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I joined Eversley in 1949 with my older brother Paul and our neighbouring farmer friend Roger Blythe. There were about 70 boys, all boarders except for Jeremy Raafe, son of the joint Headmaster (with E.W.C.Heron) and we were taught Maths by Mr Raafe and English by Heron. Geography was taught by a recently de-mobbed chap with shell-shock. We teased him so mercilessly for his affliction that the whole class got a beating by Mr Heron. (four strokes for all, except me, I had three because I was a year younger.
There was one large dormitory sleeping about 20 with a row of about 10 basins across the eastern end, close to where the three (?) loos and two baths were.
Stairs led down to a classroom for about 12 and the large assembly room which was divided off by huge trundling shutters into three other classrooms.
The shutters were open for morning prayers taken by Mr Heron, who played the harmonium. There was also a big wireless on which the older boys could hear "Dick Barton, Special Agent".
Post-war food was not brilliant, but I remember porridge and Radio Malt for breakfast and often fried eggs and fried bread. What we had for lunch escapes my memory now, but tea was always bread and marge in big metal bowls.
The diningroom was below a 5-bed dormitory which at one time I shared with Sneath and three others. One night, after lights-out, we were playing ball with a rolled up sock. I had climbed onto a wardrobe to get the ball back when we heard the measured steel heels of Headmaster Heron. We froze, waiting for him to go past, but no! the door handle turned and in he came!! For some reason the light switch was high up (I showed it to my wife at the centenary in 2003 - still there) and, in turning it, he glanced up and saw me cowering back on the wardrobe roof.
"Well, what's going on here? Come down boy!"
I received four whacks on my pyjama bottoms with my own slippers!!!
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