Recollections of a Student 1948
- John Lingham
I was eight years old when my mother, who was divorced, bundled me on to a steam train at Central Station. I was in my new grey school uniform complete with ASC boater (straw hat), short pants (which I hated), and a envelope pinned to the front of my uniform with instructions to the train guard to make sure I got off at Bathurst. I had not been there before but the train took around six hours to reach my destination.
One I arrived at Bathurst railway station I was met by Mr Bognuda who was the science teacher and was organiser and leader of the school cub pack (Junior Boy Scouts).There was no bus just an old fashioned station wagon known as a “Woody”. On arriving at All Saints College I found I was to share a small dormitory with several other similar aged students in the “Esrom” building opposite the new Headmaster’s apartment. His name was E.C.E. Evans - “Ted” to all and sundry. He was 32 years old from Charleville in Queensland with a wife called Mary and five children, which I thought was an obscene number for a Headmaster to raise at the time. Ted looked OK but I soon learnt that he ruled by enforcing discipline backed up by caning to reinforce any punishment he thought fit to administer. A simple instruction to bend over the desk to receive three to six cuts across the backside. No one liked the punishment but knew the “crimes” we committed were absolved by the punishment.
There were ninety-six boarders in a single sex Church of England boarding school. I soon learnt that being a “new boy” had its downside. I was among the smallest boys in the school. Bullying or “bastardisation” was an ongoing initiation process. How did it affect me? I quickly learnt that I would acquire a nickname (the more derogatory the better).Names such as “Pie Face” given to me by Mr McLean, a teacher of all people, gave way to “Tidy Ted”, my second name was Edwin or Ted. I was anything but tidy with my shirt always out and my socks not pulled up. My other acquired nicknames included “Rabbit” as I used to catch rabbits to sell to the school’s next door neighbour for ten cents each week, our weekly pocket money was the princely sum of twenty cents a week. The last nickname I acquired was “Plover” - based on the fact that Plovers are ground living and make a noise first thing in the morning and do not shut up until late in the evening - a not too subtle reference to the fact that I talked all the time which was basically true. I endured such novel torture such as the “crow peck” which was being stuck on the side of the side of the head with clenched knuckles. It was a sure way to get an instant headache. A “cork leg” which was inflicted by a knee to the upper part of the leg above the knee when you least expected it. The result was a painful temporary paralysis of the leg when you lost balance and rolled around on the ground much to the amusement of the perpetrator and his offsiders. The “Royal Flush” was another delight where two or three fellow students upended you head first down a toilet with a high cistern and flushed you once or twice if you were lucky. They had a “duck pond” located at the back of “Esrom”. It was so slimy that no decent duck would be caught dead in it. The pond was not deep but a humiliation to be tossed in if nothing else with a laughing audience in attendance as usual.
I moved out from “Esrom” into the main dormitories which were to the right and west of the flagpole on the first floor with classrooms below. The odd thing was in 1948 was that there were no windows just tin strips with a wooden border as a barrier against rain and the cold in case any of you forget a Bathurst winter? One of the first thing I remember were the communal showers where everyone was on display whilst showering and subject to every imaginable comment on physical endowment regardless of age to the mirth of the usual pack of hyenas who thrived on others’ discomfit and embarrassment. The whole circus was delegated by the Headmaster through his Deputy, Mr McCleod, a tough old Scotsman who took great delight in corporal punishment probably more so than Ted who seemed to thrive on it. The school population was ruled by the Prefects appointed by the Headmaster by those in the final year of schooling. Below the Prefects were Monitors or provisional Prefects who would in many cases undertake the more questionable forms of discipline like supervising detentions. Detentions were delightful exercises in time wasting, starting with collecting “Bindi Eyes”, a weed growing on the school oval which required ingenuity to remove from the tight packed ground. The Monitors would request the roots on all the plants and for every one missing you had to find another ten. The next detention that was anything but a joy was to use a monster of a concrete cricket roller to prepare the cricket pitch usually at 6am in the morning. Six o’clock in the morning in winter could be quite cold and cricket was not played in winter. The next objection I had was attending Chapel. Twice a day, seven days a week, rain hail or shine. It was a caning offence if you were caught not attending. There was another interesting form of discipline called a “chit”. These chits were issued by teachers and on occasions by Prefects which guaranteed you a trip to the Headmaster’s office for corporal punishment for all sorts of reasons including insubordination or being unruly in class. It was a long walk from the classroom to the Headmaster’s office. We called Ted the “Boss” and we contemplated how many cuts he would inflict or would he listen to reason or let us off on humanitarian reasons with a warning. No such luck. If we knew we were going to be beaten we would have worn swimmers instead of undies. After such a beating our unsympathetic co-students would ask us to drop our trousers and knickers so they could admire Ted’s evenly spaced handiwork and were rather disappointed if blood was not drawn. Of course none of us could cry but I can assure you there was a lot of lip biting before and after each caning.
We had a need to be involved in all school sports. No volunteers. We were conscripted in to Rugby Union, cricket, athletics, swimming and diving when we had access to the Bathurst Olympic Pool. I had the dubious distinction of being able to swim the length of the pool underwater Then there was the Army Cadets and Rifle Shooting. So we were all kept busy and expected to excel academically along the way. All Saints’ College had massive school grounds and of all things a piggery on the land along with a vegetable garden across the Eglinton Road towards the Macquarie River.
We had socialisation in the form of dances with our sister school Marsden. The dances were once a term usually held at All Saints’ College due to the logistics of the occasion. We were told to escort one of the Marsden girls to supper after the dance or face the prospect of fighting over the left over’s after they had finished eating and drinking before us. Marsden girls were aliens. We knew absolutely nothing about girls, how to talk with them and what was expected of us towards them. Sex education in our classes was non existent. For the occasional romance between a Marsden girl and an All Saints’ boy there was no phone contact only letters. We would try to intercept the letters and post them on the school noticeboard for all to see for the ultimate humiliation of whoever was the recipient of the “love letter.”
The interesting privilege we had access to what was called an “Exeat” or “Country Leave”. Basically this was used by boarders to travel by bus to Bathurst on a Saturday morning dressed in school uniform. Three or more would be given an Exeat. The most interesting Exeat was given on a Sunday called Country Leave. This enabled three or more boys and up to six to literally go anywhere in the countryside west of the school grounds. The school would provide a packed lunch and we could go exploring. For some reason property owners in the district tolerated us provided we shut gates as we passed through. As for me it was an opportunity to hunt rabbits in winter and to go bird nesting in the spring, Bird nesting was collecting bird’s eggs of all local species. In my four year career as a “bird nester” I collected 140 different species of bird’s eggs. In today’s more enlightened preservation society I do not think many people collect birds’ eggs. The eggs hopefully were freshly laid and a pin hole was placed in each end of the egg which was then blown clean. I do not think I did much blowing but an awful lot of sucking to clear the contents of each egg. In my final years at All Saints’ College I convinced the Ted Evans that I could design, build stock and maintain a bird aviary of considerable size divided into three sections connected to water pipes that filled the ponds in each section. Along with a few deluded helpers I managed to scrounge all the materials required for the project one way or the other at little of no cost.
I filled the aviary with the help of school friends. I had a Wedge Tailed eagle, three Peregrine falcons including a number of Apostle Birds from Cobar, galahs, cockatoos and smaller parrots. However, this all came to a sudden end on 15th May 1956. I was on school holidays at a place called Ashley which is now a cotton producing area outside of Moree NSW. I had gone there to hunt wild pigs with a 15 year-old friend of mine from Sydney. His mother and my mother were friends and we all went on the trip together. We did not find any pigs but a rusty tin can as a target on a stump. Tragedy strikes fast. I had a .303 military rifle with a hair trigger. I stepped in front of the rifle when the wind caused the target to fall to the ground. I was shot in both legs four and a half inches below the knee at close range.
To sum up, I was flown to Sydney and admitted to St Vincent’s Hospital Darlinghurst. I made front page complete with picture in the “Sydney Morning Herald”. My leg had turned gangrenous and had to be amputated. I was in hospital for six weeks and had letters from almost everyone at All Saints’ College including teachers. Ted told me I was a good candidate to lose a leg as I would adjust to the disability more than most people. The plan was to recover, adjust and recuperate and return to All Saints’ College in the first term of 1957 to finish the Leaving Certificate. However, after missing a full term and three weeks of the final term in 1956 I decided to sit for the Leaving Certificate for the experience if nothing else. I only sat for 5 subjects but was one of only four others in my class to matriculate and qualify for university entry. I never did return as a student to All Saints’ College. This was something I regret to this day as the school was family to me and most of my fellow students as we all had reasons for being there that included rural isolation and family breakdown.
I used to return to Bathurst and also when there were OBU dinners and OBU reunions. However I moved to the Gold Coast and my ability to go to these functions declined. David Coote used to organise and co-ordinate the Sydney events. I do not think anyone followed him with the time and organisational skills and contacts with Old Boys. I still have a number of friends that I keep in contact from what seems a lifetime ago - David Coote, Jock Langlands and Don Cossins to name three.
All Saints’ College has long been a co-educational school following the amalgamation of Marsden. I cannot see the pattern of social behaviour that I knew continuing after the arrival of the first girl. I am concerned that there are no more School Army Cadets. I think they were a great builder of character and discipline. Five of my daughters joined their school cadets. Four were cadet under officers whilst one was a sergeant as she became an exchange student in Japan in Year 11 otherwise all would have attained the rank of cadet under officer. Two of my children attended All Saints’ College - Suzanne and Jamie Lingham. So two generations of Linghams were at the school.
The All Saints’ College I knew in the past has long since evolved into a co-educational college. My recollections over eight years as a student may help preserve and explain how it was in the “good old days” which when compared to today’s students were maybe not that good after all. It was all we knew and we made the most of it.
All Saints’ College produced a number of prominent Australians during my time. These included Sir Dennis Buchannan (Tal Air Member of PNG Parliament), Sir Robert Woods PNG Chief Justice, Gerry Harvey of Harvey Norman, and Harry Watts who was Managing Director of Woolworths Ltd.
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