Back Row: Michael Darby, George Kay, Keith Miller, Ken Mellor, Dennis King, Alun Thomas, Roger Kerry, B08, Norman Harvey, Gary Farmer
Standing: A. Michiels (Proprietor), Ellick Ward, Norman Jones, Langstone, Joe Bailey, M06, M07, Kirk, A.E. Prevett, M10, John Hancock, M12, M13, M14, Iain Cotton, G.R. Prevett, ‘Squeaker’ Alliss, David Green, M19, Glyn Hall
Seated on Bench: Tom Parker, Dave Hobby, Dave Orme, Tony Docksey, F05, F06, F07, F08, Tony McGlynn, F10
Seated on Floor: FL01, Brian Bradbury, Bob Fletcher, Proprietress of the hotel with her dog,  Chris Goddard, John Adams.

An account by Bob Fletcher (seated on floor third from left)…

The school trip to Bruges in Belgium was an annual event during the time I attended the Grammar School. Please forgive my lapses in memory but it is over 50 years ago after all when I went – 1952 I believe, when I was 12 and in form 2A. One received an invitation at the beginning of the school year, I believe, and places were allocated on a first come first served basis as far as I remember. The trip took place in the summer, but I can’t remember whether it was during term time or during the summer vacation – I’m sure someone who went on one of the trips will answer that question.

On departure day we met up at Burton railway station, presumably in the morning, carrying our suitcases (or, more likely with the younger ones like myself, the suitcase being carried by a parent) shoes polished, hair combed and probably new clothes bought specially for the trip. We boarded a train to London, presumably changing at Derby. Once in London we travelled on the underground to Charing Cross station (or was it Waterloo?), where we boarded the train for Dover. At Dover we boarded the ferryboat to Ostend and I remember that the sea was very rough, so most of us spent the trip below decks feeling decidedly queasy. No doubt a few were actually seasick. I don’t recall very much else about the sea trip and can’t remember how long it took. At Ostend we boarded a train to Bruges; again I don’t remember much about it or how we got from the station to the hotel. I remember thinking that the railway engines looked different to the ones in England. At the hotel we were allocated rooms but I don’t remember how many to a room or who I shared with.

Whilst in Bruges we went on a trip to Walcheren Island which I think is just over the border in Holland. I took with me on the trip an old Brownie box camera which I left on a stall in the market place whilst making a purchase of some sort of souvenir, so I ended up with no souvenir photographs to show people back home. I don’t recall any other organised trips but I do remember having lots of free time to look around Bruges, which I remember as a quaint town (city?) with its canals and ladies in the streets spinning lace garments. A few of us made friends with a Belgian boy of around our age and he showed us around lots of places including the beautiful cathedral. He even took us to meet his parents. Some of us, despite our age, were smokers and purchased Belgian cigarettes, because they were cheaper than English ones, but the Belgian lad thought we were mad, as he only smoked English ones because of their superior quality.

One day a group of us were smoking in my bedroom, which was at the end of a corridor, when someone heard “Ernie” Ward at the other end of the corridor. The others quickly left to go to their own rooms leaving me to face him alone. I quickly swilled my face and rinsed my mouth out just before “Ernie” entered, sniffed and said “Has someone been smoking in here?” to which I replied “No sir, there’s only me in here, it must be coming in through the window.” Fortunately for me he did not question that stupid remark, but turned round and walked away.

Although my memory of the trip has been dulled by advancing years, I know that I thoroughly enjoyed my first trip abroad as did everyone else who went. It was interesting to find out that although we had a slight understanding of the French language, (but not Flemish which was spoken by many Belgians), most of the Belgian people we came across spoke very good English. I remember a group of us once getting slightly lost and asking, in schoolboy French, an old lady for directions back to the hotel. She started to reply in very fast French, which we could not understand, but once we explained that we were English she gave us the directions in perfect English.

Although it was 1952, there was still a great deal of rationing in England, seemingly more so than in Belgium, for I remember purchasing a bag of sugar to take home for my mum, who was very pleased to receive it. I was very grateful to my parents for giving me the opportunity to travel abroad, something which they themselves had never done at that time.

My final recollection of the trip is that carrying a suitcase around left me with a blister on the middle finger of my left hand. A few days after returning from the trip I was on my travels again to attend a cadet camp in South Wales. Whilst there, the blister on my finger turned septic and I ended up in the camp hospital where they lanced the finger to remove the poison within the wound. At least I did not have to get up early every morning and go on exercises with the rest of the lads, but spent several days lying or sitting around getting pampered by the orderlies because of my young age.

Because of the time spent in hospital I was unable to finish smoking the packet of cigarettes which I had in my army shirt pocket. I forgot to take them out of the pocket when I got home and next morning was horrified to find that my mum had removed the shirt from my bedroom and had washed it. When she subsequently started ironing it she discovered a mangled pack of cigarettes in the pocket. I don’t remember what punishment I received for that, but believe it was tempered by the fact that I had been in hospital.

By 1957, the Bruges trip seems to have found some popularity with school masters; aside from the usual Ellick Ward and Norman Jones, also present are Walter Chadbourne, Raymond Crowther, Hugh Wood and Jake Hammond. I wonder how pleased the pupils were to find such a conspicuous staff presence ?!

Among the pupils are Roy Chamberlain (M02), Robin Langton (M03), David Smart (M04), A. Dytham (M05), Noble (M06), David Berker (M08), Gordon Marjoram (M09), David Brunning (F02), Jack Richards (F08) and Woosnam-Savage (F09)

Front Row: Measham, Sarginson, Elson, Peter Smith, John Monk, Elder, Smith, Clemson, Bloss
Middle Row: Hambling, Murkin, Peter Tripp (half hidden), John Lings (slightly behind), Marshall, Whitewood, David Moore, Andrew Limb, Williams, Chinnery
Back Row: John Hodgson, Bob Ash, Walter Chadbourne (master), B04, Michael Hill (both hidden and slightly forward), Brambley

This was a visit by Class 3B of 1957 to the ‘New’ London Heathrow Airport. The Queen had opened the first permanent terminal building, the Europa Building (now known as Terminal 2), in 1955.

In the 1950s the RAF seemed to be very exciting. The new RAF fighter planes the Supermarine Swift and the Hawker Hunter broke several world records. The new Gloster Javelin all weather fighter had a delta wing and new Air-to-Air missiles. The iconic V-bombers were entering service. The first V-bomber was the Valiant painted in ‘anti-flash’ white. A year later there were the delta winged Avro Vulcans, then a year after that the last of the V-bomber types, the crescent winged Victors. Even RAF Transport Command had a jet transport squadron by the time I joined the Grammar School.

Bomber Command was commissioning a Thor missile squadron and Fighter Command seemed to be swapping fighter planes for Ramjet powered Bloodhound missiles. Then the amazing Lightning interceptor entered service so there was still a chance to be a pilot of the future in the RAF.

With all this in mind a week or two at an RAF camp in the late 1950s and early 60s looked like an exciting prospect for any RAF cadet.

Training Squadrons and Air Experience.
I am sure that most of the RAF personnel do not fly when they are at work, however it was important to get cadets into planes and off the ground. This was called Air Experience. At camps there were two ways to get Air Experience. The first was to be a passenger on a multi engine training flight with free seats in the back. The second was to become a temporary trainee pilot and sit with a pilot instructor, hands-on.

The Avro Anson looked like an old mini airliner. This type had been in service with the RAF since before WW2 and was still the standard twin engine trainer in the 1950s and 60s. They were slow, noisy, often smelling of ‘AvGas’ and exhaust fumes and were nothing like the supersonic RAF of the New Elizabethan Era of the newspaper headlines.

The Avro Anson was the most common provider of our Air Experience probably because there seemed to be one at every camp, more at RAF Shawbury and RAF Swinderby. One time Cadet Under Officer Ian Quayle took over the controls of one and took us all for a spin for an half an hour or so.

While at camp with Transport Command at RAF Dishforth we had the opportunity to fly in a Blackburn Beverly transport which was quite new, having only been in service since about 1955. At the time of entering service it was the largest aircraft in the RAF, I suppose they were around 3 stories high, they could carry 30 paratroopers in the tail boom and many more in the main cargo hold.

This is why I had my chum in the above shot for scale. There was an opportunity to fly in one of these planes when the crew were training on circuits and bumps. Circuits and bumps involves a plane taking off, flying round and coming in to land, rolling along the runway, powering up and taking off again, then doing it all over again and again. I declined the kind offer. Fortunately there was an option to go on the rifle range.

I had a hands-on opportunity in a De Havilland Chipmunk. This was a tandem seat basic trainer. I remember that it was difficult to walk to and get into the aircraft with my parachute bashing against the back of my legs, below the knee.

I also had a go in a Vampire T11, this fighter trainer had ejector seats. An aircraftwoman fastened me into the parachute which was fastened to the ejector seat. Even my ankles were strapped to the seat to stop my legs from flaying around and getting chopped off in the event of ejecting. Once I was fastened in, the aircraftwoman pulled out the seat’s arming pin and it’s big red disc from the back of the seat (like the pin out of the grenade) then showed it to me and stuck it in a pocket on the side of the seat. Now I knew that the seat was armed and it was safe for the pilot to take off.
Frontline Squadrons.

At RAF Church Fenton in 1959 there were two squadrons, one flying Hawker Hunter day fighters and another flying Gloster Meteor NF11 and NF14 night fighters. The Meteors were in the process of being phased out as the new Gloster Javelin night fighters came into service. If we had flown in a Meteor the bail out instructions were as follows; If you should need to leave the aircraft the pilot will let you know. He will tell you that he is releasing the canopy. After he has released the canopy he will tell you to stand. You stand and the airflow will carry you out of the cockpit to safety. So you stand, get hit in the chest by a 500+ mph gale which will thrust you backwards into the tail fin. Some new definition of the term ‘Safety’?

When I discovered the black and white contact prints from which these photographs have been taken I could not believe how very old fashioned the Meteors look. We were not allowed to photograph the Javelin or it’s air to air missiles.

RAF camps and air fields seemed to me to be a bit strange. Vast expanses of flat ground, buildings sparse and most of the time there seemed to be no one around. Great times, did a lot of shooting and learned a lot. However the RAF was a lot sexier in the newspapers.

Back Row: Geoffrey Roberts, Derek Rookyard, Bellamy, Pegg, Ching, Terry Royall, R. Deacon, Mike Stannard
Middle Row: Robert Young, Reynolds, Paul Margetson, ‘Ziggy’ Patras, M. Jones, Mick Gee, Bird, Paul Bidder, Haddows, Clive Hardy
Front row: Astell, Chris Taft, Trevor Taylor, F04, Mick Waldron, David ‘Shrubby’ Shrubbs (Form master), Keith Tomlinson, Bryan Huckerby, Large, Matkin, Barnett

Robert James was educated at Newcastle (Staffordshire) High School. From here he went to the University of Durham (Grey College) where he gained a degree in French Language and Literature and Post-graduate Certificate of Education. He played cricket for the university for four years and became captain in 1970.

He spent one year in France at the Lycee Marceau, Chartres, as English assistant.  This coincided with the student riots of May-June 1968.  There was a general strike for a short time and Sixth Formers occupied the school, so effectively he had a month off work.

Bob also played cricket for Staffordshire and Derbyshire 2nd XI, played in North Staffs and South Cheshire League as both an amateur (Longton CC) and professional and was professional at the same club (Norton) where Sir Frank Worrell, Sir Garfield Sobers and Jim Laker had been professional. He also played hockey for Burton in the 70s.

His first experience of Burton Grammar School was as an opponent in a cricket match played at the Mill Hill Lane site when he was a pupil at Newcastle (Staffordshire) High School.  He remembers being impressed by the view from the pitch over the Trent valley, but Burton itself seeming singularly unattractive, even to someone brought up amongst the smoke and grime of North Staffordshire.

It was therefore somewhat ironic that he was destined to spend five years as a master at the school and a further thirty-one on the same site at the Abbot Beyne School.  By the time he retired, having been acting Head for a short while the previous year, he was beginning to feel like Mr Chips.

It was on a damp miserable Friday in March 1970, having made what seemed an interminable journey from Durham, that Bob had found himself being interviewed for the post of assistant French master at the school.  A misty shroud enveloped the town, and the unique Burton aroma of malt, rubber and Robirch permeated everything.  It did not make for a very welcoming atmosphere.

Having found his way from the station to the ‘Swan’ as a reference, he finally located the school.  In fact, he arrived early for the interview, and was asked to wait in the corridor outside the office. Deputy Headmaster, Geoff Henton appeared but what he expected to be a preliminary interview turned into a pleasant chat about sport, especially rugby, as the school was agog at the prospect of the match the following day at Peel Croft – the Rugby County Championship final.  It is a competition which no longer exists in these days of professional rugby, but it was in those days a major event in the sport’s calendar.  Against all the odds Staffordshire, coached by one Vic Roebuck, had reached the final, a final which they were to win.

He was then shown around the French department and interviewed by Bill Gillion.  To his surprise, he was offered the job. To Mr Gillion’s surprise, Bob asked for time to think about it.  It was clear that here was a good department in a good school, but the thought of living in Burton on Trent was not appealing.  The smell of Marmite was still in his nostrils.

Given the good prospects for a young French master, taking into account the age profile of the department, Bob’s motives for accepting the post were rather less career-orientated.  He was captain of the cricket team at Durham University and a full fixture list beckoned for the summer.  He didn’t want to waste time travelling around the country for interviews when he could be playing cricket!

Having accepted the post, he started in September in this prestigious school which had just celebrated its 450th anniversary.  The French department was well-managed by Hugh Wood, who managed to combine old-fashioned academic rigour with new-fangled methods such as a language laboratory and an audio-visual course in the first year.  He was superbly organised and the syllabus set out exactly what was to be done.  Hugh was always supportive and helpful.  The other members of the department were Ellick Ward and Betty Radford, who like Hugh were approaching the end of their careers.  Ellick was always jovial, often making a gift of his bottles of home-made wine to his colleagues.

Mr James also had to teach some Latin, a prospect which he did not relish, as he had studied the subject at university only as a subsidiary, and had not touched a Latin book for three years.  Fortunately, John Long had only allocated him a small set of Lower Sixth pupils who had failed ‘O’ level because they had missed out the third year in order to take GCE early.  They were therefore extremely bright and motivated because they needed the qualification for Oxbridge matriculation.  The lessons took quite a while to prepare; he remembers spending ages sorting out the first lesson – a double – and running out of material half-way through. The lads however, sailed through the November re-sits and later went on to Oxbridge.

His first French lesson was a total disaster. It was with a first year group in the French room using the audio-visual course.  After a couple of minutes the drive-band on the tape-recorder, a reel-to-reel machine which was at the cutting edge of technology at the time, broke.  As one spool spun totally out of control, the desk was soon covered with yards of tape.  He carried on as best he could without the machine until the bulb in the projector blew.  Fortunately the lessons were only forty minutes long in those days and he somehow survived but hasn’t trusted technology since.

Living in Burton was something of the culture shock that he had feared.  He rented a small bed-sit in an old house on Ashby Road owned by the Renwick family which is now an old people’s home. After four years in Durham and one in Chartres, woken each day by the sound of bells and looking out on to two of the most magnificent cathedrals in Europe, it was loud drone of beer lorries struggling up Ashby Road and the view of the water tower which now greeted him each morning.

Still, Burton had its compensations in the form of the excellent school.  He was able to settle into the swing of things and was soon enjoying the work.

The staff was the usual mix of the experienced ‘doyens’ and the younger masters who definitely knew their place in the hierarchy.  Amongst the former were, as well as Hugh Wood, Norman Jones, Harry Smith and Ron Illingworth. The latter was a luminary.  During Robert’s first week in the school, a fearful first-former, waiting outside the Geography room, asked “Sir, is it true that Mr Illingworth throws boys out of the window?”  Brave was the boy who would dare to put a foot wrong in one of Ronnie’s lessons.  A shared interest in cricket meant that Bob and Ron got on well.

Harry Smith, of course, was already a legend. His teaching was inspirational and a steady stream of Sixth-formers made their way to the best universities in the country to read Maths.  He also made his colleagues laugh with his deep fund of anecdotes.

All these men had great presence and were awe-inspiring to newcomers, but once Bob got to know them, they were the epitome of kindness and good humour. What struck him was the fact that many of the staff had great talents outside of their subject specialisms, whether it was in the arts or sport.  Experts in their subjects they certainly were, but they were also well-rounded and cultured men.

Many of the younger staff were also gifted sportsmen and would willingly take on a team, which, in the case of rugby, meant three practices a week and a match every Saturday from the end of September to the beginning of March.  The present generation of teachers, sadly, are too busy with one initiative after another to take on such tasks, and in any case, school sport nationally suffered enormously in the 80s, never to recover, despite the government’s finally waking up to the fact that competitive sport is not necessarily the evil which many progressives think it is.

Quite apart from the dedicated PE staff (the inimitable Vic Roebuck and John French) Alan Cure, a former pupil and Cambridge graduate, was a Staffordshire prop and trained the Under 15s.  John Long, who could turn his hand with equal facility to rugby, tennis or cricket, took the under 14s in the winter and a tennis or cricket team in the summer.  Colin Bagshaw could be seen every Saturday morning in the rugby season refereeing a match before turning his attention to cricket in the summer.

It was no surprise then that the school produced a steady supply of rugby players for the county and even the England teams.  The Osman brothers, Peter Nelson and Pete Orton represented their country in the early 70s.  Mr James remembers being asked by Geoff Henton if he would help him to transport some of the Under 15 team to a county match one Saturday.  Half the Staffordshire side seemed to be from school.  Two names that emerge from the mists of time as well as Orton were Tony Hair and John Sharpe.

Bob’s own small contribution to sport was to help John French with senior cricket coaching and take the Under 12s rugby squad.  The latter was an innovation, and normally the Loughborough student would lend a hand.  The first was John Appleby who became assistant head at Paulet.  They were amazed at one early training session when a young lad started popping over kicks from both sides of the pitch with either foot.  His name was Russell Osman, later like his elder brother Mark, to represent England Schools at rugby.  He then found fame as an England and Ipswich Town centre-half. Other members of that side included Jes Redfern and Paul Green, who both made their mark on local cricket.

As far as cricket was concerned, lads such as Bob Lathbury, Graham Parkinson, Graham Milnes and David Marshall were all accomplished players, with the latter two enjoying considerable success after they left school with Bass and Burton CC respectively.

Bob was form master of one group of pupils for several years. He taught them French from 2B to ‘O’ level as well.  He found them a pleasant group who worked hard (under suitably applied pressure!) and with whom you could share a joke at the same time.  Names that spring to mind are Mark Turner, Paul Johnston, Dave Granville, Steve White, the Markeys, Chris Talbot and “Sam” Salt to name but a few.  It was a class of over 30, much to be frowned on these days.  The marking was time-consuming but the results were excellent. He had to admit to feeling very old when Chris Talbot’s son (along with Tony Di Gravio’s lad) turned up in his Citizenship group in his last year of teaching.

The final year of the Grammar School intake produced some outstanding pupils both academically and on the sports field.  Graham Shaw went on to read Vetinary Science at Cambridge and played hockey in an outstanding Abbot Beyne XI which included Mick Emery, Ian Jones and Steve Morrison.  (John Mills, a future Scottish international, was also in that side, but he had arrived at the school after re-organisation.)

BGS ran smoothly.  Bill Gillion was a typical grammar school headmaster of the time, paternalistic in his approach. Staff meetings were few and far between; the masters simply got on with the job.  Bill’s deputy, Geoff Henton, was always calm and extremely helpful to young staff.  Little did Bob realise that he would one day succeed him as Deputy Head.  That was in 1984 after serving as Head of Department for the previous ten years.

Bob finally retired in the summer of 2006. David Mart had retired the previous year leaving Bob as the last staff link between Abbot Beyne School and Burton Grammar School.

Despite his original impression of Burton, Bob still lives locally. He is married to Yvonne with two sons. The elder son Mark did a degree at York before doing a Master’s at Loughborough before training as an accountant.  Younger son Michael read Law at Cambridge. He is spending his retirement watching sport and doing some occasional sports writing (football and cricket) for both the press and websites, and coaching cricket at Rolleston CC and for Derbyshire U17s and other age-groups.

Robert James was a member of staff at the time of transition from Burton Grammar School to Abbot Beyne Comprehensive:

The dreaded ‘C’ word (comprehensive) wasn’t heard a great deal in 1970-71.  Teachers knew that there were plans for re-organisation, but Ted Heath’s victory in the June 1970 general election, contrary to the predictions of every opinion poll, meant that they were unlikely to go ahead.  Burton, it is often forgotten, was then a County Borough, not administratively part of Staffordshire. But local government re-organisation meant that this independence was soon to be lost, and coupled with a change in the political climate locally and nationally, it became clear that comprehensive re-organisation was inevitable.

The Headmaster, Bill Gillion, announced his retirement in 1973, no doubt seeing the writing on the wall, and after a term when Geoff Henton was acting head, Brian Harris took over the reins in January 1974.  He was a man of high principles, as his decision to go into the church five years late clearly showed.  He was approachable whilst at the same time having considerable presence.  It is often forgotten that he had taught at one of the leading grammar schools in the North of England, Stockport G.S., and managed BGS as a grammar school very effectively.

By this time, numbers in the school were falling.  Pupils who had previously come from outlying villages in both Derbyshire and Staffordshire now were directed to their nearest secondary school.  In 1974, the intake was only 2 forms instead of the usual 3.  Another nail was being driven into the coffin.

Before Mr Harris’ arrival, the governors had sought Direct Grant status from the Minister of Education.  There were many Direct Grant Schools in the country, prestigious grammar schools such as Loughborough GS, Nottingham High School, King Henry’s Coventry.  These schools were not funded by the local authority but by a grant from central government, hence the name.  This gave them much more independence than the voluntary controlled schools such as BGS.

The Secretary of State for Education at the time however, refused to re-open the direct grant list. Given that person’s later education policies, this may seem surprising – it was none other than Margaret Thatcher. Fifteen years or so later, her government’s Education Reform Act set up Grant Maintained Schools to free schools, if they so wished, from the dead hand of local authority control.  By that time, the old Direct Grant Schools had been forced by the previous administration to choose either to go totally independent or be subsumed into the local authority system.

The irony of the setting up of Grant Maintained Schools by the Thatcher government was not lost on those of us still at Abbot Beyne and charged with implementing the 1988 Act.  However, there was considerable opposition and pressure from the local authority and the governors not to seek Grant Maintained Status, and the school’s management got on with the job of implementing the other major initiatives started by the Act – local financial management and the National Curriculum.

It was the elections of 1974 which made re-organisation inevitable.  Few amongst the staff would have argued that the selection process at age 11 was ideal, but there were many who considered that just as flawed was a total, rushed and inadequately funded upheaval of the secondary education of the town based on two split-site schools at the former grammar schools and single site schools at the two remaining secondary moderns.

However, inevitably the plans went ahead and there was to be new school based on the old Girls’ High School, BGS and the Ada Chadwick School.

It was a stressful time for the staff of all three schools.  In the summer of 1975, staff had to apply for the new posts in the new school.  Some kept their status, some were promoted, some moved into new posts and others lost their status, even if salaries were safeguarded.

Everything happened at break-neck speed.  The new school had to be up and running within months.  There was no investment in facilities apart from botched-up conversions of toilets.  One group of parents attempted to halt the re-organisation by seeking an injunction.  It was the middle of August when a judge in chambers ruled that to unpick the re-organisation at that stage would have been more harmful than to let it go ahead.  Until then, we didn’t know for certain what awaited us at the start of the autumn term.

Much bitterness had been generated, with the opinions of many becoming totally polarised.  They were difficult times, and there is little point now in opening old wounds and resurrecting the acrimony of 1975.

Brian Harris, as Head of the new Abbot Beyne School, was inevitably regarded by some of the defenders of the old regime with suspicion, but he showed enormous reserves of resilience as well as sincerity, and did his utmost to bring the staff together and make the new school work.  He did an excellent job in the most trying of conditions, as did the senior staff of all the schools.

Staff opinions at BGS varied.  All were naturally apprehensive.  What many found galling was the fact that some of the more vociferous proponents of the Comprehensive System had left shortly before, leaving the rest of us to pick up the pieces.  Many staff were not opposed to the principle of a comprehensive system, but had well-founded fears about its imposition on three schools without the appropriate investment in new building and resources.  This was, after all, the era in which Denis Healey, as Chancellor of the Exchequer, had to go cap in hand to the International Monetary Fund, such was the state of the nation’s finances.

Split-site schools are difficult to manage.  Travelling between sites leads to stress and fatigue, as well as making timetabling and supervision inordinately difficult.  Gone were the old days when you walked a few yards from the staffroom to your class. Now, for many, it was a dash to the car-park, often carrying a pile of books or resources, and a journey along Bearwood Hill Road to be in time for the next lesson.

The vast majority of staff, especially the younger ones, were pragmatic.  If they wished to teach in a grammar school, then they had to look towards the independent sector.  This was not appealing to many of those who had been educated and had taught in the state system.  Staff had to do their utmost, for the sake of all pupils, to make the slit-site system, imperfect though it was, work.

New ways of working had to be adapted whilst at the same time trying to maintain the best features and traditions of the school.  The object was always to provide the best education possible.  Whether this can be judged to be successful or not, it was certainly not for lack of trying by those involved at the time.

Deus Nobiscum

Paul Leedham was one of the pupils at the time of transition from Burton Grammar School to Abbot Beyne Comprehensive:

As far as the transition from Grammar to Comprehensive was concerned – the whole subject was full of mixed emotions. Many pupils lived in denial that it would ever happen. The cynics amongst us, always filled with awe at the legacy of Mr Gillion, believed that Bomber Harris was brought in because of his left-wing tendancies!! (it never occurred to us that perhaps, just maybe, Mr Gillion was at retirement age by then!!) Nonetheless, the idea of the school becoming comprehensive was something we could never contemplate, despite the fact that several masters told us “this will happen in Sept ’75″ and tried to convince us that converting to a Comprehensive was a much better prospect… as if it were just a game of politics… it became apparent just who the “yes” men were amongst the staff. We were all very proud to ware our Deus Nobiscum badge and accompanying uniform, and what it stood for. Who could possible take the fact that we were Burton Boys Grammar pupils away from us? Well the system couldn’t – the vast majority of us continued to wear our uniform, badge and tie until we left school and moved on, despite being encouraged to hang up our uniform and don the new badge with the motto “Onward Together”.

When the transition arrived in September 1975, the effect ranged from submission to the new regime, to what verged on anarchy. I can clearly remember the first morning, when the doors opened. Where coat hooks had stood at the end of summer term, there now stood horrible, tall metal lockers! Our beautiful wooden lockers, which were built into the walls along the corridors (I’m sure you’ll remember them) were all closed, and were kept that way be means of 4-inch nails through the doors and into the frames. Now we understood why we were asked to empty our lockers at the end of the summer term. Enter the anarchists! A small number of pupils, (suprisingly they were probably the brightest amongst us) borrowed claw hammers and removed as many of the 4-inch nails as possible, and then transferred their belongs back to the wooden lockers. This was followed by a ritual kicking of the new metal lockers, until they were dented and severly damaged. When faced by staff, the anarchists were abusive, disrespectful and downright obnoxious. They’re previous respectful approach to authority was nowhere to be found. Needless to say, the anarchists were dealt with via statutory means at the time, the cane, plus letters to parents. Suprisingly, none were suspended.

Despite the demise of Burton Boys Grammar in name at least, the merger of the three schools caused a number of different emotions. Certain pupils could see the benefits: access to girls from the High School would be much easier, and justified; after all, we were one school now with some mixed classes. However, there was a downside: Ada Chadwick. The girls from there were considered to be “not of suitable standing” to be seen with Grammar School boys, and were avoided at all costs on this basis. The Ada Chadwick boys were another problem all together. They treated us with contempt and regularly called us “Grammar School poofs”, “Nice Boys” or “Snobs”. This led to many bloody scenes, one of which I was involved in; I sustained more damage than any rugby match had inflicted ever on me. Then there was the organised battles on the bank between the rugby field and the ex-Ada Chadwich Building, involving missiles of all shapes and sizes. They were frightening times.

Eventually, I think we came to accept what had happened, but a streak of rebellion always remained. Right to the point where I left the school in 1978, there would be a small contingent that refused to sing the new school song (myself included), and would manage to sing “Deus Nobiscum, God With Us” at the same time as the new song.

At the end of the day, we were all proud to have been pupils at Burton Boys Grammar. Its legacy lives on in all of us. Whenever asked, I’m sure most say “I was at Burton Boys Grammer School” -never- “Abbot Beyne”; I know I do, and always will.

Back Row: Bill Myshrall, Bernie Prior, Ray Cross, David Patrick, Hamilton, Paul Arnold, Mick Peace, Bridges, Ian Gray
Middle Row: Harvey, Tim Hollis, Hunt, Philip Hutchinson, Paul Ratcliff, Oliver Plecan, Michael Aspley, Paul Aston, McKinnon
Front Row: Mick Barrett, Hugh Jones, Tim Watson, John Goodhall, Leslie Roe, Roy Sutton, Philip Mann, Andrew Bexon, Ian Bell