T H E M AG A Z I N E F O R T H E R E I G AT I A N CO M M U N I T Y
RECOLLECTIONS & MEMORIES RGS: AN EXCELLENT PREPARATION FOR LIFE
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didn’t have lessons on citizenship or even sex education, although I do recall one afternoon with the Biology Master, Mr Horton, in which he did his best to initiate us into the mysteries of girls. Nothing much about the plumbing, mostly about what a very different species they are from men!
A richness of education Looking back at those few years, it is the sheer richness of the education provided at RGS that stays with me. Quite apart from the subjects we studied, there was the musical input of Mr Thompson (who was actually the Woodwork Master!). His most informative music lessons, and the excellent choir that he ran, introduced me to the world of classical music, and for that I remain grateful to this day. I still sometimes find myself singing catches from the oratorios that he trained us to sing in the choir! Then there was the physical side of education. I lived in Horley and cycled the five miles to RGS with my neighbour and friend Malcolm Palmer (RGS 1945-1951). The route included the challenge of Cockshot Hill, as well as the hill up to the school itself, so this gave us a basis of fitness upon which the PE built. Andover did not play rugby and I was not greatly encouraged by what I saw of it at RGS. Mercifully, there was an athletics option that suited my physique. I recall many happy afternoons on
A grounding in problem solving It was ways of thinking that are the most enduring aspects of the Maths and Science training I received at RGS. In Sixth Form, many of the Maths lessons were in the form of problem classes. A problem would be written on the board and all of us, the teacher included, would try to solve it. Applied Maths was taught by ‘Nubby’ Atkinson, a man of less than average stature with a bald head. He would stand at the board, quietly reasoning his way into the problem whilst tapping his pate with a ruler! ‘Happy Jack’ Coupland dealt with Pure Maths; faced with a near-intractable problem his attitude was to laugh at it and declare what fun we would have with it. I found this very positive attitude extremely helpful as it took away my fear of failing and gave me the confidence to strike out on my own in such things, a gift that stood me in good stead in my scientific career. Mr Lewis (Physics) had an MSc in Theoretical Physics: the ease with which he handled the more mathematical aspects of the physics syllabus again contributed to the relish with which I would later approach such things myself. I owe an immense debt of gratitude to these men for the philosophical attitude I absorbed, as much as for the syllabus they covered. Finally, I have the happiest memories of the Air Training Corps (ATC). It was worth working at Morse code and meterological things to get the occasional flight from Merstham Airfield. There was an annual camp at Cranfield at which we went aloft in a Harvard trainer, a Prentice trainer, and an Anson. The latter was a navigational flight in which the windows were covered, and we were expected to plot the course of the aircraft from data issued at intervals. After an hour we were asked the position of the plane. I had it over the Wash. In fact we had been circling the airfield! Thank you RGS for a fantastic start in life!
DAVID ADAMS (RGS 1947-1951) fter WWII, my parents returned to Surrey and I arrived at Reigate Grammar School in 1947. My Father’s employers had moved their London staff to Hampshire during hostilities, therefore, I began my secondary education at Andover Grammar School. Andover used a different numbering scheme to RGS and nobody spotted the difference. Consequently, I was ‘promoted’ by a full year, entering the Fourth Form at RGS instead of the Third. I wondered why I was so far behind the rest of my class! I ended up in form 4C rather than in the ‘A’ stream that I had been in at Andover. This proved a blessing as the A stream majored on arts subjects, whereas the C stream did more science – that was fine by me! Due to the mistake in placing me in the Fourth Form, I was still only 17 when I sat my A Levels. Back then, universities gave preference to ex-servicemen and I could not get a place that year. Thus, I spent an enjoyable third year in Sixth Form.
the sports field which, in those days, was under Reigate Hill, near the railway station. I ran many a cross-country race from there, around the lower parts of Reigate Hill, often with my classmate, Maurice Rogers (RGS 1948-1951). We were given to exploring a bit on these outings and, on one occasion having slightly lost ourselves, returned to the pavilion so late that only the now fuming/ worried Games Master remained. In 1949 there was a PE staffing problem. Our usual teacher vanished and in his place there appeared the awesome figure of Dan – he insisted that we call him Dan. He was an elderly, retired, ex-Navy PT Instructor, heavily built with enormous cauliflower ears, hands the size of dinner plates, and a nose reminiscent of a lump of modelling clay cast aside after several unsuccessful attempts to turn it into a camel! He wore a battered navy-blue trilby and had certainly never seen the inside of an academic institution before. We were in awe of him. His lessons were brilliantly organised and we soon realised that he knew his job like no other PE Master. At the end of each session every muscle ached! He also taught us boxing, inviting us to hit him as hard as we could whilst he defended himself with one gloved hand that he lazily shifted to parry our puny best shots. We loved that man! ‘Sarge’, the Caretaker, was also an ex-serviceman. He ran the firing range in the loft space over the science labs, and taught us how to shoot – just another aspect of an unusually rounded preparation for life. We
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