Haberdashers' Aske's School, Hampstead and Elstree:

The change in size of school introduced me to a few new facts. In the smaller setting, I was known by everyone and it would have been almost impossible for me just to coast along or to be uninvolved. In a sense, there was nowhere to hide and I was answerable for almost all my actions that were observed.. The new, larger site gave me anonymity and placed very few constrains, restrictions or responsibilities on me. Those that did not know me, the large majority, could not have cared anything about me or what became of me. Early attempts to continue a community like attitude and wider interest in my surroundings were largely unsuccessful and so quickly abandoned.  In my last term, as a sub-prefect, I did try some similar ideas again in the house setting, but with little direct evidence of success, beyond being awarded my House Tie.

I'm not sure how my subjects were arrived at for Haberdashers' but I guess I must have agreed to them. My grades were good enough for a scholarship place but my new Headmaster must have had a limited view of my prospects, because of where I had been before. I think now I was placed into a convenient class that had room to spare, a lower stream doing unusual subjects, mixing Geography, Economics, British Constitution and Maths. I say streamed because other boys around us were always saying how much brighter they were and staff seemed not to contradict their claims. It was seen unlikely we would enhance the reputations of any of their top staff. A later change and free lesson allowed me to take Russian for a while, studying the alphabet and grammar and starting to pick up some words and sayings that came in use not too many years after.  

Being younger and only 5'8" I think these lower expectations were initially also extended to sporting matters. I had to take up rugby, as football was not offered. On my first sports afternoon, I was placed into a 'duffers' game, but then I made 'the tackle'. A beefy, athletic senior, who seemed equally out-of-place, was running straight through all the other players without being touched. I stood in his path and tackled him head-on, maybe not too wise a choice for a novice, but taking him down after having received a hefty uppercut from his right knee, direct to my jaw, as he attempted to plough right over me. I was dazed for a while but the referee or games teacher noticed the play and both he and I were moved the next week into a serious level game, where I stayed the rest of my time. I played sufficiently well enough to continue travelling to other schools for away games in the 2^nd XV, even being awarded my team rugby colours later. I played for the senior house team as well each year. I quickly learned to take a wing position, as my weight was rather pointless in any scrum, after initially playing as a prop forward or general runabout. 

Some of the schools we played were now more interesting because I had entered the British public school world. In fact these schools are private, and the best and most elite of all British schools. My boarding school was small, not too well connected and thus not then a part of this elite. The new one, on the other hand, even though almost all the boys were day pupils, was well connected and derived from one of the Livery Companies of the City of London. The other schools we visited were some of the best and most prestigious in the land, such as Westminster, St. Paul's, Merchant Taylors' and the City of London School. 

None of this overly impressed me although it did serve to make me comfortable in these surroundings and not to suffer feelings of inadequacy in the presence of such people in later life. My fellow students were equally unaffected and as down to earth as I would have wished them. I was part of the main swimming team each summer as well as the rugby teams, that had many away fixtures at other schools. At boarding school, I had been able to take part in all sports and team events, but here you had to choose just one for the winter and another for the summer, and so, regrettably, I could not pursue my talents for cricket, tennis or any other sports, except for a short period trying out field hockey, when it was introduced for the first time. There was no staff interest in gymnastics, although it suited to have me put on exhibitions for parents' days, as the only person who could elegantly and endlessly turn somersaults on their largely unused trampoline.

A memorable occasion each year was the school's Christmas Carol Service. These took place at St. Martin's in the Fields, a magnificent old church in the heart of London's West End, overlooking Trafalgar Square. Seniors took up the balcony that ran right round the back and sides of the aisle, with a grand view over the body of the church. Even though not religious, I was inspired by this setting and the spectacular scene it generated.

I joined the cadet force and was a side drummer in its band. By the 6^th form, it was no longer compulsory but I joined because it seemed worthwhile. This led to some other interesting trips and camps. The band played in a number of contests around London and, on one occasion, we managed to get it all together and won our class. I still have a medal from that day. We were a military marching, drum and bugle band and so often were involved in long street parades as part of contests and took a prominent role in any school based, official celebrations that could utilize the band, the cadet force or a guard of honour on parade. Camps involved manoeuvres and boot camp type situations, where we used rifles with blanks and other military equipment. We had our own on-site rifle range where we used Enfield .22's, and an armoury that was also equipped with Enfield 303's, the British standard issue for both world wars. I stayed in the Army unit although I might have enjoyed the chance to learn to sail or to fly if I had transferred to the other services. 

I once attended a drill course with the Scots Guards for the weekend. I had to travel down to their Gravesend barracks, in uniform and carrying my rifle, using the local trains. Once there, we were drilled and exercised by guardsmen all weekend, but we also got a session on their rifle range and the chance to fire an SLR, the new army issue semi-automatic Self-Loading Rifle. In the evenings, a few of the men told us about mounting the guard at Buckingham Palace, at a time when they were outside the gates, and the things tourists would do and say to them, and of the places that dollar bills and other notes were stuffed by the public. Six months or so later, the palace guards were moved to safety inside the main gates.

On another camp, for a week one summer, we went to Dartmoor and stayed in army barracks near Oakhampton. We went on map reading hikes, overnight camps and bivouacs and rock climbing trips. One evening I went into town with a number of my group and we spent many hours in a pub drinking the local scrumpy cider. This is a rough draught cider with a higher than average punch and alcoholic content. I drank a lot but yet continued to be fully aware of my actions and surroundings. I acted up quite a bit as we took a taxi back to camp, giving the driver a hard time which at least got us there faster. I never was drunk in the normal sense and have never been so since on rare occasions of imbibing. I always seemed to float above the effect of the drink and be totally aware and in control all the same. All these were interesting interludes and made it worthwhile to stay in the cadets, even if  I learned nothing of use militarily or otherwise.

The school was local to my home at first, being called the Hampstead site. This was a rather old, run-down and crowded place in suburbia and the playing fields were two bus rides away, near 5-Ways Corner on the A1 / A41. The main buildings ran alongside Westbere Road and there were three main blocks. The older north wing and centre blocks were linked by an integral bridge that formed an arch over the entranceway. The north wing held the indoor swimming pool with the gym and changing rooms above. The main building housed the Great Hall, mostly used for exams and morning assembly, with a gallery along its length where the seniors took position. Behind that was a series of main classrooms containing all the forms up to the 5^th year. The south wing was a much newer building that was filled with science classrooms and labs. To accommodate the 6^th forms, a set of more modern, prefabricated rooms had been built onto the main playground, that also served as the Cadet Force parade ground. Behind that was a rugby field but it was rarely used for this purpose. Alongside were bike sheds and a set of Fives courts. Other outbuildings housed the Cadet Force stores and rooms, the Armoury and indoor rifle range, and the Tuck Shop together with kitchens and dining rooms.   

Then the second year the whole School moved to a new site and buildings in Hertfordshire, outside of London near Elstree. This was a family framed, odd coincidence. As I later learned, my uncles, who had both been killed in the war with the RAF, over Germany, had attended Aldenham School, a public boarding school linked to the Brewers' Company, between 1928 and 1936, situated within half a mile, down the same small Aldenham Road that now served my new school. They are remembered by a memorial garden and book in the school Chapel, as well, stained glass windows, donated by their father, alongside a doorway in the cloisters of Worcester Cathedral.

The site of a few hundred acres used to be a private estate, with woods and gardens, and an old manor house. A completely new school had been built in the grounds and Aldenham House was retained as the boarders' space and main offices. The building work was not quite finished when we moved in, so it was a bit muddy, noisy and messy for a few months. Although the buildings were new, there were many teething problems, but it was nice to be in the open countryside again. The large Hall led to an integrated area with the indoor swimming pool, well equipped gym and changing rooms. This linked to a chain of classrooms and labs on two levels, that stretched north alongside the Quad, turning west at the Library, then north and east, forming three sides of a square, with the kitchens being the 'centre' of this 'horseshoe', on the ground floor. 

The three sides of this square contained cloakrooms and a series of classrooms, with sets of two rooms that could be combined, with concertina doors between, that were re-used as the dining areas for each of the six houses, mine being the final set and farthest from the Hall. Lunches were then rolled in on heated trolleys direct from the kitchens. The houses were now made to be a centre for everyday life and meant to promote tutoring, with their own staff room attached. A junior school was housed between the Hall and Aldenham House, to the south, in a set of offices built by the BBC during the Second World War; next to that were a set of rooms for the Cadet Force. Extensive playing fields then surrounded the buildings and playgrounds.

Another odd, family coincidence, I learned of recently, related to the mid 40s soon after the war, when my mother worked for the BBC and was often asked to assist their Middle East and Latin American sections in Aldenham House, preparing broadcasts that were transmitted to those regions, live on air. The BBC leased the House and grounds during the war years and until about 1950, after which the site was vacant until Haberdashers' bought the estate in the late 50s.

Dayboys had to be transported to the site by many coaches that picked up at the tube and railway stations within five miles of the site. I went to the end of our local underground line, then boarded the coaches both ends of the day. This meant a longer journey to school but otherwise I liked the new site. A few times when I missed the last coach, I walked the beautiful old,  derelict carriage driveway that still linked the House to the main road, with its local buses, past ornamental gardens, woods and a bridge over the artificial lake. I loved to explore those grounds to see all that they had to offer. The problem was, though, that with scheduled coaches, it was difficult to take part in after hours events and activities and so overall participation was greatly reduced. 

I do remember one particular afternoon when we were playing rugby on a games afternoon. At about 2pm it was estimated that the first Soviet ships would be approaching the American arms and missile embargo line for Cuba in the Atlantic Ocean and it was believed that, if they were challenged, a nuclear war could break out instantly. Although joking about it at the time, we all wondered whether that would be the last day of our short lives. Perhaps because of this scare and similar items in the news, some of the boys began to take an active interest in the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament, but I never felt that seriously about the matter. 

Other than this participation, I settled down to a fairly low key existence, although I got along relatively well with all my peers and made a few close friends eventually. In fact, I recall that I was maybe more active in sports, after hours interests and activities, than were many of my year. We were part of a massive, dayboy exam factory, as a boarder Old Boy accurately described us all later. I found most of my class content to do the least work that would not attract too much attention, and in this at least, I conformed, resulting in passes by all of a non spectacular nature in the ultimate exams. We were all living up to, or was it down to, the long held expectations levelled at us by the high flying staff and other classes in the year, which was a shame.  

In my two years there, few of their highly qualified and respected staff instilled much enthusiasm or real interest in my subjects, nor were I or my classmates identified as worthy of special attention or in need of inspiration that would be well rewarded and gratefully received. I also doubt that Elstree added in any worthwhile way to my real education. All this, I believe was influential in my not wanting to go on to university, plus that I was one year too young for immediate entry and so needed to wait a full year anyway. The grades I achieved were good enough to qualify for normal university entry, but not enough for an Oxbridge or major scholarship, and the thought of four more years of similar boredom, in subjects that appeared of little practical value, at some awful redbrick, were not inviting. I did put in for a six month exchange at a US based school, in fill in, but was not chosen, ending any patience, hope or optimism I had left.

I don't remember any effort made to encourage me to find a university place or even suggest where I might be best suited and what to study. No active advice was offered on career choices either. In our year, a fair number won scholarships to Oxbridge and other respected universities and most went on to some place or other. My class, generally, were thinking of professional goals, such as accountancy, but later I could only find reference to one that became a Chartered Accountant and another who qualified as an architect. Most of them I lost contact with after leaving, and then the few remaining over time. 

Two did make a name for themselves, one friend and classmate as a broadcaster and author, and another in the year as a sharp business leader and takeover specialist. He was the person, when I first joined the school, who picked me out for a boxing session during a dull gym class. Maybe he sensed a novice and so it was simple for him to pound me with a few heavy blows, giving me a nosebleed. He was an experienced boxer, I discovered later, and so maybe this was his starting practice for the tricks he would later perfect in the City of London and New York. I could find few traces of others when, much later, searching the internet. 

I knew, somehow, that I needed to take back personal control of my life, in the absence of any mentor, and to get out into the real world, start doing something proper and worthwhile, plus earn some real money. I had already recognized by then that adults were hopeless when trying to be dishonest with kids, particularly teenagers. We could sense the truth, even when heavily disguised or trying to mask indifference. Luckily, I like to think, I never forgot this basic fact when dealing with young people, including my own kids, in the future. On the other hand, adults that lie to kids will automatically encourage them to start deceiving those same adults; eventually, over time, they grow up and take on the role fulltime. 

I began to start trusting my own instincts. Once I had performed a rationality test and questioning of any particular choice I wanted to follow, I began to experience positive situations, even in the face of the most vocal, adult opposition and advice offered. My confidence in these instincts grew slowly and became well proven. Looking back at my life many years later made me realize that this trust and acceptance was crucial.

This decision on university did not go down well with my mother who had set her heart on my going to college. Even to this day, I do not regret the choice or believe that I would have had a better or more interesting life if I had followed the normal route - probably reading geography or economics, only because of no better options, and then plodded along a predictable path through a bland career. I did return to an interest in,  and study of, economics in later years, finding it by then far more relevant and useful.

In some senses, I now left school with little real preparation for my adult life and still in a stilted existence on the social and emotional fronts. I would have to grow up and mature at my own pace, while going through a usual apprenticeship, with little direct outside influence or assistance. I was independent and self sufficient to such a degree that I could be almost immune to my surroundings and insulated from other people if need be. I only emerged from this self imposable cocoon in my early twenties. I see now that I became comfortable with that state on leaving Kent, and that Elstree did not identify it and encourage me to abandon it.

Footnote: The purchase cost of the Elstree estate plus new school buildings was just half a million pounds. It also reintroduced boarders for two decades, based in Aldenham House. Hamish Adam was one such boarder from 1967 till 1973. He has recently written a very revealing and witty recollection of those days, entitled Confessions of a Boarder - enjoy a great read.