cromer Beach Station. After
more pupils had boarded, the train puffed off once more, working harder now up
the steep incline and ever-onwards to North Walsham. Albie, noticing something
of interest, pulled on the leather strap that hung from the compartment door to
lower the window.  “Hey,
Victor,” he suddenly exclaimed, “hev a look at this – we’re
gorn’ into a tunnel!” Sure
enough, with a cloud of sooty, evil-smelling smoke billowing through the open
window, the compartment was plunged into darkness.
“Come
on, lads,” someone shouted as the rain swayed through the dark tunnel, “it’s
time for the Initiation Ceremony!” Albie
felt several pairs of strong eager hands, pinning his arms behind him. As the
train emerged he could see Victor had been similarly restrained. Both new boys
were helpless at the hands of their captors. “You
are now to be ‘initiated’ into the ways of the Paston School!”
declared the ringleader. “And you will receive the “Red Hot Knee Torture!”
With this, Albie’s trouser legs were rolled up and the rough, leather door
strap began to be applied, quite brutally, to his bare knees. This ‘torture’
continued with first one boy, then another, taking turns at smacking Albie’s
knees with the strap until the pain became almost unbearable and his legs were
bright red. At
the same time, over in the other corner, Victor was undergoing his initiation,
too! Was there to be no end to this treatment, they feared? Was it to go on all
the way to North Walsham, and be repeated everyday? What had they let themselves
in for, they wondered?
The train began to slow as it entered Mundesley-On-Sea station and, as suddenly
as it had started, the boys’ initiation torture stopped.  “Phew,”
muttered Albie under his breath, “I’m hooly glad tha’ over!”
Then
the school train set off again, and the luckless pair were to discover they weren’t
out of the woods yet! “Righto,
boys,” called out one of their assailants, “Let’s give ’em
the ‘Pyramid’ now!” With
that, Albie and Victor were prostrated, face down, on the bench seats, with the
slightest movement of their bodies throwing up vast clouds of black dust from
the grubby seating. The other boys then took great delight in climbing on top,
thus forming a gigantic pyramid of bodies from which their torturous activity
took its name. In fact, Albie discovered, it wasn’t too bad being right at
the bottom of the pile of swaying bodies, as at least the seat was fairly soft! With
that, the train pulled into North Walsham Main station and the end of their ‘initiation’
that day, or was it? Let’s hope so, thought Albie, as he and Victor joined
the massed throng of scholars heading up the long tree-lined drive leading to
the Paston School. NEXT:
Things couldn’t get much worse for Albie, or could they? Find out in A
Harsh Regime!
Please sign Albie’s guestbook, or if you wish to contact
me – please email:
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