“Remember, gentlemen, no matter what you do and wherever you find yourself in the world, part of the School will always be with you.” This was part of my annual message every year as Headmaster to the leavers of QEGS as they were about to embark on life after school. Doubtless similar sentiments have been expressed on numerous occasions to countless generations of school leavers. My own words came back to me as, on 15th June 2024, together with members of the Class of 74 who had returned to NHS for their reunion, I was standing in the Player Hall looking at a representation of Dames Agnes Mellers as depicted kneeling in front of a young King Henry VIII at the heading of the School’s charter. I wonder if Kevin Fear was totally aware of the significance of the much smaller copy of the same picture which he had presented to me on my retirement from the Governing Body on the third occasion I had formally “left” the School and which now hangs in our dining room at our home in Wakefield? It took me back to being twelve years old when my half-fees Foundation Scholarship, awarded at the age of eleven, was “upgraded” in status to that of “Dame Agnes Mellers Foundation Scholar” and to responsibilities such an honour brought with it. For me it is a very tangible reminder that my alma mater, NHS, is always with me. 

This is, however, to start far from the beginning of my connection with the School. I was submitted by my parents for the entrance examination to the Prep in 1952 for a very pragmatic reason. My father, a stern schoolmaster of the “old school”, had been on the staff at High Pavement GS for 20 years by this stage. With the 11+ looming and our home in Sherwood being in the High Pavement catchment area, the prospect of me embarrassing him there was not one he relished and so, as with a number of his colleagues who took the same view with their sons, the answer lay in a school where I would be “stretched academically in a disciplined environment” – how often was I to hear those words!

My time in the Prep was generally happy. Whilst we were all in total awe of Mr CL Reynolds – Ken Imeson joined a year after I started and Friday morning assemblies under both Headmasters were terrifying to eight and nine year olds.  I developed great respect for John Allen and when a young Bill Walker joined the staff I learned to recognise, even at an early age, inspirational teaching. A previous edition of this magazine has described the experiment of how four of our number were promoted from the Prep straight to Form 3B. Another four of us from 1A1 (Raymond Lee, Chris Kent, David Somekh and myself) were to form a separate part of the experiment. Instead of going into 2K as anticipated, we were to become part of Arthur (Tubby) Hardwick’s form, 2H, with his love of letter patterns and incomprehensible cries of “Poopstick!” To the best of my knowledge this experiment was never repeated – perhaps as a form we had been just too boisterous and separation was deemed the answer?

The start of my senior school career was a nightmare and I came to understand the meaning of the term “embarrassment”. On the first morning, at the beginning of the very first form tutor session, Tubby blurted out: “Mardling? Which one of you is Mardling? Stand up, Mardling! Boys, I know Mardling’s father so I’m making Mardling Form Captain”. If ever I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole, it was then!  Fortunately my contemporaries turned out to be a very forgiving group and with the passage of time this incident seemed to have been forgotten. Friendships were made, some of them very long lasting, but I’m afraid that I found it difficult to forgive Tubby. It turned out that during World War II, he and my father, both as schoolmasters and therefore in a reserved occupation, had been members of the ARP and had shared fire watching duties on the top of St Leo’s Church in Basford. Once Dad’s Army had established itself in the national consciousness and with a picture of Warden Hodges and his men in my mind, I admit to finding myself smiling at the image of my father, a burly 6 footer operating in tandem with the much shorter, considerably stouter Tubby Hardwick!   

Over the course of the next few years I was to accept that the world of Natural Sciences and I were not meant for each other. Those teachers who understood me and whom I came to admire included John Pitts (Maths), Adam Thomas (History), Gerald “Waldo” Taylor (Latin) and the brilliant Walther Grauberg (Modern Languages). As linguists we were initially shaken to learn that at the end of our O Level year Walther was to leave us for the incomprehensible world of Linguistics at Nottingham University.  However, our concern did not last long as his replacement was a man who was not only an inspiring teacher with a wicked sense of humour but someone who throughout my life was to become not only a colleague and  mentor but also a close friend – Andrew McMurchy. My Vith Form experience was enhanced by the brilliance and charisma of Alan Locke (English) and by my rather more mature appreciation of Cedric Thimann’s qualities. Everyone taught French by Cedric will remember his carefully annotated pieces of paper – one for every lesson of every day, which included the names of those to whom he was going to test on the finer points of French vocabulary and syntax. His attention to detail and preparation lasted throughout his teaching career. In his very last lesson prior to retirement in July 1973, which coincided with my last day on the NHS staff, I had to slip unnoticed in to the stock room adjacent to his teaching room – and he was using his preparation sheets to the very last. Without fear of contradiction, in all of my subsequent career, as   Headmaster, Governor, inspector or adviser, I have never met a more professional approach. With apologies to those who do not share in his delight at the nuances of the French language, he was “le meilleur professeur de français que j’AIE jamais rencontré”. One other member of the teaching staff who had a great influence on me who must not go unmentioned was Chalkie White. This was not just because I enjoyed the sporting life of the school but also because towards the end of my school career he was to become my house tutor. The appointment of someone not part of the academic hierarchy to such a position was considered very radical but for me it worked perfectly. Even now, being someone these days “more built for comfort than for speed” many of his expressions stay rooted firmly in the mind.

The School’s 450th anniversary loomed very large in Ken Imeson’s thinking in my 3rd year in the 6th – I have often wondered whether KRI really appreciated how much of the “hard slog” my close friend and School Vice-Captain John Baggaley carried out in organising the captive 6th form workforce.  As soon as the celebrations were over my father negotiated my slightly early exit so I could go to work in Germany – neither he nor KRI were known for their willingness to compromise. This meant that my contemporary Jeremy Hicken would have to continue to shoulder the burden of teaching Oswald Lush’s junior French classes alone! I left with Andrew McMurchy’s parting words, uttered with a smile as he lit his pipe and with his gown in its customary position hanging off one shoulder, “Well, I suppose you’re old enough and ugly enough to look after yourself!”

Andrew was to reappear in my life just over four years later. By this time, after graduation, my ambition to enter the world of commerce, with dreams of attending the Harvard Business School, had been rendered entirely misplaced. I had found my experience of the commercial world totally uninspiring so I had started teaching remedial English and a little CSE French at a local secondary modern school where a learned a great deal, Gedling County Secondary. Although without a formal teaching qualification at this stage I quickly realised that teaching was for me. With Stuart Brenan about to depart for Hutton GS in Lancashire, Andrew was looking for his successor. A phone call and interview later saw me back at NHS. My concerns that some of the senior staff might treat me as a senior boy were quickly dispelled and many of them helped me in so many ways. David Peters encouraged me to undertake a formal teaching qualification in my own time and it was a brave man who ignored David’s advice. The avuncular Jack Mells who had taught me woodwork as a boy helped with so many of the unseen administrative tasks and the whole Modern Languages department, not least John Hayes who had only recently joined the staff, ensured that I avoided so many of the pitfalls a young teacher might make. There had been quite an influx of new recruits to the staff since I had left as a boy, including Ian Driver, Martin Jones, Dave Phillips and Bob Jackson, followed shortly after my own arrival among others by Phil Eastwood, Tony Bird and Marcus Coulam and this helped with the balance of age groups within the staff room. I enjoyed the teaching, the exchange visits, the ski trips, the sporting life of the school and what became known later as “Community Action”. We had a great deal of fun, even if some were more skilful members of the staff soccer team than others!

Some thirty-five years after leaving NHS to further my teaching career, I found myself back in my third role, this time as a Governor. By this time, particularly after the immense progress under Dennis Whitcombe, the School’s facilities had improved extraordinarily, with many of the old buildings such as the old Dining Hall, Dr Turpin’s House and the Bike sheds now replaced by a new Music School, a purpose built Science block and a Design Technology Centre. The Old West Quad, which in the early 1950s had seen Colly-B  and his colleagues park their cars, was just about to be transformed in to a superb new dining area. One of the major responsibilities of any team of Governors and Head is to plan for the future and it is clear that this has been undertaken seriously and with great effect. The major decision during my time on the Board related to the admission of girls and the move towards full co-education. In these times of political and economic uncertainty I am convinced that the school is well equipped to face the many challenges to come.

In conclusion I must pay tribute to those who organised the reunion of the class of 1974 to allow me the luxury of such nostalgia – Simon Jackson, David Wild and the Development Office staff and perhaps, most of all, Geri Thomas who in his role as ambassador shared his vast knowledge of the history of the school , its buildings and perhaps most poignantly of all, its characters. We shared many a memory of the foibles and idiosyncrasies of those who had taught us, their sayings, actions and antics, all repeated with affection and humour but far too many to be recounted here. My thanks also go the class of 1974 and the warmth of their welcome. As I shared memories with members of the Rugby team which Dave Phillips and I had run at U13, U14 and U15 levels, it was Robert Gilbert, the team’s hooker, who said quite simply, “They were really good times”.

As I drove home to Yorkshire, Geri’s words by the War Memorial earlier dominated my thinking– he pointed out that it was in the rose garden by the Memorial that Andrew McMurchy’s ashes had been scattered. I had found that simple announcement deeply emotional. Given Andrew’s life of service and his commitment to the School and to all of us who were his charges, I could not think of anywhere more appropriate.

Lauda Finem