Belmont
Memories Part Eight,
click the links or spool down the page. by Geoff Garvey.
For Belmont Memories Part One, Belmont Memories Part Two,
Belmont Memories Part Three
, Belmont Memories Part Four,
Belmont Memories Part Five,
Belmont
Memories Part Six , Belmont
Memories Part Seven, Belmont
Memories Part Eight,
click the links or spool down the page.
In Part seven in his series of Belmont Memories, a vivid picture of wartime life from the perspective of a Belmont Boy nearly sixty years ago.
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Belmont Memories Part One
On New Year's Day in 1939, I reached the ripe old age of 10, and within a week or so joined my brother at the Benedictine boarding school of Belmont Abbey in Hereford, England. He was five plus years older than me, and made it clear that at school we were not necessarily to behave as if we were from the same family. I had a broad Lancashire accent whereas he had acquired a more genteel intonation and regarded my presence as a challenge! My first impression was that this seemed to be a reasonable place and with new-found friends walked down the path toward the cricket field. As we approached the cricket pavilion, the door burst open and about five or six older boys rushed upon us waving cricket stumps. We fled, but not before several stumps were cast our way and some found a mark. The "bullying" of the new boys had begun. |
The leader of the pack was a boy nicknamed 'Ginger' whose modus operandi
seemed to be to live on the edge as we say today. Nothing was too daring, nothing too challenging but that he
would try it and then badger the rest of us to follow. We lived in some dread of his approach. He was reported to have walked on the top of the battlements
surrounding the Abbey Tower for a bet.... a sheer drop of over 150 feet on
either side. One of his accomplices
was a boy named Smothers who had had the misfortune to contract polio and whose
left leg was encased in the then familiar irons.
He was a restless soul full of energy and made up for his disability by
clanking up and down the area at break-neck speed. He was an American, and distinguished himself by spreading
strawberry jam on top of his kippers at breakfast! It was reputed that his father was a correspondent for an
American newspaper and was later kicked out of Italy for reporting adversely on
the Mussolini regime.
The first term of passed quickly enough, with the regimen of boarding
school and church activities intertwined. We
shared the refectory with the monks and our mid-day and evening meals and
actions were dictated by their rule. Grace
was intoned in plain chant and we became accustomed to the music.
It was quite calming and particularly impressive when they proceeded
chanting whilst leaving the refectory through the cloisters at lunch time to
continue prayers of the Divine Office in the Abbey.
My first term ended with participation in the rites of Easter singing in
a small choir the plain chant of the 'Missa de Angelis" in combination with
the monks. The introduction to the
Holy Week ceremonies with all the splendour of the Benedictine tradition in
liturgy was really spell-binding. Unfortunately,
being in Latin, not much was understood, but the richness of the liturgy itself
seemed to overtake that drawback. One
should note here that the Abbot at the time was Dom.
Romauld, to us a very formidable figure who seemed to be about six-foot
six tall and six foot around. Doubtless
our comparative size added to the effect. Anyway,
he seemed to delight in Pontifical celebrations... the longer the better. After
one rather exhausting session he was finally leaving the altar.
The special gold and silver crucifix led the procession flanked by
appropriate acolytes and preceded by two thurifers in tandem sending layers of
incense into the air. Behind, came
the monks, two-by-two, hoods/cowls up and solemn faced.
Then the bougia bearer, the mitre bearer, the crozier bearer, two Masters
of Ceremonies, the two Cantors wearing magnificent 17th century copes,
sub-deacon, deacon and last but not least, the Abbot.
The organ voluntary provided a magnificent and fitting accompaniment,
played with gusto by either Bro. Aloysius
or Bro Sebastian.
The Abbot was imparting his blessing en route turning from side to side
to cover all bases. Suddenly, incredulously at first, and then with mounting
recognition, the popular tune of "Little man you've had a busy day!' weaved
in and out of the main theme, and smiles it up the faces of the monks, soft
guffaws echoed round the church, and all but the Abbot, who had no idea what was
up, were wreathed in smiles. Doubtless
Br. Organist had bread and water for
meals!
The second term in 1939 dawned in the shadow of crisis, and obviously our
masters and priests were preoccupied. Universal conscription was introduced in
April and events in the mainland of Europe drove planning for war to the
forefront. We left for the summer
holidays in some hope that all would be well.
The summer holidays of 1939 were over shadowed by the events evolving in
the European mainland, and as return to school approached in September it was
clear that life would be different. Reserves
and the Territorial Army were called up... some never to return for five years.
Gas masks were being distributed and talk of blackouts and air raid
precautions pre-dominated the adult world.
As a ten-year old all this was exciting... the adults were occupied and
we were consequently somewhat free to pursue games and be on our own.
Then we heard that Germany had invaded Poland on 1 September 1939, and on
Sunday, 3 September at 11.00 we heard a solemn Prime Minister Neville
Chamberlain declare war and state that "it was the evil things we fight
against."
Right after hearing this speech on the radio, I made haste to Woolworth's
where black paper was being sold to conform with the new requirement to
eliminate any escape of light from windows in our homes at night. I was
small enough to worm my way into the front of the queue and cute enough to be
given more than the "ration" so I made out likes a bandit when I got
home. Our excitement was increased
when it was announced that large numbers (many thousands) of children evacuees
would be coming to Blackpool. My mother was a teacher and was immediately impressed as a
billeting officer to cope with the incoming hordes. All arrived first at schools in the neighbourhood because
they had the Facilities, cafeterias, toilet etc to absorb the first impact.
From there, the "impressed teachers" took them to their
assigned billets, all according to a really magnificent plan worked out several
years before the start of the war.
Because mother was a teacher, we were exempt from having children
evacuees, but instead were assigned civil servants from agencies evacuated from
London. These were from the
Ministry of Health, and in fact, the offices never returned to London.
Thus diversification of the UK Government started in World War II
persists to this day! We had and
enjoyed at least two civil servants billeted on us throughout the war and they
became very much part of our family. In addition to the children and civil servants, Blackpool,
also absorbed many thousands of Royal Air Force personnel in training to be
wireless operators and navigators. The
Grand Theatre was set up with a Morse code key on each seat and training began
right there.
The pressure mounted in early September, and Belmont opened its
facilities to any who wished to return early.
Accordingly, my brother Paul and I joined about ten other boys and
enjoyed the relative peace of the Herefordshire countryside for two weeks before
the commencement of the Winter Term on 18 September 1939.
The return to Belmont in early September 1939 provided a two-week period of relative calm and it was rather like being on a camping trip... no school, no formal schedule except for meals and bedtime, and little supervision. We had fun building a rough hut out of logs and covering it with hay near the cricket pitch and this became our headquarters during the day. Swimming in River Wye was also allowed and generally we had a very relaxing time. All this came to an end, however, with the return of the main body of the school augmented by a batch of "new boys;' which made most of us feel like veterans after less than a year at the school.
Several of the students had
already experienced air raids and clued us in on the facts of this phenomenon.
One boy from Clacton-on-sea had witnessed a mine being parachuted which
had obviously been intended to go into the harbour, but which came down on firm
ground with a deafening explosion. We
were eager to hear more and anxious to now how we should act.
The dormitories were still in use, but the basement of the monastery
under the calefactory was designated as an air raid shelter, to which we would
hasten during surprise trial runs during the night or other occasions. This was
a complex of cellars with an earthen floor, in which the very successful Hornby
Club held sway. Gas masks were
mandatory and we trained by wearing them for half-an hour or so doing evening
prep. They made very rude noises
when breathing out, much to our delight. Dom
Hugh Menken gave instructions on the various kinds of gases that might be
encountered and cheerfully explained that the worst of these, nerve gas, had no
defence and we might as well take a deep breath and get it over with!
Blackout precautions became
very strict, and senior boys were assigned the task of enforcing this aspect.
Because of the blackout, the monks shifted their evening and early
morning assemblies to the very large sacristy where the few windows were easily
curtained off. An interesting point
was that the bougia bearer now assumed a more significant role when pontifical
celebrations were in order since it provided a close-up candle light on the
sacramentary that otherwise would have been in the dark!
The Head Master at this
time was Dom. Christopher McNulty,
reputed to be the youngest head master at the time.
He was a warm and friendly and accomplished individual, who ultimately
sought and was commissioned as a chaplain in the RAF. He was little absent minded and the story circulated that
after a particularly scary flight he
was subsequently queried by the pilot as to what he would have done if he had
had to bail out. Dom.
Christopher apparently indicated that he would have taken "this
little handle, twisted it and pushed." Unfortunately he had described the
quick-release system rather than the deployment of the parachute, and it was a
long way down to the ground!
However, this anecdote gets us ahead of our time, inasmuch as Dom. Christopher was destined
to be our headmaster until 1941, at which time he entered the RAF as a Chaplain. It was under
his aegis in the autumn of 1949 that the House system was introduced into the school, with
three houses under the patronage of then Blessed John Kemble; Cantilupe, St. Thomas of
Hereford and St. Ethelbert. Paul Garvey, my brother, was designated the first Captain of
Kemble House, to which I also belonged. It was a sound and prudent policy established early
on that ensured that brothers were assigned to the same house, thus reducing, somewhat,
internecine warfare!
The years 1939 and 1940 also brought an influx of new boys, some from overseas and included six or eight from Poland and others from Austria. This was an interesting addition to the community and the insights they brought of war in Europe were significant. A little incident occurred which showed some of the naievity of our community. There was a Prize Day at Which one Konarski, whose father was the Polish Air Attaché to Great Britain, was an honored guest. The union jack flew proudly from the single flag post on the abbey tower, and some unnamed but ordained member of the community thought it would be a good idea to fly the Polish flag as well, so it was hoisted under the union jack. Fortunately, an Old Boy who was also a Naval officer arrived early on the scene, and pointed out flying the Polish flag beneath the union jack on the same pole meant that Poland was subordinate to the UK!
During the first twelve months or so of the war, several physical changes were introduced into
our school layout that affected day-to-day activities. The senior dormitory became the prep
hall, the junior dormitory a changing room. Sleeping quarters were set up using parlors in the
monastery proper which were designated by House. Into each was built several four-tiered
bunks, double banked, holding eight boys in separate quarters on mattresses saved from the
dormitories. The Parlors were well chosen for this purpose inasmuch as the outer walls were at
least 18 inches thick and the ceilings at least 20 feet high. The windows were sheltered by a
blast wall and the whole concept kept us in virtual safety except from the proverbial direct hit.
The gym-cum-prep hall reverted to gym and assembly usage such as when the end-of-term
plays were performed, or for the nights when we had movies. (Silent and black and white!)
Apart from gas mask drills, we had a reminder of the action in Europe when a large scale map
was put up in the gym, with flags of England, France and Germany showing the positions of
each country's troops. As the so-called "phony War" gave way to the massive German
onslaught in 1940, the flags moved inexorably to the Channel , with the final stand-off at
Dunkirk and St. Valery. When the map came down, it was not unnoticed by us pupils that the
map of England was not substituted
In the early days of the war, the school had a cadet force sponsored by the Royal Air Force. As
Air Cadets, as young as 10 or 11 we learned the principles of flight and eventually went to the
nearby RAE station at Madley to take our first flight in plane! We were placed, five at a time, in De Havilland bi-planes that were used for navigation training, but not before being kitted-out with a parachute and instructions on how
to use it in an emergency. You can imagine the picture... a group of young cadets, with
parachutes dragging on the ground, mounting the planes for their first flight. It was fine,
except when we went over the Malvern hills and the up and down motion made most of us
veryqueasy! It stretches my memory, but believe Dom. Bernard was the OC with then Bro Fabian as a
Flying Officer. We were also given a set of drums, which I and my friends played assiduously
whenever permitted.
One interesting note on our daily meals was that although rationing was fully in place in early 1940, institutions also received some extra items in bulk to expand the menu. It seemed to us that this always took the form of pilchards, and on one memorable occasion, the entire student body refused to eat any more of this offering, and as each plate was filled by the presiding House master, it was passed down the table to be deposited one on top of the other! This was not an organized effort but the meaning was very clear. Dom. Christopher promptly went to the school 'tuck shop' and then into the kitchens area and we ended up with potato crisps and jam sandwiches. This is noted as an indication of his compassionate nature as opposed to adopting more draconian countermeasures.
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The autumn term, or thereabouts, brought some significant changes in the presence of a new master, Captain F.X.Semple, who came to us from the Brompton Oratory; the announcement of Dom. Christopher's acceptance as a Chaplain in the Royal Air Force, and his replacement as Head Master by Dom. Alphege Gleeson. We were already familiar with Dom Alphege, whose MA Honors degree in English from London University, provided an excellent resource for the school curriculum. Capt, Semple, however, was an unknown who was to make his mark as an unbending disciplinarian in the teaching of French and Latin, and ultimately choir Master and also Commanding Officer of the Army Cadet Corps which supplanted the Air Cadet program at Belmont. |
The characteristics of teachers invariably give rise to much discussion among the any student
body and dissecting their minutest idiosyncrasies the source of much diversion. The case of
Capt. Semple was no different. He was, of course, the only male teacher who was not a monk.
His posture was one of the ultimate military, ramrod erect, bristling mustaches, clipped
Speech and daunting fund of knowledge. Precision and timeliness were his hall-marks. He was
fond of riding, and frequently wore jodhpurs and his master's black robes, which sort of
counter-balanced the monks habits. Steeped in classical Latin, he despised the church Latin,
which he maintained was a mongrel form of speech devoid of any redeeming quality. Thus, he
and Dom. Alphege carried on a good-natured exchange of barbed comments at almost every
opportunity. In establishing the ACF, Capt. Semple, later promoted to Major, brought about a significant
change. Whereas the Air Cadet program had been somewhat lapsadasical , the new program
was full of what today we would call "results-focused "goals. Drill, field-craft, map reading and rifle action on the range were all designed to give us a
head start before entering National Service. Not all were happy with the twice a week
sessions, and the comment frequently arose challenging as to what was the difference between
this and the Hitler Youth! However, be that as it may, many found the training invaluable on
the day the draft arrived and the acceptance of former pupils filling the officer ranks was
impressive. Two of the new boys were named Ault, whose father was in the Guards and was
instrumental in several old boys joining that elite force. One such was Rock de Besombes
Major, who joined the Grenadier Guards. Capt. Semple used the time-honored tactic of the English classroom.. sarcasm. I well
remember day-dreaming in class, only to be brought back by his scathing comment
"If
Garvey minor could possibly tear himself away from the reverie in which he finds himself,
perhaps we might learn whether Caesar, in fact, did cross the Rhine!" He also had a line of
logic that I found hard to bear. If any translations were in error, they had to be corrected by
doing them instead of attending the weekly movie show. I would do what I thought were
corrections, but he would forcibly state that since the re-worked sentences were still not
correct, then I hadn't done them!. No credit for the attempt! In this manner, I missed all
Wednesday night shows for a complete term.
One of his many talents that Major Semple shared with us was that of organizing and training
the school choir dedicated to polyphonic sacred music. This was a real asset, singing at the
Sunday high masses and benedictions. The blending of the monks' plain chant and the
school's polyphonic contributions enriched the liturgy, and we were sufficiently recognized
to be asked to perform during a special BBC program.
Major Semple's contributions were significant and as is often the case, his severe attention to
discipline and responsiveness made him one of our mentors that was never forgotten.
Dom. Alphege followed in the foot-steps of Dom. Christopher as being one of the younger, if
not the youngest Head Master of a school such as ours. He was without doubt a brilliant
conversationlist, with a deep love of English literature and most specifically the Victorian era
and all associated therewith It was not long before we used this "weakness" to divert him
into impromtu lectures on the glory of Victorian times, which, of course, ate up whatever class
period was left. Typically we would select someone in the class that was more in his favour
than the rest of us to launch the diversion. This usually fell on Gerald Dean, who would
'innocently' remark that some aspect of Shakespeare we were studying was so much more
attractive than the rather boring Victorians! D. Alphege would take the bait hook, line and
sinker and embark on a half hour lecture on the glories of that age.
Dom Alphege had a really great sense of humour and indulged this in many whimsical asides
during otherwise serious Prefect meetings. He also accepted barbs aimed at himself in good
humour, specifically aimed at his constant lateness for morning mass and failure to remember
Parent's names. To correct the latter, he commenced a strenuous program oftrying to remember names by association albeit by city/town of origin. This ended
in disaster, when at one Prize Day, he called one set of parents "Mr. and Mrs. Manchester",
and another "Mr. and Mrs. Liverpool". From then on, he preferred to have one of the senior
boy alongside to help with correct identification.
In the memory department, he had one noticeable lapse reciting the prayer to St. Michael that
used to be a staple at of the end of Mass. He let forth with a mighty sound the beginning of the
prayer, "0 my God " and then petered into silence! However, among the many heathens in
the school, he was prized for being able to say the fastest and shortest mass. No other monk
could rival him! Unfortunately, this characteristic was off set by his daily late arrival for
morning services. No alarm clock, succession of monks or school students seemed to be able
to move him into the realm of punctuality. (I am reminded of him when one of the recent
pastors of the church I now attend, stated that we should not worry about when the service
started but note that we always got out at the same time!) Needless to say, his sermons, in
which he used his many skills as an English scholar, were excellent.
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Through the initiative of D. Alphege we were able to attend the excellent stage presentations
that were sponsored by the Council for Encouragement of Music and the Arts (CEMA) at the
nearby ammunition factory in Hereford. Day trips to Stratford-on-Avon were also arranged for
those taking the School and Higher School exam. Seeing our "set plays" in a real stage
setting made that part of the exam so much easier. In my senior year, well after the end of the
war, we watched John Guilgud as King Lear in a memorable performance.
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Dom. Alphege also had a concept that it was smart to have at least one "forbidden" fruit that the student body could attempt to enjoy without incurring catastrophic consequences. The chosen instrument in this case was smoking. As he predicted, an enormous amount of energy, planning, forethought and plain trickery absorbed the concentrated attention of those intent on circumventing the "no smoking" rule, that might otherwise have been directed to more serious infractions with dire consequences. Some boys had special ties with little pockets sewn in that could hold a lighter and a couple of cigarettes. Others preferred the "hidden cache" method, where cigarettes and matches or a lighter were sealed in a tin box and hidden in the nearby woods ...usually in rabbit holes! Others, inspired by reading Western cowboy stories had belts with small pockets incorporated therein with the necessary smoking accessories. No end of inventive concepts were employed ... all to keep the prefects from making a "kill" ! The preferred cigarette of choice seemed to be Balkan Sobranies which had an aromatic flavour and odour, no doubt induced by the Turkish tobacco used in their manufacture. However, eventually there was a breakdown in the system . Some "pirates" raided the hidden caches and suddenly everyone was on their own! We
were more that fortunate... indeed blessed .... in the monks that
monitored and guided our lives. Dom. Dennis Mercer was the Kemble House
Master from its inception and
he brought to that task a level of common sense and fairness that was
exceptional. He came from Lancashire and his "no-nonsense"
approach to life was both practical and unassuming. You always knew where
you stood with Dom. Dennis and his pragmatic application of rule and
consequences were well established. He acted as a perfect foil to Dom.
Alphege's more outgoing nature and the two together provided excellent
oversight. There
were, of course, occasions when we could have a laugh at his expense, the
most notable of these being when a gas leak was discovered in the Kemble
air raid dormitory, He climbed the bunks until he was level with the gas
lamp and struck his lighter. An enormous flame shot out and only by quick
action on his part on closing off the supply did a more serious accident
occur! There was another
occasion when he congratulated the school assembly on what appeared to be
a more devotional attitude during High Mass. Unbeknownst
to him, we had just received a fairly large consignment of American cowboy
stories printed in miniature booklets approximately 2x2 inches. Many of us
had cut out a corresponding hole in our prayer books, into which the
booklet fitted very well. Intent on
perusing the latest narrative, we, of course, gave all outward indications
of true devotion.
Dom. Martin Wolfe made his mark among us as the French master for
the junior classes but more prominently as our rugby coach and general
sports director. He was a meticulous referee, clad in the only Belmont Old
Boy's sports coat that I remember seeing, and highly respected among the
various schools with whom we had contact. Rugby in the winter and cricket in the summer kept him in a constant state of motion. One of his chores in the evening hours was supervising the rolling of the cricket pitch. This was done with a monstrously large roller which required a team of about eight or ten boys to move it across the appropriate grass for an hour at a time. The teams were detailed for ten minutes at a time, and extra service for those who were late. There were some memorable games under his tutelage, with our then arch rivals Hereford High School being one. When we played away, our supporters were joined by those from Hereford Cathedral with whom we had much in common. On this particular day, we were not doing too well, and Dom. Hugh, who was bellowing encouragement from the sidelines and pointing out the inadequacies of the Hereford referee in succint terms, was ordered by the ref to cease or he would suspend the game. That, of course, go our collective "goats" up and we put considerably more energy into the game, but unfortunately, with no better results. At half-time, the score was 17-0 against us. Dom. Martin came on the field and quietly told us that we could win this game... and the laid out his strategy and very confidently told us he expected we would win despite some rather dubious calls on the referee's part. To cut a long story short, we reached 17-17 and then scored again in overtime to close with 23-17! The referee walked off in disgust exclaiming to our opponents that he had done his best for them!
The flicks were made possible initially by use of heavy car batteries for the projector. It was not unusual for these to lose power and caused some dismay. Later, Dom.Martin acquired a diesel or petrol generator and keeping this going through the movie was a feat of great note which he accomplished with remarkable goodwill. This entertainment was held in the gym, and despite the problems, we had a lot of fun. Other
members of the community provided instruction and guidance in accordance
with their particular skill. Dom.
Bernard Chambers taught art, but was feared on the rugger field at the
annual school vs monastery game since he would grasp the ball in one hand
and run at full speed with his other hand outstretched, fist clenched,
with every apparent intention to connect with the nose of any intrepid
opponent daring to come within range! Dom.
Francis McLachlan ran the laboratory, at that time in a small room at the
end of the gym. He was probably the kindest and most gentle person I have
ever known, but we boys took advantage of him mercilessly . To end any
chemistry class that was becoming boring, we would put a penny in a
container of nitric acid, and the resulting noxious and dangerous fumes
would cause immediate evacuation of the lab, and of course, cessation of
any class in progress. He would not infrequently walk into a barrage of
chalk being thrown by opposing classmates, and he took it all in the most
calm manner. We really loved Dom. Francis, but we sure had a funny way of
showing it. It was reported that in later
years he would sometimes absentmindedly meander across the field whilst a
rugby game was in progress, thoroughly disrupting it. Perhaps that was his
delayed response to the experiences with the school years beforehand.
Dom. Vincent Fogarty was our mathematics teacher and had an
irritating habit of standing behind you and asking the answer to a
problem, which, if given incorrectly, would cause him to beat on the back
of your head with a pencil. We swore it really was a lead pencil, of the
metallic kind, because it was pretty painful. His constant mantra was:
"I don't teach my boys to forget!" He also tended to teach to
the level of the more receptive body of the class which earned them some
ripe comments and threats after class! We were therefore amazed when he
launched his Sunday evening sessions initiating us into the "Children
of Mary" society. This
was held in one of the common rooms and included prayers and short
meditations by Dom. Vincent, and the invariable claim that the restoration
of the Faith in Wales would start in the Mass center he had established in
nearby Wales where he said Mass each Sunday. He certainly was a man of
faith and this aspect of his character was further enhanced in our eyes
when we discovered he had taken "the pledge" in Ireland and
consequently passed up the opportunity to imbibe on certain Feast Days
when beer and cider was made available to the monks. Another of his tasks,
which he thoroughly enjoyed, was running the junior Kemble Society, a
debating society, based on parliamentary procedures, and
which all members of the junior school were obligated to attend
each week. He was a martinet in insisting on proper protocol during
debates and also made it mandatory for each boy to speak. He would
frequently oblige speakers to support the opposite of their convictions
and thus was a magnificent lesson taught to all of us.... the necessity to
listen to the other side of the argument! Occasionally, he would get a
groundswell of opposition to the format, and on one memorable occasion,
having been compelled to speak, I stood up and said: "Mr. Speaker, I
rise tonight to sit down!" Tumultuous applause from fellow
conspirators did nothing to lessen the effect of a punishment later
delivered for insubordination!. Dom. Vincent directly and indirectly,
through classroom and personal faith inspired many an action in my life at
a later date, which is to say he was a very good man at what he
taught....and he taught more than we knew.
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| BELMONT MEMORIES Part 4 Our days at Belmont followed a very controlled routine from morning till night. Rising was scheduled for 7:00 AM except for those blessed with a chit that gave them a "long sleep" for reasons of health or because of impending "violent exercise" such as a First Fifteen match later in the day. Other exemptions might come from celebrating a holiday or having stayed up late on some project and been granted a long sleep for cause. We became pretty expert at finding excuses, the more so as we grew older, specifically when we would entice Dom. Alphege into a dialog which lasted well into the early hours and then received the desired permission to sleep in. The was not exactly appreciated by Dom. Dennis whose unhappy lot was to wake us all up, a job which was never, ever given to Dom. Alphege because of his inability to get moving in the morning! Between 7:00 and 7:25 we were expected to carry out the normal ablutions, and get in to the gym for assembly and move into the church for Mass. All was done in silence, and despite the few wash basins available, everything went well. After Mass, we were given 15 minutes to make our beds and then, once more, line up in the gym for move to the refectory for breakfast. Now we could talk, and the noise was deafening. We each had a can with our school number painted on it, which contained our ration of sugar, which varied according to the situation during the war and availability of supplies. It was very common for us to barter sugar with those of a sweeter tooth, usually in kind. Also, someone who did not like suet pudding would barter that with another boy for his helping of rice pudding. It was fascinating to watch the re-distribution of food as it proceeded down the table. Breakfast over, we were free for all of fifteen minutes, until assembling in the gym for shoe and hand inspection, prior to starting the morning prep session at 9:00 AM. This was presided over by one of the house masters, whilst all others participated in the conventual Mass in the abbey.
When all was over, the routine of the school once more asserted itself, and we filed into tea and then an
evening prep session. Supper was held with the monastic community and once more we
One enterprising individual,
remembering what little he had learned from chemistry class, entered the laboratory and
placed a stick of phosphorous in a jar of water, and at the appropriate moment smashed
it in front of the advancing returnees. A cloud of noxious and very dangerous gas was |
| Belmont Memories
Part 5
A constant concern during the war was the ability to provide a diet that was both
nutritious and varied. To help provide some variety, it fell on Bro. Peter Jones to leam the
ways of the farmer which he did in short order. He diligently ploughed the field next to
the cricket pitch but unfortunately produced vegetables that were not exactly appreciated,
the soil being so poor that the result was a very bitter kale. His next project was to
produce a fairly abundant source of eggs using either ducks or geese. The problem here
was they fed on the slops left over from meals which frequently contained beets, causing
the "egg whites" to turn purple! They were also much stronger tasting that chicken eggs, |
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At one stage during the war, it was decided to form an Auxiliary
Fire Service (AFS) unit to be manned exclusively by the monks. The leader
of this enterprise was Dom. Hugh Menken, and it was believed to be the
only AFS unit of its kind in the UK. We were delighted when the alarm bell
would ring out and Dom. Hugh, our history master, and other masters would
rush out of the classroom, don their firemen's uniform and sally forth to
answer the call It soon transpired that this unit was called out in
preference to the main station which we students heartedly endorsed.
On one memorable occasion during the time of the De Backer raids,
we were without the
full teaching team for three days as they battled fires in
Weston-super-Mare. Then one evening, as monks and students were assembling
in the refectory for supper an enormous explosion
was followed by a blast that flung open the oak doors of the refectory and
shook the entire building. It turned out that a single German bomber,
either by luck or excellent navigation, dropped its load on the major
ordnance/ammunition factory on the outskirts of Hereford. Although several
miles away, the blast reached Belmont as only blast does... quite
independent of the focus of the explosion. The Belmont AFS sprang into
action and joined the team fighting the main fires. They were given the
task of cooling down a large pile of40001b bombs which were in danger of
"cooking off" and adding to the devastation and casualties. The
story is told that Dom. Hugh volunteered the Belmont AFS to do this task
"as we don't have any dependents!". Apparently one member of the
team demurred only to be tweaked on the ear by Dom. Hugh and urged to get
with it!
During its time, the Belmont AFS won numerous award for expertise
and demonstration
of excellence in various fire drill competitions. But the day finally came
when the unit was closed down and had to return their equipment to the
main station. Once again, a story circulated round the school, that one
monk, who shall remain nameless, insisted on being able to drive the fire
equipment on its final run. There was some misgiving within the rest of
the crew since he was not exactly well coordinated. However, he was
allowed to take the helm and did quite well until he reached the bridge
over River Wye where he promptly rammed into one of the abutments to the
chagrin of his colleagues! As
the war progressed, the fields around Belmont would occasionally echo with
the sounds
of opera and especially extracts from well-known arias. This was courtesy
of numerous Italian POWs who worked in the farms during planting and
harvesting seasons, under a program that allowed POWs to volunteer for
this kind of work. They were generally regarded as "trustees"
and would be dropped off at some central point and then re-assemble there
for pick up and the end of the day. The farmers were very glad to have
such labour for free and the POWs obviously preferred it to incarceration.
Later, the Italian POWs were supplanted by German POWs, who did not sing
and who worked most diligently thus earning significant praise from the
farming community. Our abbot at the time, Dom. Aidan Williams, was fluent
in German and would bring some of the POWs into church for Mass and other
spiritual exercises.
The presence of these POWs was clear evidence to us that the war
was progressing well
for the allies and our physical arrangements at school reflected this. We
no longer occupied the monastery parlors which had been reinforced for use
as sleeping quarters, and the former senior and junior dormitories were
restored to their proper use. The prep or assembly room was set up in the
monastery library, whilst the books and shelves were moved into the
cloisters. The Gym was therefore available for PT, plays and other
activities requiring space inside. The occupation of the library dissolved
the myths of ghosts lurking in the many tomes, and deprived us of one of
our typical dares to new boys to spend time in there without the lights!.
Actually, I well remember one wet and chilly day spending time in there
with a group looking at a volume of Mrs. Beaton's cook books. Recipes such
as.... "take a dozen eggs and two pounds of butter—etc..."
stroked our imaginations of feasts to come, as did going through the few
American magazines we had showing advertisments for steaks and other
goodies!
The preparations for the invasion of Europe made its impact on the
sleepy city of Hereford
and surrounding areas during the latter part of 1943 and early 1944. Where
sheep and cattle filled the roads on market day, now American tanks and
artillery squeezed and jostled their way through the narrow streets,
deftly avoiding both animals and surrounding buildings. The artillery had
a particularly difficult time especially the 155mm gun/howitzers,
nick-named "long Toms " because of the length of their barrels.
These artillery pieces were very difficult to manoeuvre through streets
that ended in right-angle turns but manoeuvre they did. The Sherman tanks
were interesting to us because they hadrubber covering the metal tracks
and ran comparatively silently compared with our British counter-parts. As
one particular armoured column passed near the school we were showered
with candy which was much appreciated. The US troops who watched us play
rugby were astonished that we did not use protective gear as in American
football, but we pointed out that you could only tackle a man that had the
ball so you were smart to get rid of it! On another occasion, an American
officer asked to be shown around Hereford Cathedral and when informed that
it was once Catholic and that a Benedictine monastery was
near by, wanted to know why we didn't just "one day come down here
and take the place
back!" There was no time to explain the past several-hundred-year
history of England!
Sometime during early May 1944, we got a forceful reminder that the
invasion of Europe
was soon to take place. Sometime after midnight, we were awakened by the
reverberating sound of what seemed like hundreds of planes flying at low
level. We got up, looked through the windows and saw the incredible sight
of twenty or thirty planes flying abreast with full navigation lights on.
We had not seen a plane fly this way since the imposition of the black-out
and it looked for all the world like a an enormous Christmas decoration
moving slowly across the blackened sky. Then came the real shocker, each
plane was towing a large glider of the kind designed for landing troops or
armoured vehicles. The next surprise was that as soon as this group passed
overhead, another similar flight of planes could be seen coming the same
way. This went on for about twenty minutes, and each flight appeared to be
using the Black Mountains as a point to turn eastwards. We never did find
out if this was a practice run or some diversionary tactic.
On Tuesday, 6 June 1944, at about 9:15am, Otto Herschan burst into
our classroom and
told us that the invasion of Europe had begun with landings in France. It
was a defining moment in all our lives and the sense that we were
gradually approaching the point at which the end of the war might actually
occur was the overwhelming sentiment. At that moment, we were not to know
of the battles yet to be fought nor of the horrors to be uncovered, but
the way the end now seemed closer.
Two days later, I visited the General Hospital in Hereford, where I
was told some casualties
of the landings in France we recovering from their wounds. I was allowed
to go to the soldier's ward and there chatted with four or five men. They
had landed in gliders in France and showed some of the equipment they had
for escape and evasion. A compass was hidden in a tunic button, and each
had silk scarves with a detailed map of northern France imprinted on them.
These soldiers had been wounded on 6 June and by 8 June had been evacuated
and placed in the hospital at Hereford, a noteworthy effort in a time when
helicopters were only a gleam m someone's eye! |
BELMONT MEMORIES
Part Seven
Now we 'fast-forward'to May 1945. For weeks, the imminent collapse of Germany
and the end of the war in Europe was at hand. We were told that when that event
occurred, the Union Jack would be hoisted on the Abbey tower, and an immediate
assembly would occur of the whole school in the church to celebrate a short service of
thanks giving. We were therefore primed as to what to expect and anticipation rose with
the expectation of the end of the war in Europe. In preparation we built a huge bonfire in
the paddock, for the end of the war would mean the lifting of the blackout.
About this time, about twenty or thirty American army chaplains descended on Belmont
for a three-day retreat, complete with jeeps, drivers and assorted troops. They settled into
their spiritual exercises, and we paid little attention to each other than to note their
presence.
We pursued our usual school routine, which included the weekly Army Cadet Force
(ACF) parade, and marched smartly off to our different activities. It was on the return to
the Abbey, that day, on 8 May 1945, that we saw the Union Jack flying from the masthead
and knew the war in Europe was over. The cheers that rang through the school were
spontaneous and heartfelt. Everyone had been affected by the war, either by bombing or
watching older boys moving into the Services; or hearing of brothers or fathers in fatal
combat. The convergence in the Abbey church was prompt and enthusiastic. Dom
Alphege had prepared a short service which concluded with that magnificent hymn; "For
all the Saints", which can never again be heard by me without recalling the poignancy of
that day.
All school events were suspended, and we gloried in the feeling that this was a really
great day. Our American friends, encamped for their retreat, turned out to be a bonus,
and for the rest of the day, scores of boys were given rides in jeeps by willing drivers
anxious to celebrate with us. In the evening, we lit the bon fire. It was momentous for us,
and the rest of the country, to be able to do this simple act of celebration without regard
to blackout regulations or fear of bombs. Peace was finally in our grasp.
But, in reality, the end had yet to come. Many in the school came from areas where
the preponderance of soldiers were in the Indian and Burma theatre of operations. There
were some who remembered this and in the midst of their joy, prayed for those still in
harms' way in the Far East.
At the end of the summer term, the annual cadet force encampment took place in Tenby,
South Wales. This is a seaside resort with beautiful stretches of beaches and our tents
were located amongst the sand dunes not far from the sea. This week was the height of
the holiday period and soon civilian tents began to encroach upon the rather pristine lines
of our military bivouacs, a fact that was noted with some joy among the senior NCO's
since these tents were occupied by young ladies unfettered by traditional deportment. It
was noted with some glee, that they would frequently bring lanterns into their tents and
don swimsuits with a silhouette reflecting their progress to all throughout the camp!
The camp was not restricted to members from Belmont, and several schools from other
Hereford areas also had detachments, and we were not exactly regarded in a friendly way
by some of their members. Without doubt, we were regarded as snobs and intruders and
maintained a careful watch over our 'territory'. We determined, however, to exceed in all
areas of a competitive nature and ultimately won recognition as the best. Our
commanding officer. Major F.X. Semple, put it neatly, when he said: "Your have won
the respect of those who count, and put the fear of God into those who don't!" (I echoed
these same sentiments many hears later in Korea after my unit had overcome a significant
challenge).
|
|
Two events stand out from this stay in Tenby. First, Major Semple arranged for us to
take a boat trip to Caldey Island, several miles off the coast of South Wales. When we
landed, we were amazed at the mass of fushia bushes bathing the whole place in glorious
color. Then we entered the Cistercian monastery located there and enjoyed a great meal
which was totally vegetarian, and learned that the monks had sent two of their number to a ritzy hotel in Mayfair, London to leam how to cook!. This was the monastery that had changed from the Anglican to the Roman church and now followed the rule of St. Benedict with the Catholic Church. |
Another event that stands out from the stay in Tenby, was interesting. In the middle of
the afternoon, there was a call from the regular army component for their NCO's to report
immediately to the Adjutant for a sweep of the nearby sand dunes to recover mortar
bombs that might have failed to explode and lay in the sand. This was occasioned by the
encroachment of the civilian campers into the area and the fear of casualties. A fair
number of the regular NCO's left camp in a hurry, knowing demobilization was a few
weeks away and not willing to take a risk. So, probably without much thought, the
powers that be extended the invitation to the Cadet force NCO's and many of us
responded. I remember vividly feeling my heel scrap on the tail fin of a 2 inch mortar and
scooping it out and proudly taking it to the collection point. Stupid! As I found out later,
this was not a smart thing to do!
This was the last camp that we attended, as the war was winding down and the necessity
for this kind of training was diminished.
Belmont
Memories Part Eight
With the conclusion of the ACF camp at Tenby, Wales, we commenced our
summer vacation and returned to our respective homes. The excitement of the end
of the war in Europe died down with the realization of the impending task of
defeating Japan. Many rules and regulations were relaxed, and travel became a
little easier, but the knowledge that many soldiers from the north of England were
still in action in the Far East dampened the exuberance of many in that part of
England. Rationing, of course, was still with us, and commodities such as potatoes,
which were not actually rationed, became scarcer.
In July 1945, after defeat in a general election, Winston Churchill resigned as
Prime Minister and was succeeded by Clement Atlee. The portents for change were
everywhere, but nothing fulfilled that condition more than the announcement of
the dropping of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima, on 6 August 1945, followed three
days later by a similar attack on Nagasaki, Japan. The horrendous and cataclysmic
obliteration of whole cities and their populations would not truly enter the
consciousness of the world until much later. For now, there was universal
jubilation that World War II had finally ended.
Against this background, we returned to Belmont for the new school year in
September 1945, with mounting enthusiasm. Things were different....no blackout,
no gas-mask drills, no trips to the shelter in the basement of the monastery and yet
we still had the National Service Act in effect which would draw many of us into
harms' way in the not too distant future. So we followed the news with an eye as to
where we might end up. In India, Palestine, Malaya and sundry other places
where the Empire was now preparing to leave either voluntarily or under duress.
One aspect of National Service that concerned us was the Government's plan to
take a portion of the conscripts and send them down the coal mines which were
extremely understaffed and therefore unable to meet production quotas. The
selection was based on the last number in your registration card. Thus we were
more than anxious to find which number was up for the time at which we might go
into service. This was selected randomly, and some very weird consequences resulted
with totally unsuitable candidates being "impressed" into coal mining employment.
The concept did not last for long and was abandoned by the Government as
unworkable. (Registration of men was required at attaining 16 years, but "call up "
might not occur until reaching 18 years). Another alternative offered by the
Government for those required to answer the call for National Service was to
volunteer for the Palestine Police. From 1945 till the establishment of the State of
Israel in 1947/48 this was not without risk!
In general, however, the dominant theme was to return to normalcy and the daily
routine at Belmont reflected this concept. Entering into the world of the Lower VI
was quite an experience. No longer were we tied to the daily routine of instruction
in nine subjects, but embraced the Higher School Certificate curriculum with its
emphasis on one key subject and two subsidiaries. This meant we were virtually
tutored and the class consisted of no more than four or five students. We had access
to the monastery library and an abundance of time in which to study. This,
however, was not the most attractive option and we tended to follow more
"pleasant" pastimes related to rugby, the Cadet Force and sundry visits to Hereford
which was within our "bounds" as seniors. Dom. Hugh Menken assumed the
burden... and I do mean burden... of inculcating some semblance of history in our
daily tutorials and Dom. Alphege assumed responsibility for English and Scripture
studies. It was all very pleasant since as senior boys and prefects we pretty much
determined our own daily routine. But the day-today spiritual side of life
continued as before, with attendance at daily Mass and participation in the liturgy
as either choir members or altar servers, particularly at the Pontifical ceremonies
associated with special Feast Days.
The years 1946 through 1947 passed in what seemed like lightning speed. The new
chemistry lab was erected and other improvements in the school structure were
phased in after interminable meetings with the government authorities whose
function seemed to be to deny any building materials to educational facilities. The
time finally arrived for my group when we had to face the Higher School Certificate
exam, in my case for the second time. Dom. Hugh so dispaired of my intellectual
abilities as to state in my final school report, "that as he had seen virtually nothing
that this boy had produced in the past two years it was inevitable that he would fail
the exam. " I agreed with his summation and was therefore astonished on receiving
a telegram in September from Dom Alphege announcing that I had passed the
Higher!
There was at this time a program whereby one could accelerate entry into the
Services rather than waiting for the eventual draft and I immediately signed up. I
was ordered to report to 30 Primary Training Center (PTC) on 18 September 1947
which was coincidentally the same date as the start of the new term at Belmont. I
traveled the 20 miles to Preston in the company of some new boys bound for
Belmont and bid them a cheerful farewell with only a slight twinge of nostalgia. I
felt ready for the new adventure, one which would take me to Germany, Korea and
eventually, eight years later, to an invitation to attend an investiture at
Buckingham Palace.
Geoff Garvey writes about his Army Days after
leaving Belmont Abbey.
