Today was the day of the special dinner for "Old Boys" of the Duke of York’s Royal Military School (DYRMS) who attended the school between 1950 and 1960. The DYRMS was founded in 1801 as a school for the orphans of servicemen who were killed in wars. At that time it was for both boys and girls. Later the school was designated as exclusively for the sons of soldiers.
The school is boarding only and has accommodation for more than 480 pupils. It is a government funded school and, at the time I attended, there were no fees paid by parents. I was able to attend the school because my father served in the British Army for 22 years+ (and because I passed the entrance exam and interview!). There is no doubt in my mind that by attending the school I received an education and opportunity that my parents could never have afforded, and a foundation that has helped throughout my subsequent years in life and business. I know that the majority of those of us who attended the school have great pride in the fact that we did so, and have an affiliation for the school that lasts a lifetime. The dinner coincided with the school’s annual "Grand Day" and the "Trooping the Colour" parade, which takes place at the end of the school year. It was during an Old Boys reunion at the time of the 1964 Grand Day that I met Alison for the first time since I had left in 1960 (remember, she was a housemaster’s daughter). We all know the consequences of that event! In the mid 1990s, the school opened its doors again to the female species (rightly so), although no doubt it created its own challenges in having both sexes in a boarding school! Anyway, the dinner was a great event and we were fortunate that my house (Wolfe) was well represented and that I remembered the majority of the attendees. Alison was greeted by many boys who recognized her (particularly from "Clive" house where her dad was the housemaster) and she knew as many of the Old Boys as I did. The accompanying photographs to these paragraphs will not mean much to the viewers, but they certainly mean a lot to Alison & me. We had a great reunion dinner in a marquee at the Ramada and after dinner, and a rousing rendition by all of the school song "Play Up Dukies", we all headed to the bar for more stories of "old times" and it was 1:30 AM before we retired to bed. Thanks to Peter Godwin for all his hard work in making this great reunion come together.
On Friday after breakfast we drove to St. Margaret’s Bay, which is close to the School and was a 
favorite haunt of Alison and her parents when she was a child. It is a small bay which huge white cliffs at each end and a pebble beach. Noel Coward, the playwright and actor from the 1930s had a house here (that still stands below the cliffs) and it is also quite 
often the landing place of cross channel swimmers from France. There used to be gun emplacements in the cliffs that we were able to walk to, but the entrances to these have long been walled up. On our way back to the Ramada, we stopped by "The Chance Inn", in Guston, which was Pauline Ford’s (nee Ridden?) childhood home (as well as the shop next door) – see Victoria post of the Alaskan cruise. This reminds me that when I told various Clive Old Boys we had seen Mark Ford just a few days before, they all said "you mean Drof", with great amusement (I had forgotten that was his nickname). (Don’t forget to comment on this Mark (Drof!).
The "Old Boys" were asked to be at the school and in position for the Trooping the Colour by 2:00 PM and of course, being products of a military school, we were all there, spick and span and on time! The reviewing officer arrived in his helicopter – Commander-in-Chief Air Command, Air Chief Marshal Sir Clive Loader, KCB OBE ADC FRAeS RAF (impressive you’ll agree), and the ceremony 
began. I took video of a good portion of the parade and it was as impressive as always. We learnt that the pupils do not drill as often as "in our day", when half of the staff members were serving officers and the school was headed by a "Commandant" who had a rank of Colonel or higher. Now there are no serving military people in the school at all, they are all civilians, although the RSM, Bandmaster and a few others are retired military. The school is now run by a civilian Headmaster. In the early days more than 80% of the school leavers went into 
the military, but now it is a much, much lower percentage. What this may mean for the future is anyone’s guess, but was certainly a topic of discussion amongst the Old Boys, both military and non-military. We want the tradition to continue. After the parade was over, we walked over to Clive and Wolfe houses – they are next to each other (each of the eight houses are named after famous 
British military people) and we happened to arrive when this year’s recipient of the "Sword of Honour" was having her picture taken outside of her house (Wolfe of course) and we also learnt that next year she will be "Chief School Prefect" – an honour indeed. At this time, the boys and girls were packing up and leaving for their summer holidays and there were many cars and parents outside all the houses cramming suitcases and assorted bags into cars which 
already seemed too full to actually transport any people. Of course "in our day" we were bussed down to Dover station on Monday morning and sent on various trains with strict instructions as to where to get off and meet our parents. Trains to London had teachers aboard to help the boys get on the correct subsequent 
train for the ongoing journey. To be fair, if parents had a car in the 1950s, it was unlikely that it would be reliable enough for a long journey and of course there were no motorways. After the parade, we drove to "The Swingate", the nearest pub to the school and very popular with the staff (and far too risky for any school boys to go to, but popular with old boys). We met up with Monty Siddons 
and his wife Helen, had afternoon tea (scones, strawberries & clotted cream, and hot tea) and after saying our farewells, we made our way back to the Ramada, where, by good fortune, they had a curry buffet as their evening specialty. We did make a 
quick diversion to Lydden on our way back to the Ramada, so that Alison could take a photograph of her parents' home that they moved to in 1959 when Freddy Page ended his housemastership of Clive (a ten year time limit on serving as housemaster, though Freddy was granted a one year extension). 
He continued to teach at the school until his death in 1972. After the curry dinner, we met Bill Spreadbury and his wife Monica in the bar and reminisced a little more before retiring at a reasonable hour. It had been a wonderful couple of days and we both agreed it had completely met our expectations.
favorite haunt of Alison and her parents when she was a child. It is a small bay which huge white cliffs at each end and a pebble beach. Noel Coward, the playwright and actor from the 1930s had a house here (that still stands below the cliffs) and it is also quite 
often the landing place of cross channel swimmers from France. There used to be gun emplacements in the cliffs that we were able to walk to, but the entrances to these have long been walled up. On our way back to the Ramada, we stopped by "The Chance Inn", in Guston, which was Pauline Ford’s (nee Ridden?) childhood home (as well as the shop next door) – see Victoria post of the Alaskan cruise. This reminds me that when I told various Clive Old Boys we had seen Mark Ford just a few days before, they all said "you mean Drof", with great amusement (I had forgotten that was his nickname). (Don’t forget to comment on this Mark (Drof!).
The "Old Boys" were asked to be at the school and in position for the Trooping the Colour by 2:00 PM and of course, being products of a military school, we were all there, spick and span and on time! The reviewing officer arrived in his helicopter – Commander-in-Chief Air Command, Air Chief Marshal Sir Clive Loader, KCB OBE ADC FRAeS RAF (impressive you’ll agree), and the ceremony 
began. I took video of a good portion of the parade and it was as impressive as always. We learnt that the pupils do not drill as often as "in our day", when half of the staff members were serving officers and the school was headed by a "Commandant" who had a rank of Colonel or higher. Now there are no serving military people in the school at all, they are all civilians, although the RSM, Bandmaster and a few others are retired military. The school is now run by a civilian Headmaster. In the early days more than 80% of the school leavers went into 
the military, but now it is a much, much lower percentage. What this may mean for the future is anyone’s guess, but was certainly a topic of discussion amongst the Old Boys, both military and non-military. We want the tradition to continue. After the parade was over, we walked over to Clive and Wolfe houses – they are next to each other (each of the eight houses are named after famous 
British military people) and we happened to arrive when this year’s recipient of the "Sword of Honour" was having her picture taken outside of her house (Wolfe of course) and we also learnt that next year she will be "Chief School Prefect" – an honour indeed. At this time, the boys and girls were packing up and leaving for their summer holidays and there were many cars and parents outside all the houses cramming suitcases and assorted bags into cars which 
already seemed too full to actually transport any people. Of course "in our day" we were bussed down to Dover station on Monday morning and sent on various trains with strict instructions as to where to get off and meet our parents. Trains to London had teachers aboard to help the boys get on the correct subsequent 
train for the ongoing journey. To be fair, if parents had a car in the 1950s, it was unlikely that it would be reliable enough for a long journey and of course there were no motorways. After the parade, we drove to "The Swingate", the nearest pub to the school and very popular with the staff (and far too risky for any school boys to go to, but popular with old boys). We met up with Monty Siddons 
and his wife Helen, had afternoon tea (scones, strawberries & clotted cream, and hot tea) and after saying our farewells, we made our way back to the Ramada, where, by good fortune, they had a curry buffet as their evening specialty. We did make a 
quick diversion to Lydden on our way back to the Ramada, so that Alison could take a photograph of her parents' home that they moved to in 1959 when Freddy Page ended his housemastership of Clive (a ten year time limit on serving as housemaster, though Freddy was granted a one year extension). 
He continued to teach at the school until his death in 1972. After the curry dinner, we met Bill Spreadbury and his wife Monica in the bar and reminisced a little more before retiring at a reasonable hour. It had been a wonderful couple of days and we both agreed it had completely met our expectations.
2 comments:
what a great post - it actually got me all teary and choked up thinking how emotional it must have all been for you. It's so great you got to do this and to see so many people you both remember. Great photo of the white cliffs - I well remember going to the pebble beach too.
Love, Brookes-Weiss family
Play up Dukies!
Post a Comment