Gavin McHamish
Berkhamsted school 1955-1959

My parents chose Berkhamsted because it was close to my sister Alison’s school, Markyate. However, by the end of her first year Alison really didn’t like that school, I don’t know the reason, and she moved to another girl’s boarding school, I think it was St.Margaret’s in Surrey.
Berkhamsted was founded in 1541 by Dean Incent, dean of St.Paul’s cathedral. A former headmaster was the father of Graham Greene (who was not a happy pupil). Also “Lord HawHaw”, who was on German radio during the second world war. Contemporaries were lone round-the-world yachtsman Robin Knox-Johnston (I was friends of his younger brother) and Richard Mabey, the naturalist, author and depressive.
One of the boys in my year and house was Robert Proops, son of Marjorie Proops the famous Daily Mirror agony journalist. He was teases mercilessly about this, particularly as (at the beginning) she sent him a letter every day in pink envelopes and writing paper. Post was delivered early and on time in those days, and after breakfast the letters would be laid out on a desk in the Old Hall and everyone would crowd round to see if they had any, so a pink envelope for Proops always caused cries of derision.
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I was in School House, which was in the original building to the left of the lych-gate entrance. This was divided into Uppers and Lowers, depending on which level the dormitory was on. The central hall was about 16m x 60m. It had 4 desks along one side, and 4 rows of combine benches/writing-surfaces opposite. As a new-boy you had your place at the left hand of the front row, and you moved through to the back row s you progressed through school until you were a prefect, when you had your own common room. The Old Hall was the centre of all activity, and in the evenings you had a couple of hours of prep, where you all sat in your place supervise be prefects sitting at the desks. There were St.Johns and Incents, two other boarding houses on the road up to the playing fields. These boarding houses have since been renamed and re-sited. The playing fields were a half mile up the hill on the other side of town.
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As you got to the lower and upper sixth forms you were made a prefect. But I never was. Obviously I noticed and resented this, but it never occurred to me to ask the housemaster why. I liked him, and when he left to become headmaster of a school in Kenya he told me I was the only boy that in his experience he had never heard to utter the word “Sir”.
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School house was divided into Uppers (green and white striped rugby shirts) and Lowers (light blue and black), depending on whether your dormitory was on the first or second floor. In my first year I was in a bed next to Nigel Messenger, and we used to have long discussions after lights-out. But then, for some reason, we stopped being friends, and he became an awful prig and head-boy (which must have given him great satisfaction, as I was denied even prefect-ship).
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There was the “Night of the Long Knives” when I was about 15-16. During prep one boy after another in my year (say 8 out of 12) was called in to the headmaster’s (not the housemaster’s) study, all very mysteriously. They were my friends. It transpired (there was no announcement) that there had been heavy and serious homosexual activity. But the thing was, I knew nothing at all about it. It had been going on right under my nose, and I had not noticed it. I remember once, in the spiral staircase, a boy had grabbed me and whispered “kiss me!” urgently, but apart from that nothing. I think I was quite attractive-looking, and these were my friends, so in a way I felt left-out. But I think that’s like it is in real life, homosexuals know who is one of them and who isn’t, and if you’re not one of them you are quite unaware of the parallel homosexual life and activity which is going on around you. Another aspect, which seems to be true of much young life, is that you very soon get over something and stop worrying about it. Life with my friends soon got back to normal, and one neither mentioned it nor ever thought bringing it up. Perhaps one was aware of the fast changes everyone was going through, and you didn’t hold anyone responsible for things you did a short while ago. I think, on reflection, that Amber has kept that much more than me, and me rather more than a lot of people.
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They had the CCF, Combined Cadet Force, at Berkhamsted, and I was in it for a while. We had uniforms, marched around for a bit, a go in the school shooting range, which was fun, and an annual “field day” when we were given 3 rounds of blank ammunitions to play soldiers up on the common. The alternative, probably for Quakers, was the scouts, which were regarded as sissy. Eventually I was taken out of the CCF. I don’t remember any drama, and I hadn’t done anything wrong, but I was the only boy out of the CCF or scouts. I didn’t particularly mind, and I was given odd jobs to do while the CCF paraded. I never saw school reports, perhaps they might have given me a clue.