The War Years is a recollection by Brian Agar (Class of 1945) about his experiences at Highbury Preparatory School during the Second World War years.
V.E. DAY
On 8 May 1945, Nazi Germany surrendered and the Second World War in Europe ended. Headmaster Elliot McMillan called the staff and boys to an assembly and announced victory. There were cheers and tears. Old Boys had been killed in action. Some boys had fathers and relatives in prisoner of war (POW) camps. A few boys were evacuees with parents overseas. Classes were closed for the day. I ran outside with a few other seniors and we started to ring the school bell in the courtyard. This was normally a punishable offence but not on that occasion.
BOARDING SCHOOL FLAVOUR
This was my last year at Highbury before stepping up to high school. I was given the number 79 when I first arrived and it was inked or stitched on clothes and nailed (with small copper nails) to the soles of leather shoes and slippers. As a “new poop” I soon learned the colloquial jargon and proceeded to soak up the atmosphere of a unique preparatory boarding school for boys. There were about half a dozen day scholars. The rest of us only returned home for the four school holidays each year.
Petrol rationing meant that we saw our parents mid-term only at special events. Petrol was supplemented with Union Spirit made from sugar cane and “four and one” was the usual call to the petrol attendant when filling the tank. We were obliged to write a family letter every week. The effect was to create a camaraderie amongst the boys. Friendships were born. Nicknames were invented which probably stood the test of time. These were benefits only a boarding school could provide.
A LEAFY LOCALITY
The school dominated the quiet leafy village of Hillcrest on the only road between Durban and Pietermaritzburg. There were no serious fences or gates but the boys were strictly confined to the boundaries except for official Sunday walks. The school grounds were spread over a wide area with a fine cricket oval and turf pitch, other sports fields, a swimming pool and undeveloped land. There was never a feeling of “being caged”.
DISCIPLINE
Elliot McMillan was a good headmaster and he had assembled a competent team, despite the prevailing war and teacher shortage. The mentorship that I and other boys received was significant. Discipline was firm but fair. The rod was not spared. A butter pat was used for the younger boys and lesser offences and up to “six of the best” with a Malacca cane for the more serious. I believe my contemporaries would agree that this form of punishment was necessary and not harmful.
WALKS
Routine was broken on Sundays, with a morning service in the chapel wearing starched Eton Collars (disliked) an afternoon walk with a master in the unspoilt countryside (much enjoyed) and a bedtime story from Granny McMillan in the dining room (so-so). It was on one of the walks below Botha’s Hill near Gever’s d a m that we followed a path through fall grass in single file. I suddenly felt a large snake wrap itself around one of my legs. In a panic I kicked wildly and the snake flew into the air like a “kleilat” (the clay ring around a stick which Afrikaans kids flick at each other). I was never able to conclude what kind of snake it was and whether it was poisonous or not. Of course, the other boys would never let me forget the event and kept tickling my legs with a vine.
CRICKET
While in Form 1 (Standard 5) I was selected for the first XI cricket team and took the most wickets during the season. The next year I was vice captain, again took the most wickets and was awarded Cricket Honours and a Don Brandman bat. Highbury was a small school but held its’ own facing opponents such a Merchiston, Cordwalles, DPHS, the Michaelhouse Bunnies and the Hilton College Falcons. The Falcons were formidable with boys mostly older and Highbury had a poor success rate against them. In the cricket match of 1945 played at Hilton, our opponents batted first and built up a good score. We struggled to reach the target and then the mist rolled in as it is wont to do in that lofty escarpment. The batsmen found it difficult to see the ball and would have been justified in calling off the match. At the time I was batting and managed to hit one delivery firmly between fielders. If batsmen had difficulty picking a ball out of the mist, the fielders had an impossible task; first to find the ball and then to make sure it was safely returned to the wicketkeeper or the bowler’s end.
After hitting that ball I called on my fellow batsmen to run and we crossed six times before I saw a fielder running towards the wicket with the ball in his hand. The umpire called “six” to the scorer, who was also having problems with the mist. A ball or so later was edged off my bat through the hands of the fielders for four. The Falcons’ captain suggested that the match be called off but, when consulted, we said “play on”. The upshot was that we eventually overtook the Falcons’ score and won the match with some players yet to bat. Our Master, John Daniel, was delighted. He drove us back through the mist in the “Black Maria”, a converted International van, singing at the top of his voice. As we entered the school grounds the team stuck their heads out of the windows and sang the Highbury war cry “boom-a-lakka, boom-a-lakka, waah-waah-waah. At that moment the school was watching the usual Saturday night film show in the dining room but they immediately broke away and rushed to greet us, realising we had pulled off a remarkable victory.
SOME VIGNETTES
Initiation of new poops was short and sweet. At an informal meeting of most of the seniors, a new boy would be required to introduce himself and sing a song or recite a verse. Limited fagging took place, mainly where a senior would “honour” a first year boy to carry his kitbag or run errands or collect the tuck shop rations. I did not come across any bullying although I was told some had occurred in a previous year. An unwelcome custom was the compulsory dose of castor oil or Epsom salts, which the stern matron administered to each boy once a term.
An unusual custom was that we never wore bathing costumes or trunks in the swimming pool except for the gala when our parents and visitors would be present. Hobbies mutated and ranged between spinning tops, kites, marbles, silkworms, building tree houses or huts and collecting birds’ eggs.
CLOUDS OF WAR
World War II was never far from our young minds. I remember how a friend was struck with grief when his father was captured a n d sent to a POW c a m p . I remember his delight on V.E. day. There were shortages. Permits were needed for any building work and improvements for the school were delayed. Food shortages probably contributed to our fairly humdrum diet and a near revolt on one occasion where we formed a line and marched around chanting, “We want better grub”. I was not used to having porridge for breakfast and also, quite often, for supper. Imported sports equipment was difficult to source. Cigarette packs included cards showing the machines of war, tanks, artillery, regimental badges, aeroplanes and warships. These were avidly collected and stuck into the special albums. I still have mine. And then there was the cadet contingent for senior boys where we were drilled and even taught to shoot in the purpose-built shooting range.
One day it was announced that Field Marshall Smuts, would be driving through Hillcrest on his way to Durban. Our Headmaster arranged for him to pause on the road and review the small cadet squad.
SPECIAL EVENTS
Besides interschool cricket and rugby contests the school calendar allowed for parent visits at:
- the swimming gala
- inter-house athletics competition
- a school concert
- prize giving and speech day.
The boys were also entertained by the annual visit of a magician who doubled as the preacher in the Sunday chapel service that followed. All indoor events were held in the multi-purpose dining room. The music room was in the wood and iron shed next door to the dwelling of Joe Smith, the irascible handyman. [The boys enjoyed throwing small stones on his tin roof and running away as he emerged shouting “Git, Git Git” from an enraged mouth].
In my last year I was able to contribute to the concert with my ukulele. (George Formby was my hero). With a drummer, pianist, harmonica player and a small group of singers, we managed to spin some well known songs such as “Don’t Fence Me In”, “Sarie Marais” and the wartime song “Bless Them All” – which brought the house ‘down’.
FINALE
The great essayist, Charles Lamb, described his mentored upbringing in the Royal courts of Justice in London as his ‘place of kindly engendure’. I venture to describe Highbury as one such place in my path through life.
BRIAN AGAR, Highbury Class of 1945
