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THE LAST
OF THE OLD BRIGADE
(Editorial
in 1967 Grammarian)
by Fergus
Clunie-Deputy Head Boy
Suva Grammar
School has been a way of life for us. for the past eight years - and
looking back we are shocked to find that maybe it wasn't so bad and
we grudgingly admit it, whilst dreaming of what the future will bring.
I guess we are the last of the old "Boy's Grammar" veterans,
who spent so many happy hours hurling stones over the sea-wall, or raiding
Snake's peanut baskets as he screamed to "make it line!" or
rolling tyres around the playing field, or even remarking on the dead
cat washed up by the last tide. A veritable small boy's paradise, except
that the cane was plied far more frequently then than of late and detention
was always held after school, and the prefects could make you pull the
roller round the tennis courts. Imagine the horror of us youngsters
(the senior boys complained, but I'm not sure how genuinely) to find
that we were going to be shifted to a school with GIRLS in it!
And we were.
And Suva Grammar was made of cement, not wood, and was very big, and
worst of all there really were GIRLS. It really wasn't such a grand
place then - the swimming pool was a hill, the fields a tangle of paragrass
and sensitive plant, and there was no sea-wall to toss stones over,
and when Snake came to sell his peanuts he got chased away because there
was a tuck-shop. But there were long corridors to run down. And we did
see them blow up the old searchlight posts with dynamite. And the buses
could race better too.
Suddenly
there was a swimming pool and all the bulldozers which made work impossible
bid us a sad farewell, and now we had to eat our lunch alongside the
hall, not in the field, and Froggy caned half of us for throwing papers
and yelling at lady teachers. And someone cut the grass so we could
play rugby in the mud and sensitive plants. And if we played around
with a fire-hose Jimmy dragged us off to Mr. Webb, who was second only
to God, or maybe even equal to Him. And girls weren't really so bad
as we didn't get canned half as much - and well, maybe they weren't
so bad after all.
Before we
knew it were in Form 3 we realised that we weren't quite so grand as
we used to be. For the kings of the primary are the dregs of secondary,
and the bullies became bullied, and instead of being the biggest on
the sports field we were the smallest, which hurt.
And then
we were sitting for exams which needed a bit of cramming - which made
it more work and less fun, but everyone still played around. And we
thought we were the greatest, only now we can see we weren't such great
shakes and prefer to forget numerous indicents. And the Form 2 pupils,
who were once so huge, suddenly became "little rats,' and remained
so, especially for those of us who got badges stuck on us and were told
to stroll around putting people in detention, which was not so much
fun as it sounded. And we had to stand in front of the tuckshop line,
smelling food but not eating it, and not play the fool any more - or
not to be seen doing it. And in between we had to work, and we joked
about outside exams although in our hearts they weren't quite such hilarious
things, and everyone reckoned that they'd failed every exam they sat,
which was true in some cases.
One day
we suddenly realised that it was nearly over and most of us were thinking
that we'd better decide what to do in 1968 or we'd miss the boat.But
half of us couldn't think what, so said, "What the hell, it'll
work out by itself", and it did. And we still cursed the place
but also felt a little sad. And we still swore about the teachers, but
realised they were human beings who didn't cane us, just for the fun
of it - and we hadn't been caned for years. And being senior pupils
is queer, for just the other day seniors were a queer heroic species
who actually liked girls. Then one day we'll walk out of the classroom
and won't come back. And we'll scatter to the four corners of the earth,
and the next thing you'll hear of us is we're married or something equally
ridiculous, and the "little rats" will be the kings of the
castle, and it will seem a little strange and slightly sad.
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