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When I started school in '49 at the tender age of five ,I clearly remember lining up in the school yard in classes and marching into school ,directly to our class room...I can't remember his name but I'm sure he was ex-military,teacher..
Brush cut ,high and white..ram rod straight and could bark at kids across the yard and make them pee them selves from fright...patrolled around the yard while waiting for the enter bell with a wooden pointer under his arm,much the same way as the RSM carries his pace stick.. The method of disciplining kids that he caught unaware by coming up behind them,would have him in jail today..He would grab a pinch of hair ,high on the offenders neck and give it a jerk upward.. He could hang knots on your head faster than you could rub them...with his one center knuckle..he would bring tears to the eyes of kids that were friggin' around,with a quick snap of his fingers to the center of ones forehead..much like one would flick a booger or a fly...one sees stars and tears come to the eye.. I'm sure he was a great teacher,but I know he was a disciplinarian from the old school.. It's too bad that kind of discipline has gone out with modern "Political Correctness"...If we had that man today ,and a million more like him ,running our schools,we would never have a problem with our kids on the street..or any where else.. Later in high school we had a teacher that came from Cape Breton..His whole family worked the coal mines for generations and he told us his story ..He too worked the coal mines after high school..the first in his family to do so.. He saved enough money to go to University and get a teaching degree..and escaped the coal mines forever...Taught us English..He was a huge man..Had to be 6'6" if he wqas an inch..when he stood at the front of the class and read from what ever play we were studying that day,you could only see the odd corner of the book sticking out from his monstrous hands.. IN the late fifties and early 60's we all wore black leather jackets ,of course and although I didn't witness it ,heard that my brother ,a few grades ahead of me was friggin' around in his English class and annoying MR.Big...well sir,..That man covered the distance between them in about two step and had my brother by the shirt/leather jacket/front and pulled him out of his desk and slammed him into the wall...They say my brother had at least three feet clearance between his feet and the floor as he listened to Mr.Bigs voice on full volume,just inches from his face,telling him how he will act in HIS ENGLISH classes... These educators are gone now...and we are the worst for it...bless the hard men that survived the war and came home to teach us the difference between right and wrong... Our Veterans.. Bless 'em all.. ![]() ![]() ![]()
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Alex Blair :remember :support :drunk: |
#2
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What a great idea for a thread Mike!
![]() A lot of us are from a generation where our teachers were WW2 vintage. In my case we had several ex-RAAF types who would even regale us with stories. One of our teachers was the school chaplain who was a Catalina pilot. I caught up with him many years later at a school reunion - he was almost deaf as a result of flying - he told me of a chant he learned doing funeral detail on his second day of flight training at Temora in 1943. This is what they said as they marched the coffin into the graveyard: "I saw him crash, I watched him burn; he held off bank in a gliding turn" There was one exceptional army man in the form of Henry Byron-Moore who was in the mould of Alex's teacher - he taught biology and commanded terrible respect from we students although we also enjoyed him immensely. The biology classroom was on an upper level reached by a steel staircase. Once class had started you could hear latecomers walking up the stairs. Henry would wait behind the door and with a bellow "You're LATE, Matey" ringing in his ear the surprised boy would find himself propelled into the room by his hair. Like you said, this wouldn't happen today, more's the pity. It certainly taught there were consequences to be considered by one's actions.
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Film maker 42 FGT No8 (Aust) remains 42 FGT No9 (Aust) 42 F15 Keith Webb Macleod, Victoria Australia Also Canadian Military Pattern Vehicles group on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/groups/canadianmilitarypattern |
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My wife went to boarding school had an interesting one - a Scottish lady who had been a policewoman (not sure whether she had war service as well but was the right vintage)...
One evening she came into the dormitory pretending to be a dog urinating on the leg of each bed. She was gone the next day without any explanation from the school.
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Film maker 42 FGT No8 (Aust) remains 42 FGT No9 (Aust) 42 F15 Keith Webb Macleod, Victoria Australia Also Canadian Military Pattern Vehicles group on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/groups/canadianmilitarypattern |
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SUNRAY SENDS AND ENDS :remember :support |
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__________________
Film maker 42 FGT No8 (Aust) remains 42 FGT No9 (Aust) 42 F15 Keith Webb Macleod, Victoria Australia Also Canadian Military Pattern Vehicles group on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/groups/canadianmilitarypattern |
#6
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Reading the responses , it is interesting , the different experiences .. those days do shape us .
One teacher at my school, the PE instructor , was verging on being taken away and locked up, he was of German or Dutch heritage , not sure which. Anyway, to give you an example .. we were all given leather cut - offs from a cricket ball factory .. we plaited them together to make skipping ropes ( I've still got mine here ). This guy would pick out three of us , and time us over a minute , skipping ... Now , you had to count how many times you skipped over the minute ... he would then ask one out of the three , "how many skips did you do?" On one occassion my unfortunate classmate got it wrong and MR... laid into him with his leather skipping rope, right across his legs , the soft part, the calves. The poor kid was jumping around in pain , like a western movie scene it was , shooting at someone's feet. The said PE fascist, had a wicked temper .On bad days , he would round up any boy in sight and we went on forced runs around the suburb..in full school uniform.. wearing winter jackets .The boys in front would yell out " You bloody NAZI " . He loved humiliating anyone he thought wasn't good enough.. " go over there" ... then " come back here " to some kid , the kid would walk back and forward a few times . Best thing at high school, the dancing classes with the girls in your class, in the assembly hall.... of course Mr. Neurotic PE man, put a stop to that , when he arrived. I almost had nightmares over this guy each Wednesday night.. the PE classes were on Thursday ... straight after lunch. The Melbourne High Cadet unit , had a bren stolen .. it endup up in Ireland with the IRA .. true story . Mike
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1940 cab 11 C8 1940 Morris-Commercial PU 1941 Morris-Commercial CS8 1940 Chev. 15cwt GS Van ( Aust.) 1942-45 Jeep salad Last edited by Mike K; 15-06-08 at 11:04. Reason: spelling |
#7
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Possibly your old teacher could have been Dutch....A "Nazi" is possible the worst thing that a Dutch person could call any one...even worst that calling them a "Lawyer" or a "politition"...and with very good reason..
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Alex Blair :remember :support :drunk: |
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