So many memories! One to go start with is that ,as a South-African born ex serviceman’s daughter ,I was indignant when my classmates at Little Furze PrimarySchool refused to believe that I was ‘South African’ as I was not black. In this day of precious i.d. documents I find it hard to believe that my mum allowed me to bring my birth certificate to school to prove my origin. It must have worked as no one contradicted me from then on.
I also recall the school lunches & one day finding a spider in my steamed pudding & being stood over by the duty teacher & made to eat around the creature. Ugh!
Mr Corteel is a teacher I recall.Young & kind, he dealt wisely with me, a petrified 9 year old who had flicked a blotting paper pellet at the boy 2 desks in front, hitting him on the neck, but was too terrified to confess. My attempt at partial truth would have convinced no adult (I had MADE the pellet but had not flicked it, someone must have found it & THEY must have flicked it!)
Feigning illness I went home at lunch time, surprising Mum & giving her the same story. I suspect she phoned the school as when I returned after lunch, I can remember that Mr C let the matter drop. I will never forget the fear though!
I remember the Yeomans, Bobby Freeman, the Merrills, Nangles & Angels, all neighbours at Ashburnham Close.The marvellous ex golf course opposite & playing in the woods. Wonderful memories!