Whether it was my first or second day at school I cannot remember, but I do know that it seemed a tragic start to have one's youthful dreams of making a good impression dashed to the ground by being hauled to the presence of the Rev. Headmaster - Fr. Cuthbert Smith. How he managed to break that ruler over my head I shall never know - he seemed so gentle. In all fairness I was defending my rights to stand still in lines from certain buffetings in the rear! I believe I took comfort in the fact that we had TOM BROWN at school with us.

We numbered about a 100 boys divided into the Houses of Francis and Gabriel. Division into Houses did not mean divided loyalties - especially when it came to trespassing on Brother Trudo's domain. (That was 30 years ago, but the good Brother has not changed a bit.) He was always troubled by his chickens showing signs of a desire for a Grammar school education. This compulsory education was imposed by the boys, who drove the chickens into the playground. Nowadays boys drag red herrings into class; our chickens were just as effective. It often took a whole class period to re-collect the brood. How golden pears disappeared into green pockets was one puzzle he never solved!

There was also the tale of the tin cans on the tail of a cat, which cat broke the sound barrier around the school buildings. Hearsay perhaps but catastrophic! There were the higher pursuits of soap-box oratory (have we an old boy as an M.P. yet?) during the long dinner break of 2 hours. Marvellous isn' it? Yes, but we had school every Saturday morning. Cricket balls seem to have a mind of their own at times and the ball which hit Mr. McCue was no exception. It left the bat and sailed straight for poor Mr. McCue's head. But not a cheer went up. We had a healthy respect for our masters and a great admiration. I am sure that I speak for all when I commend their untiring efforts on our behalf.

There were Frs., Cuthbert; Aidan (with his wonderfully absorbing stories) Ignatius, who remains as always with his very 'uplifting' ways in class; Mr. Rose (Pop); G. F. Seaward ("Seaweed" - still at the Cathedral of the Blessed Sacrament in Christchurch, New Zealand), B. N. Wilson, J. McCue . . . all of 1931 vintage and before. They were joined in the years that followed by Fr. Peter, Mr. Wakeford, Mr. Long (the late Fr. Paulinus), G. Hickey, I. O'Gorman, Mr. Ingram (now the Very Rev. Fr. Anthony).

Our Sports day was held in the field converted since into the present playground. Records were broken even then, but the track was only a lap of 200 yards with one side a down slope and the other an up slope, and a shocking number of corners in between. We lacked field events but we all thoroughly enjoyed the day and the customary day's holiday beneficently bestowed by the V.I.P. who gave out the prizes. He was always supposed to have “got around” the stony heart of the Headmaster. I am sure that the staff was equally delighted with this small blessing.

The proximity of the Sacred Heart Convent has led to many hours of permanent friendship between pupils from both sides of the road, as my wife will confirm. And why not? The Salvatorian College is a grand school; it was a grand little school in 1931; there was a spirit and determination to succeed and the evidence of that determination is to be seen in the new school of today. But the spirit will go on to even greater heights while still retaining something of that family spirit by which we were first surrounded by being taken, literally, into the heart of the Salvatorian family.

Obviously most of us disliked school at one time or another, but whenever Old Salvatorians meet you would never think so. Not only do we foster the friendships made at school and increase them through the Association - we have evident proof of the depth of that friendship - the friendship by which a man may lay down his life for his friend, in the number of Old Salvatorians who gave their all in the 1939-1945 war. If these could give us their recollections we would have to take extra coverage, but we shall place them in honour here - -

John D. M. Barber Peter Butterworth Michael Cahill Patrick Clark John D. Clark Kenneth Cockcroft Peter Corvan Philip E. Costin James Davies

Anthony S. R. Ennis Patrick J. W. Ennis Francis Morrell Reginald Parsons Francis Ramsay James Rowland Ernest Scully Victor Slark Peter Tite   R.I.P.

Don Burton.