William George "George" Rebbeck 1901 - 1994

Eldest son of Sydney Francis Rebbeck and Emily Coombes Rebbeck

Recollections of Bygone Days part 5

1960
I cannot recall the exact date these events took place. At that time we had a Ford "Popular" and with us were Mike and David. We were passing the west end of Ascot racecourse on our way down to Portsmouth. There was a fine drizzle which had made the road greasy. A wide grass verge in front of a low hedge was broken by a five-barred gate and exit. A man and a woman had opened the gate and pushed their bicycles through. They walked about half way across the verge and then the woman straddled her bike to mount woman wise. Gran'ma was feeling around on the car for a dropped wrapped sweet and she didn't realise what was happening. I exclaimed "look what this damn fool woman is doing! but by then she had done it. She jumped on the pedal at the height of it's turn and shot forward into the traffic stream. We were about 20 yards back but she shot straight into the path of a 'Rover' car who pulled up quite quickly considering the state of the road. I stopped and ran across to the woman. She was bleeding from a big gash on her forehead but the car behind me was a doctor's and he took charge. In no time it seemed things happened. It was well in the stockbroker belt and the lady of the house appeared with a maidservant, bowl of water and towel. An ambulance appeared as if by magic and parked in a turning adjacent, then a very rural looking policeman on a bike, then the women's husband and son-in-law on bicycles. The son-in-law wasn't all that sympathetic.

He said "she's been asking for trouble for ages. When she's on that bike she thinks she's Boadicea".

The young copper didn't seem to know what he was to do, so as it was beginning to rain unpleasantly I suggested that we get into the shelter of the ambulance and I as chief witness would give him an eyewitness account, which I did and signed. I don't think he'd ever had a case on his own before. I suggested that he got a statement from the driver of the Rover and at least ascertained the details of the victim. In my own statement I quoted several vital distances, by my estimation. There was a sequel. Some months later I received a letter from some solicitors who were acting on behalf of the woman. Would I be so kind as to fill in the details on the enclosed form? I sent the form back unanswered and enclosed a note to say the information they required I had already given to the local police who would no doubt supply a copy for the usual fee. After the lapse of time I had no Intention of supplying information that might conflict with that previously given. That was what they were after, I don't doubt.

1961
This little happening surprised me as much as anyone else. The staff meeting was unexpected but the attitude of the headmaster was tense. He at least was very disturbed. It would appear that on certain days the cast of the school pantomime brought their tea and carried on rehearsing until about 7 o'clock. Many of them had to cross the brick-fields and allotments and, boys being boys and girls being girls, things would appear to have got out of hand somewhat. The caretaker's granddaughter was involved against her will and reported it to her grandpa. He reported it as once to the headmaster who, In his first school, had visions of "News of the World" headlines. The grandfather involved was the school caretaker. Having given us such few details as were known the matter was thrown open for discussion. Everybody seemed tongue-tied so I decided to wade in even if angels were afraid to tread. I suggested that a few words with some of the quieter ones might enlighten us. I also thought that there could be safety in numbers - It's when you see one boy and one girl going behind the brick-kiln that you anticipate things. There were a few comments from the fifteen assembled and then, without any warning everything erupted. The head summed up (I think his panic had subsided) that our P.T. master would talk to the senior boys involved and the senior girls would be talked to by miss 'D', the senior mistress.

"Never on your life" I cried as I sprang to my feet. "That's a job for a married woman. There are four on the staff who have raised or are raising families. Surely one of them would undertake the task."

Miss 'D' sprang to her feet crying "I'll resign, I'll resign"

Rudely I replied, "I don't give a tuppenny dam' what you do. All I know is that if I wanted to know about Australia I'd ask somebody who'd been there. These girls, many of them real country gal's will say 'what does she know about it ? And if she does she shouldn't.'."

Whereupon the meeting broke up and to this day I don't know who undertook the task of enlightening a number of already well informed young country lasses.

There was a sequel or tailpiece for as we were preparing to go to bed that night, about 11.0 p.m. there was a knock on the window. It was Casie our PT man. He had been at evening classes and talking to Peter Arnold and they said that they felt that they'd both let me down at the staff meeting, they should have backed me up. I didn't feel let down at all. We didn't like the lady at all - she carried tales to the headmaster and she was unprofessionally rude to somebody who came to help out when we were short staffed. Not knowing what to expect in the morning, I compiled a list of misdemeanours, fourteen in all, ready to do battle. It was not required. All I had to do was assure him that the action was spontaneous and not prearranged and for a long time, from all quarters, Sheringham, North Walsham and Aylesham, I used to find anything synonymous with "sexy" was "going to Australia". The lady did resign, from that moment.

1963
It's time I found something of interest in the football world. When our original PT teacher Mr Osborne, otherwise known as Ossie, left for a head-ship, we had no-one to represent us on the East Norfolk Schools' F.A. so I was only too pleased, as I had transport to attend the meetings at North Walsham. After attending about my fourth meeting the secretary announced before a meeting that as the vice chairman had left the county we would need a new vice chairman. There was the usual pause then somebody said "How about Mr Rebbeck?"

At once a voice said "I second that any other proposals?"

None. And of the assembled 17 headmasters or PT blokes I didn't know more than half a dozen, but I'd let myself in for something as the chairman was in everything and rarely attended away matches. As a result I had the job, the onerous one of making speeches after the matches - if our side won, as they sometimes did, it was necessary to be sympathetic and if we lost we explained that we didn't really come for the football, the tea was the thing. It was a splendid meal they had just given us and put them right at the top of the tea league, greatly appreciated by young men, whose usual fare was turnips or mangel wurzels with an occasional poached pheasant.

One outing was a noteworthy one, I don't remember who we were going to play but I believe it was Newham (East and West Ham) Whilst still In Norfolk on a modernised road with small concrete edges a small trades van was guilty of some very bad driving. He cut across in front of us overtaking an oldish Ford Prefect which swerved, hit the edging, turned over on to it's door handles and skidded to a halt. Our coach stopped at once and everybody piled out. The driver wound his windows down in the Ford and began passing out his passengers. The first one was a little boy about four years old, very near to tears. George Howard, our secretary looked round and passed him over to me saying, "here you are, Grandpa, look after this one."

I did. I don't think it took me more than two minutes to have him laughing at the silly old car that got tired and lay down to have a rest. In the meantime the driver and his wife and little girl had been helped out, leaving Gran'ma, a somewhat portly problem. Several people tried to hoist her out and then an old headmaster, whose surname I forget but whose name was "Redvers"(no doubt after Sir Redvers Butler, a well known I8th century general),said he'd try. He advanced to the car, bent over the front door and hey-presto, the lady shot out like a champagne cork. Afterwards when we asked him how he'd done it he grinned and said "a little psychology, some physiology and a wide knowledge of human nature."

She was stuck in the window of the back door so I slid my arm In the front window and nipped her bottom. It certainly worked.

1963
On one occasion having further to travel I was the last one up to the staff room at morning break. Everyone was crowded round the window which faced a row of fairly new houses served by a service road. A trade van coming out had got mixed up with another going in and the latter had ridden on to the others bonnet. I took one look and exclaimed, "Get a bucket of water someone."

A chorus of laughter but one dissident, our prim Methodist, Mrs H. she pretended to be shocked but when she claimed to be surprised at me there was a chorus of 'we're not.' She lost her husband several years ago - he ran a pork butcher's shop next to Woolworth's In Cromer and from his counter you could always get the latest risqué story. When they widened the street by Woolworth's Herbert (Mr H) moved to a side street. Lena took the bus into Cromer one day and did a bit of shopping and I picked her up after school. She went into Herbert's shop for a piece of pork and Charlie the assistant served her. As she paid for it she asked if they would keep it for her to pick up later. They asked her name and when she said "Rebbeck" Herbert said was that her husband up at the school? She said it was so he told Charlie to put the meat back, he'd find her a better pieces Mrs H was a good sort, she'd do anything for you. One day I did her a good turn or maybe Herbert. She used to put his dinner on the stove automatically set to switch an at a certain time. She was sure that she hadn't switched it on. I told her that if she'd get the head's permission I'd run her home to Overstrand. We dashed off but it was a false alarm. Everything was O.K. One day Mrs H must have felt argumentative. From out of the blue she suddenly bawled that I was a hypocrite, wasn't I?

"Quite probably" I said, "I think that there is some hypocrisy In all of us but In what way am I outstanding?"

"Well," she said, "you're an atheist yet you hold a religious service at the weekly house meeting."

In the first place I am not an atheist I told her, I am what the pollsters call a 'don't know' There must be something but my brain cannot fathom it. I am content to base my life and behaviour on the "do as you would be done by" maxim.
Incidentally I said to Mrs H "do you believe in fairies?."

"Of course not," she said.

"And I suppose you don't really believe in Father Christmas now you're grown up," I said. I think she saw it coming. "To think you've been mis-guiding that poor little granddaughter of yours all these years about things you yourself don't believe in. Shame. As I said, isn't there some hypocrisy In all of us? Just a little, even in a devout Primitive Methodist?"

End of argument.

1963
Surprisingly enough I seem to have overlooked an event that occurred about 1963. We had a poor little chap coming from a children's home at Overstrand. I think It must have been close to one of the school holidays because I think all the children had gone home either to parents or to relatives with the exception of Tony Menny, who had no known family - he was a foundling who suffered from some mental disorder. On one occasion I gave him a sheet of paper and told him to put his name on it. He did - YNNEM YNOT. He only did it once - I tried it again on another day and he did it properly. One afternoon when I went back to my room after play I caught a nasty little piece of work, Rollie Bacon, poking fun at Tony as they waited in the corridor outside my room. I gave Master Rollie such a tongue-lashing as he had never heard before. I laid it on good and scornful enough to prove even more effective than I had hoped, for next morning I was talking outside the assembly hall to one of our prefects when he said something that did surprise me.

He said "do you know you showed me something yesterday that I never could have expected ?"

"Did I? I asked "what was that ? "

"Rollie Bacon crying."

"Good" I said, "Apparently It went home"

I wish I'd made a copy of it. It was good - It must have been to make the school bully blub.

That wasn't the only time when I had bother with Master Bacon. On another occasion we were watching the final of the school cricket cup on the sports field. I was with Bill Askew and Allan Clowes and a few yards from us Rollie Bacon and several of his cronies. He was holding forth in an overloud voice, artificially pitched so that It could be heard and he was using bad language.

I said to Bill, the senior man present 'did you hear ? "

"Yes' "

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing"

"And what are you doing, Alan?"

"Nothing"

"Right, then I will."

I walked across to Master Bacon and told him that If he was trying to give the impression that he'd been brought up in a pig sty he was going the right way about it. Anyhow, he could cut such language in my hearing. So he goes home and tells his mother that I'd said his home was a pigsty and next morning I get a summons to the headmasters office where Mrs Bacon was alleging that I'd said her home was a pig sty. I asked her what her son had alleged. She said that I had said that his home was a pigsty.

I said "your son is a nasty little mischief-making liar. What I said was if he was trying to create the impression that he'd been raised in a pigsty he was going the right way about it. I've known Jimmy and Allan, Mary and Maureen and they've been a credit to us and a credit to you. I'm afraid your youngest son is not at all a credit to you. Good afternoon." and I left.

I've often wondered what she said to Rollie when she got home.