Memories of Milton - Old boys reunion
submitted by Ron Crittal
Dusty Millar
And so to memories of school, some not so pleasant then, but time seems
to have transformed them all to nostalgia. By the way the nickname
"Dusty" was jokingly conferred upon me by a cricket coach when I was in
my last year of Baines School before going to Milton. It is, of course,
a traditional nickname for millers of flour. The nickname stuck once I
got to Milton.
Some of you may recall that my first two years at Milton were as a
boarder in Charter House. Jock Avery, art teacher, was the housemaster.
Break-time sandwiches for boarders had little attraction so I used to
scrounge better fare from the rest of you. Dennis, Ken and Bob may
remember. As boarders our possessions were common property and always
seemed to be missing. Our lives were controlled by bugle calls and
prefects. It was difficult to avoid corporal punishment. No boarder ever
chose doing lines as punishment! We learned to share and suffer in
silence and developed our own peculiar code of ethics.
Whilst I did not enjoy boarding school at the time, with hindsight I
realise that I benefited a great deal by being toughened up as a
boarder. I still experience a degree of nostalgia when I hear last post.
It was sounded every evening at 6pm followed by the dinner call 10
minutes later.
When my parents returned to Bulawayo I rode to school, usually in the
company of John Pugh, passing the Eveline School boarders' crocodiles on
the way. In later years it earned us invitations to their dances.
Cadets was not my way of spending a Saturday morning. Staff Sergeant
Major Erasmus, when drilling our platoon, once asked me why there were
no flies about and then told me it was because my mouth was open. I went
to two cadet camps at Inkomo Barracks. Only those who worked in the
kitchen during the camps will know whether there was any truth in the
rumour that our water was laced with ‘blue stone’.
Filling Balk Jones' coat pockets with fruit peel during history lessons
was more entertaining. So was spreading bird seed on the floor of room
15 for Budgie Boulter. There were some risks involved in the attachment
of an extension cord to go down the trapdoor of room 15 to illuminate
the area below the suspended floor. Someone from the class must have
become an electrician. Ian Pearson perhaps?
The tuck shop was part of the bicycle shed, armoury and room 15 complex.
In those days you could buy square roots, fishes and gob stoppers for a
penny each. Some boarders (not me) were told that the trapdoor in room
15 gave access to the tuck shop. Somehow they managed a successful raid
on its contents. However, their apprehension and punishment was swift.
Apparently they had no place to hide the stolen wares.
I don't remember learning much science from Archell. He often arrived
late. On one such occasion he had the audacity to beat the whole class
with a Bunsen burner tube for making a noise during his absence. He took
pity on Tiki Sandford when he saw the size of his bum.
Some of us used to gather at the Palace Cinema on Friday afternoons. On
one such visit Jim Neill kept flicking the hair of the girl sitting in
front of him. He told her his name was Dusty Millar. She was Barry
Lewis' girlfriend. No need to guess who copped it from Barry Lewis in
the prefects' common room on Monday.
Denis Ladbrook
Form 4, Cambridge, the end of the raft of compulsory general education
subjects, Baulk Jones’ dry sarcasm, and an increasing differentiation
among our peer group, doesn’t seem 50 years ago. The Director of ‘The
Ghost Train’ sent me to Scratchy Batchelor in the hope that I could
acquire a West Country accent, and Quirk tutored Peter Sensky and me
prior to the Mikado, achieving spectacular success with Peter. Some
years later, when as a student at Rhodes I was hitch-hiking back to
Bulawayo, I was delighted when a battered Beetle stopped with Quirk
behind the wheel, giving us a few hours of reminiscing and sharing staff
and student confidences.
Piet Mans’ weekly debrief of Milton’s rugby performance helped me get
through Cambridge Afrikaans. One time before we were to play Plumtree he
had us rehearsing the war-cry:
Ron Crittall
Cycling to school – we all did in those days – involved going through
the bush, over Hillside Road through more bush, where Hillcrest was
eventually to spread below Mater Dei, and along Winnie’s Way. It was
just a dirt track then, but there we were going to Milton and all the
girls cycling to Townsend. Winter mornings it was literally freezing in
the river beds.
School was never my favourite thing or time, but that was probably my
fault. With hindsight which is usually 20/20, it could have been so much
worse. You read a lot these days about bullying problems. I was the
youngest in the class, the skinniest and one of the smallest (until my
growth hormones kicked in), yet I can’t recall being bullied by anyone
in our class. Rather I can remember being shepherded on occasion by
various guardian angels – so I have to say a big thank you to all you
older (!!) boys.
I don’t have any real memories from 1954, but I do remember Form 2 and
Room 15, especially beneath the floor. Others are better qualified to
write about that escapade. John Sandford has some good stories. And if
we can ever find Ian Pearson we can get the full story of tapping the
mains for light down there. That was the year I scored the nickname of
Scone. I think there had been a general thing of calling everyone Skol
or some such, and Scone Ron had a nice ring to it. Also Scone round the
bend, and what’s scone (w)ron(g) with Scone Ron?
I also remember Form 3, where our form room was in that block behind the
gym, and Fly was the break activity of choice.
When was the big polio scare, when assembly, cadet camp and various
sports activities were all cancelled?
Don McLean
Silly things: Squirting each other with Flame tree flower pods,
competing to see who could swing along the row of Jacaranda trees
without touching the ground (while bunking), sitting under the floor of
the bicycle sheds classroom lit by the electrical talents of John
Pearson, eating Flaky bars and gob-stoppers. Skid Kids in the bush and
dust with our stripped-down bikes. All good dirty fun!
Serious things: Getting dorked for some of the above; the great game of
'Fly'- why did it not become a recognised part of athletics - the Triple
jump did!
Seeing Chesworth being carted off to hospital with a broken pelvis
during a rugby game against (I think) Bishops; getting drilled yet again
by Plumtree at cricket (the Pitheys).
Ben Durham
I don't know if it ever struck you who were in my class at Milton, but I
detested school. Thinking back on those times, I think that I was a late
developer (still developing even now!) and didn't take advantage of all
that life offered me. I'll really show my age now and say "Yes, if I
could have my school years again, I'd do things quite differently. I
might work harder (that wouldn't be difficult) and I would certainly
play much harder." But I had my moments:-
* Wearing the hidden gear (imported from a practical joke shop in
Preston, England) which gave me an erectile school tie whenever Queenie
Freeman entered the classroom. (No, I didn't wear it in Hambley's class,
needless to say!). From the same source: itching powder liberally
sprinkled during Jackie Niven's Geography lessons - and stink bombs
gleefully smashed during "Uncle Lionel's" science demonstrations.
* Arriving at school in a disastrous state after trying to cycle along
Winnie's Way and ford the little river, then more like a torrent. I
remember finding that it was easier to pull the wretched bike sideways
through the mud. I think all they could see of me when I eventually
arrived at school were the whites of my eyes.
* Being shown the ropes of becoming a young man about town by JG when we
went to "The Vic" and with much excitement ordering a pink gin! (That
was seen as being exceptionally daring in those days.)
* Smoking the cigar our barber gave all his clients (old and young) at
Christmas time. (I'd had a haircut two weeks before, but the temptation
of a free cigar for the price of another 1/6 or so was too much
temptation.) I think the barber cut three hairs for his full fee from me
that day! And how that cigar smoke oozed under my bedroom door to be
detected by the finely tuned nostrils of my baby sister - who
immediately told "the authorities" - who promptly grounded me.
* The tete-a-tetes with all those wonderful angels in green where the
cycle track to Milton intersected with that leading to Townsend School –
and inevitably being late for school as a result. .....Ah school days!
Casting my mind back to you, my classmates, I regret not having made far
more time for you. I can think of so many of you who would have made
excellent life-long friends - had we remained in fairly close proximity.
However, it's not too late to start some correspondence even now, is it?
Bob Walsh
I can remember sitting in the classroom at the corner of the main
building, listening to a dialogue between dry, sarcastic Jacko Niven and
Peter Sensky.
J: "Sensky what have you got under your desk?"
S: "A book Sir."
J: "What book Sensky?"
S: "A History book, Sir."
J: "What History book, Sensky?"
S: "The Diaries of Madame de Pompadour, Sir."
J: "Why are you reading a book like that now, Sensky?"
S: "To broaden my mind, Sir."
J: "What! Sensky, your mind is already as broad as a sewer."
Well, I thought it was funny.
When we were in the isolated classroom next to the bikesheds, I can
remember, that, as we Afriks students departed for Mnr Mans' classroom,
some of the French 'scholars' used to go under the floorboards. So that
they could squint through a knothole up the skirts of the French teacher
(Madame Sonnabend?). Can you remember Bok Jones' awful perennial pun
from the American War of Independence? “ Well Class, do you think the
Franco/American general said "Keep off de Grasse!"? However, although we
probably all thought that Bok Jones was a bit of a 'date' I get the
impression that we guys know twice as much about history than most
people that I have come across. We must work out which of us got the
greatest number of whacks from Archer's half metre of bunsen tubing.
Apart from the cadets, I enjoyed Milton. I can remember cycling to
school past the site of the Macdonald Club. I seem to remember playing
snooker there with Peter Sensky and Sam Brenner in 6th form. Scone
passed Townsend Girls cycling to school. I passed Convent Girls on my
route. That made mornings a bit nicer. Something that I will always
remember is cycling home in the midday sun after school. On one occasion
it was 108 degrees. And then back again for sports practice after a bit
of homework. We must have been incredibly fit.
On another occasion I can remember cycling home along the Selborne
Avenue Route. No other traffic on the road. Downhill. I put the pedal to
the metal, man. Halfway down the hill and I'm almost supersonic. Well
tonning it then. Now a lady burger(burgeress?) of Suburbs comes from a
side road in her car. She reckons she can get down the hill before me.
She turns down into Selborne but unfortunately misses second gear.
Robert sees his extremely white face reflected in her chrome bumper. He
jams on his only brake, the front brake. The front wheel locked, the
back wheel took a circular trajectory in the vertical plane. Robert
executed a 4 and a half sommersault that would easily have got him 9.98
in the recent Olympics (diving or gymnastics, take your choice). The
dismount was not so classy. The skin from Robert's palms and kneecaps is
probably still imbedded along several metres of that tarred road.
Unfortunately, Hambly never accepted 'No skin on my hands, Sir' as an
excuse for not doing Latin homework.
Remembering this reminds me of the time in 1954 during a PT class when
Peter Sensky ascended to the top of one of the climbing ropes to the
gym. At the top he released his grip ever so slightly and descended
under about 50% control. I guess Hambly was no more sympathetic about
his "No skin on my hands, Sir".
Who else remembers "square-roots" from the tuck shop?
I also remember in 1953 when we were in the classroom next to the gym.
In additional to playing fly in break I think we also used to chin the
bar on some stainless steel pipe construction outside the classroom.
Brian Smeeton
Some memories of Milton and Rhodesia have resurfaced since you first
made contact. Ron, your descriptions of life in Byo in the 1940s and 50s
are sheer nostalgia. Form 2 and life under the floor in Room 15 was like
something from the movie, Animal House. Jim Neil was always the class
clown and a major instigator of trouble. I recollect an afternoon when
he baited Isaac Abramov to distraction and was challenged to a fight. It
took place behind a building - I think it was called the Secondary
School - and was over in a minute with blood oozing from Isaac's nose
(or was it lip). Just shows that you can't believe the old adage that
brain beats brawn - Isaac had both, and still lost.
Isaac and Gus Rabinowitz were much larger than most of us until Form 4
and they played lock in (I think) the under 15's rugby side. Many years
later Gus sadly committed suicide in an hotel in Gatooma or Que Que.
Dave Stephen
Reminiscences of the time –
Crusaders – a Christian fellowship whose membership seemed almost
entirely from Milton.
Balk Jones – fiddling with his spectacle case and stroking his moustache
while sprawled across his desk – especially on one occasion ... we had
been taking dictation in the previous period, and Jones wanted to know
what we had written. Someone read him the last phrase ... moustache
stroked, long pause, then he spoke: “Comma.”
Queenie Freeman – “right, boys, right, settle down ...”
Jack Niven – energetic. Many years I met him again – then he was retired
Professor J. McG. Niven. Same style of teaching – nothing had changed.
Putt Jackson – this was probably after 1954. His bible was Fitzgerald’s
book on Africa. I think he may have assisted in its compilation. One day
Putt walked into the Geography room and announced – “Fitzgerald’s DEAD!”
Instead of commiseration, everyone burst out laughing, and Putt stormed
out in a rage.
Archell – speaking to Dennis Ladbrooke, who sported a big red “Jesus
Saves” button on his blazer: “What does it mean – Jesus saves?”
Ladbrooke: “Well, He does, doesn’t He?”
I did not like Milton. I thought it was a depressing place, where you
sank or swam alone, and prowess at rugby was all-important.
Dennis Stephens
Getting back to Bulawayo----I am sure all of our form remembers my
brother Roy as head boy of the school-----would have been, I think, in
our 1st year, 1951. I have a vivid memory of our whole class being
summoned to the prefects’ common room during “break” because of a rort
(?) in the classroom when a particular teacher had failed to pitch up
for a lesson. I seem to remember that we were throwing paper darts with
broken nibs at each other---has anyone seen a nib in the last 20
years?----and we were caught in the act. We all got summarily judged in
front of the 12 or so prefects and were meted out instant justice by way
of dorkes (?)( pronounce phonetically), in the common room. I always
felt that because brother Roy had to demonstrate impartiality, I got
beaten the hardest, but no doubt everyone felt the same! We were ushered
into that most hallowed room one at a time but the memory is one of
listening to the loud “thwack” as the cane descended on the guy who had
just gone in, and your turn was next!. Ah well-----it made men of us, I
guess.
The tuck shop was a place of interest during break-----and if one was
lucky enough to have a penny to spend this would buy you a nigger ball
or a garish yellow and pink soft spongy thing called a “square root”.
Geoff Fairall
I wonder if anyone remembers those Saturday mornings at Cadets and the
annual train journey to Inkomo, long since discontinued.
Glade Pike
Memories include dancing lessons held at Townsend High School where the
senior Girls partnered Milton senior boys, learning the foxtrot, quick
step, waltz, tango, samba, rumba and LONDON JIVE!(Rock and Roll was on
its way by then).
These lessons assisted my social development and enabled enjoyment of
the School Dances held in the Beit and other school halls and many other
dances, “rock sessions” and formal balls in later life.
Cadet Camp at Inkomo Barracks near Salisbury in the August school
holidays added some pain (route marches), interest (how to find your way
home) and excitement particularly when Milton won the “Best Drill
Platoon” and John Pugh the “Sword of Honour” competitions.
At the same camp I remember Roy Flowerday (ex form 4R) attempting to
arrest Colonel Linden? who was the GOC of all school cadets in Rhodesia.
On this day, cadets were split into small groups of a half a dozen or so
and told to disperse themselves in the countryside and to search for and
capture “Bloody Harry” – a Russian Spy who was attempting to pass
through the area en route to Salisbury. At the same time Colonel Linden
was inspecting the manoeuvres in his smart black Wolseley? motor
vehicle, which was adorned with pennants to indicate that a VIP was
ensconced within. Roy Flowerday set up a road block and brought the
colonel’s vehicle to a halt challenging the occupant with “are you
Bloody Harry? – switch off your engine!” The good colonel later told his
version which claimed that Roy had said “What’s the bloody hurry? –
switch off your engine.” Roy was awarded the “Bayonet of Cheek”!
Graham Broughton
Apart from English, under Freeman, who took the role call and Latin
under Hambly, whom we all feared, one did not have to worry overmuch
about attending other lessons. I remember switching from Afrikaans to
French at one stage as the French mistress had most pleasing “boobs”. I
was always in trouble with my mother for coming home with ink stains on
my trousers as it was the “in thing” for someone to pour the contents of
the inkwell on to your seat just before you sat on it.
Jim Neill
1954 Milton school Bulawayo. Class 4th (Latin, loafers, louts)
Latin the foreign language for the elite – that’s us, isn’t it? Loafers
(that’s me). Louts (that’s what Queenie Freeman called our late-mate
John Eldridge!)
Back to room 6 (7) near Pop Dowling’s office and many renderings of
“Nymphs and shepherds”, readings of Macbeth. As a choir we would have
made a fine collections of “Zambezi-boys”!
S.W. Jones (Frenchie), what a character and “Mr Putt’ Jackson who always
had an eye open for Derek Mitchell-Henry and John Eldridge. “Baulk
Jones” (what do you reckon your books says about that?) and then
Mitchell told him what his book said!
My all-time favourite - guf guf Gifford complete with pins and
“half-jack” in his old Citroen?
John Sandford
Apologies here for errors in times and events, but the re-construction
from the history of 1951 cannot be without a few slip-ups here and
there. This is written from Form 1 to Form IV as I re-call the events of
the past.
FORM IL
Our Family had moved to Bulawayo from Simonstown at the end of the year
1950, joining the big rush to Southern and Northern Rhodesia where big
opportunities were opening up for all.
After being enrolled at Milton Senior, January 1951, we were sorted into
classes. I was to be in Form IL right opposite the Staff Room and next
to the Ablutions. From day one, Algebra was a difficult subject for me,
especially something called “Simultaneous Equations”. I was enrolled as
a Day Boarder, which meant lunch with the full time Boarders from
Pioneer and Charter House, in the school dining room. Then, after a
lunch break, homework in the afternoon done back in IL classroom.
We drift reluctantly into class for our homework session, and there is a
shout and commotion from outside the classroom windows.
Great excitement; It’s a new game they play in South Africa called
‘Bok-Bok’. Fortunately no permanent damage that I ever heard of, but
very sore backs were common place.
As the novelty of Bok-Bok wore off , a new game started, near the end of
Form 1, called “Ramping”. A builders wooden plank was taken and one
brick placed under the end. The would be “Ramp Hero” would charge at the
ramp full speed on his bicycle, and survive the free flight on his bike
from the end of the ramp.
Ramping ends pretty abruptly near the end of Form IL. How do you get
home on your smashed up bike, and how do you account for what happened?
Regarding the classes, there was as I remember, a Music Lesson once per
week, and Bible Scripture, also one lesson per week.
The Music Lesson was in the Main Assembly Hall. Our Music Teacher
brought out his 78 speed wind-up record player, and our lusty out of
tune voices sang “Camptown Races” and “There’s a Tavern in the Town”. I
still have a 78 recording of “There’s a Tavern in the Town”. I lost all
interest in music, with the introduction to Classical music, Chopin,
Haydn, Mozart, Brahms, and all that stuff. Glynn Nixon told me to update
with today’s top music in 1951. Les Paul and Mary Ford, with I think
‘Ivory Rag’, and others by these Artists.
Since there is no examination in Music or Religious Instruction at the
end of the year, then logically, there is no reason to attend any more
of these classes. The best escape was to wonder around the trees on the
Sports Field, with others who had the same feelings as myself. Prefects
became aware of this Bunking of Classes and these escapes terminated at
the end of
Form I.
We are still Junior Juniors at the end of Form I, being hassled by the
Prefects if you lost your Grey Felt Hat, or had it stolen. Never mind ,
- just go to the Lost Property Room, of Students belongings managed by
Latin Teacher Hambly.
“I’ve lost my Hat, Sir.” “Is this one yours?” Out comes a dirty scruffy
hat. “Yes, that’s mine”.! Any hat will do, new or old, clean or dirty,
whether it fits your head size or not!
FORM IIL
True Freedom at last. Room 15 at the Bicycle Sheds.
What could be better?
You could choose Afrikaans or French as a second language study.
With the acute housing shortage in Bulawayo at that time, our family
moved from 19th Avenue Famona, losing contact somewhat with very good
friends, Glynn Nixon and Ron Crittall. We moved to Longford Drive,
Queens Park East, and now made close friends with Ian Pearson, living a
few blocks away. Ian had finished his Primary School, (as I remember),
in Port Elizabeth, and with myself coming from Simonstown, we decided
that it was not necessary for us to attend the Afrikaans classes. It was
just too easy.
It was therefore necessary to find a new hide out, since Prefects were
patrolling the whole school grounds, looking for bunking students. What
better than down the trap door, near the door of Room 15, dark and a bit
dirty, but plenty of space. One afternoon we brought discarded telephone
cable from the yard of a house in Queens Park East, and wired the floor
from the on/off plug above the trap door right through to under the Tuck
Shop with a mains on/off switch in the event of unexpected visitors.
Ian and I searched in vain with portable light in hand, to find a trap
door into the Tuck Shop, but no luck!
Our greatest moment was when the new French lady Teacher started the
class singing a lively French song. We banged violently under the floor
with bricks and wood blocks in time with the music and the singing. At
the end of the song the banging continued and she ran out the classroom
stricken with fear; Was there ghosts in Room 15?
It is with considerable regret we had to say goodbye to Room 15, and
move to a bright relatively new classroom in the block behind the Gym.
Our Family had moved from Queens Park East to our new home in Drayton
Avenue, Woodville. Algebra is still a problem for me, and I have to ride
by bike from Woodville to a University Student in Famona, for extra
lessons on Saturday mornings.
FORM IIIL
Those with Sports abilities were showing their mettle in Heany,
Fairbridge, Birchenough and Borrow houses. Basketball, - If you were a
taller fellow like Dennis Ladbrook you could just drop the ball through
the ring. A shortie like me, - You couldn’t get the ball off the ground!
The new swimming pool had just been completed, we all enjoyed this. Even
the one or two in our class who could not swim. Swimming and Gymnastics
were the best sports for me. Scrimmage in the Gym under Gym Master Watt
was very good. Why can’t there be more Gymnastics and swimming? That is
right up my street.
Most of us competed enthusiastically at break times in “Fly” – Hop, step
and jumping forward to make your footmark next to the one bending down
and swinging your leg over.
Fascinating History lessons from Niven on the American Civil War and War
of Independence, and Science lessons from Leander Riding School owner,
Archell. Never-ending stories of pregnant and sick horses and all events
related to his horses and their Competitions. Made myself a bit
unpopular in his class, sitting at the back and shorting out the lead
cell accumulator batteries with lead pencils. Is there a fire at the
back of the class, with the smoke from the burning pencils?.
At the end of the Form III year, we add up the marks each of us has
scored in the final examination papers. It was my best academic
achievement ever, - came 5th in class. Not there yet with Algebra,
scored 1 mark out of 50,.
FORM IV
No more fun and games. Our classroom moves back to the quadrangle in the
old block just around the corner from where we started in IL. Putt
Jackson is our Geography teacher. He literally puts the fear of the
Devil in to you, if you lose attention for just a bit.
Mans is our very good Afrikaans teacher. Our final year Cambridge set
book is “Somer”, an Afrikaans classic by “Langenhoven”. I sail through
this like a breeze, a real “piece of cake”.
At last I click with Algebra, - no problem at all, - but what a time it
took me to get there!
Latin from Hambly is heavy going. Translating from Latin to English is
great, just to hear the stories - Of how Caesar’s Legions fought against
the Numibians in North Africa. Translating from English to Latin can
take me literally days, to try and get the declensions right.
“Populus Romanus ab omnibus Barbaris terrebat”. “The Roman People were
terrified by all the Barbarians”. I still cannot decide if the correct
declension is terrebat or terrebant.
There is no more time available for this. Glynn Nixon sitting behind me
has completed his translations - I borrow his book and start cribbing it
out just as Hambly enters the class. I carry on cribbing the notes,
totally unaware. There is a violent twist of my ear, as I am dragged to
my feet under Hambly’s very firm hold on my ear
How I wish I could just sail through the translations like Prefect
Dennis Stephens and Peter Rothbart. Would I ever just pass this subject?
For the rest of the year it’s “Noses to the Grind Stone”, for all of us.
Cambridge final exams at year end after all the studying and sweating it
out. The results are out. I have passed Cambridge exam with a
distinction in Afrikaans and a credit in all other subjects, even passed
Latin. Thank goodness it is all over.
Headmaster Downing retires end of this year, 1954, and the new Head will
be Messiter-Tooze. My school days are over.
Over, but with increasing deep regret as the years go by. What a
wonderful 4 years it was. A truly great Rhodesian School, Milton Senior,
with best class mates you could ever wish for. The best totally
dedicated Teachers in all subjects.
Start again in IL, - You bet, - Right now, - Wouldn’t miss it for
anything in the World.
Ken Walshe
My memories of Milton - only good memories and just remember happy
schooling and great sport and many friends. We were very lucky to be
taught and appreciate wonderful discipline - from great teachers like
Hambly and Archer and also the Cadets - we had to be well mannered and
well dressed (Boaters!) in public or else. Fortunate to have the
occasional swim (with Jim Neill) during Freeman's English class.
Peter Rothbart
My favourite activities were tennis and squash. I was very proud to play
on the school rugby team up until Form 4, when I stopped playing rugby.
I was also on the school field hockey team and I still have a photograph
of the team.
I enjoyed the friendship and camaraderie of school. I remember with
great pleasure some of the shenanigans the kids used to get up to such
as smoking under the floorboards of the building near the bicycle shed.
I also remember our beautiful French teacher, (Mrs. Sonnabend) and I
remember my friends gluing mirrors on the tops of their shoes in the
hopes of seeing up her dress. Of course, it never worked! All in all,
good memories of most years, except my 6th year. I stayed on to do A
levels. There were only a few of us and since we had little in the way
of structure, it was a bit of a lonely year compared to the previous
years.
MILTON STAFF 1954
Jerry 'Pop’ Downing Headmaster
FG 'Putt’Jackson Deputy Head “Fairall, Crittall and Stephen!”Geography
Lionel ‘Snake’ Archell Form Master Horses, Leander Riding, General
Science Bunsen burner tubing
Chemistry
NS ‘Queenie’Freeman English “Right chaps, right, right! Settle down.”
Jack Niven Geography & History
L ‘Baulk’ Jones History“Keep off de Grasse.”
Sid ‘Frenchy’ Jones French
FW ‘Scratchy’ Batchelor Maths, Cricket
Piet Mans Afrikaans A cane called ‘Maureen’- she, Rugby bites hard.
WDG 'Wattsie’ Watt PE
Fred Hambly Latin
THE CHANT
Silane!
Silane silane wema kia
Silane baba!
Tina si puma Militon.
THE WAR CRY
GuBuluwayo,
Heeee,
GuBuluwayo,
Heeee,
Enok, Enok, Enok, ayyyyyy,
Enok, Enok, Enok, ayyyyyy,
MILTON!