Schooldays and Holidays Between the Wars 

                After a short time I moved to Standard Two. Both these classes had lady teachers who were very good and I especially liked the one in Standard Two, a Miss Lang, a kind woman who lived near the C.G. station in Upper Church Park (known as Pink Lane by locals, because the walls surrounding the Coastguard Station were at one time pink-washed) and who occasionally asked me to carry a small case to her home after school and leave it in her porch, while she attended business elsewhere. For this service I always was rewarded with a penny - quite a prize in those days!

I skipped Standard Three and went to Standard Four, which was taught by Mr. Bradshaw, who really did know how to generate interest in lessons. I do not recall him ever having to use a cane on anyone in the class or anyone having a bad word for him. After a year, I moved on to Standard Five with Mr. Gibbs, again a good teacher and liked but not so much as ‘Braddy’! There was a ‘remove’ Standard Five to which pupils considered to require more attention were sent.

           I moved on to Standard Six. I cannot say I cared for this teacher, known as ‘Dappy’ Williams, as he was very free with his hand when he thought one was not doing what he thought one should be! I well remember he landed me a blow across my head that made me giddy. I suppose I remember this so well because he said I had been 'talking' and I knew I hadn't!

At the age of ten, I was moved to the ‘top class’, Standard Seven, amongst fourteen year old lads. I never thought anything particular about this and the remainder of the class didn't seem to either. Up to now, the classes had been mixed, girls and boys, but Standard Seven was all boys. Mr. Williams, the class teacher, had a very flexible cane about two feet long called 'Little Jimmy', the production of which was usually enough to maintain order though some occasionally had a stroke across the palm of the hand if they deserved it. This teacher was also generally well-liked and the school seemed to be lucky with their choice of staff.

At this time, there was a notice prominently displayed in the main hall giving day to day numbers of pupils attending the school and the number of pupils per class. The average number was 42 and in those days there were no 'Classroom assistants'. Anybody arriving late for school automatically lost their mid-morning 'Play time' and had to sit under the eye of the Head Teacher, whose work place and desk was positioned on a dais in the main assembly hall. If one missed attending school, a man known as 'The Kid Catcher' called at one’s residence to find out the cause. I remember him coming to our house when I had Mumps!

          There was quite a good-sized supervised recreational field (in Underhill park) near the school though not affiliated to it, in which we could play football or cricket if we wanted to. Nearly opposite it was the cemetery, always very well kept, and we often would go to there for a walk and to look at inscriptions on the stones.

I passed the scholarship examination in 1934 and so had to go to Swansea by bus or (usually) by Mumbles train. The train was electrically driven and of very advanced design for its day and comfortable. The line skirted Swansea bay from the pier at Mumbles head and had stops at South End, Oystermouth, Norton Road, West Cross, Black Pill, Ashleigh Road (handy for the golf course which ran between the Mumbles railway line and the LMS main line), Brynmill, St Helens, The Vetch (a request stop, but handy for football fans) and its terminus just past the gas works at Rutland Street. We caught the bus if times were more convenient such as going home to lunch.           

Dynevor Boy's School

I When I started at Dynevor Secondary school, which was one of three 'Grammar' type schools in Swansea, I had  'Dinner' (lunch) in school for the first few weeks then took sandwiches for a few more weeks but eventually went home for my meal, which the time just allowed. When having a meal in school some friends and I frequently went down to the South Dock to watch the trawlers off-load their fish or go to Weavers grain dock to see the larger grain ships. I remember a ship on which Uncle John Corner was a crew member coming in there and being shown around it by him. The dock has long since gone and now has a supermarket on its grounds.

Dynevor was a boys’ school, but attached to it was a girls high school called De-la-Beche but the 'Playground' was separated by a high wall, so no fraternising took place at least during school time. The play area also housed two ‘Fives’ courts, where the ball which was quite hard was struck with the clenched fist. The game was very popular and was rather like Squash without the rackets. During the summer, a net was put up in the playground so that we could practice cricket. There was an excellent gym, which we attended twice a week and which I looked forward to, but sports such as cricket, rugby and football only came our way once a month and then we had to make our own way to the grounds, known as  the ‘Ganghis’, which were on the top of Townhill, several miles from the Scool.

In the school there was a large woodwork shop and a metal workshop, which contained a couple of lathes, a couple of vertical drills, work benches with vices and two forges. After the first year, a pupil could opt for either woodwork or metal work, I opted for the latter. The top flight of the school contained a chemistry laboratory and a physics laboratory, each of which had its own demonstration room with seats arranged in tiers, so that all could see what the teacher was doing. (Unhappily during the war a bomb hit the roof during a night raid wrecking these labs). I dropped chemistry in the third year for extra lessons in metalworking and engineering drawing. One of the tools I made while there was a trowel, forging the tang, wood- turning the handle and cutting and shaping the blade and riveting them together. I still use this tool in the garden. (AD2010)

          There was a main assembly hall with a raised dais upon which was a piano. It was here we went for one music lesson per week, where we were introduced to music notation and taught to sing. Some of the boys were better than others, especially those who were choirboys. On these the music teacher lavished great praise, while those who were not so blessed usually got little sympathy. I remember him saying in general ‘You must all be naturally able to sing because you are Welsh.’ One boy who said he wasn’t Welsh (he was Irish) was asked where he lived and after saying Port Tennant near the docks, was then told that he was Welsh by adoption, so had no excuse not to be able to sing with everybody else.

          Discipline was maintained by either detention or if a lad was considered really naughty, being sent to see the Head Master.  If I remember correctly I copped three detentions for minor demeanours and on one occasion was sent to see 'The Beak'. All I had done to deserve this (five strokes of the cane on the backside which only hurt my pride) was when the boy in front of me wasn't looking, I put carbide in his ink well, which of course bubbled over and the startled lad shouted,  ‘Look sir my ink well is boiling over’. Ah well!

                 Finally there was a large Arts classroom, where we were taught principles of drawing, painting, bookbinding and various other handcrafts.  All in all a well- equipped school having some excellent teachers.

          French and Latin were an anathema to me, engineering I liked, the remainder I got along with. By the end of the fourth year I had had enough though Mum wanted me to go on and eventually go to University.

Every Sunday all us brothers were sent by Mum to the nearby church and occupied the next -but-one-row of seats to the back. The back row was always occupied by girls of varying ages from an orphanage in Thistleboon about half a mile away. Sunday afternoons, brother, Bill and I attended ‘Sunday School’ which was run in the ‘Church School’ about two hundred yards from home. I was not too keen on our church but did occasionally attend the Methodist 'Wesleyan' Chapel on Sunday evening near the square. It had a balcony and the sermons were more Hell Fire than the C of E and enthusiasts would from time to time stand up in the congregation and shout “Here Here” when the preacher said something which struck a cord. When brother Bert found out about my attendance he was most indignant and complained to Mum about it, I cannot remember the outcome from that, but I don’t suppose Mum was too displeased. 

After school, boys and girls living in and around the Coastguard station used to assemble in the evenings and at weekends to play in the streets (there was virtually no traffic) organising races around the blocks of houses, playing football, skipping, hopscotch, whipping 'tops', bowling 'Hoops' etc. and at weekends or holidays we would go up into the wooded area lying on a hill just above our houses, climbing trees or looking for birds’ nests or taking a short cut to 'Little Langland' as we called Rotherslade.

When leaving (Big) Langland to go home, one could go up steps to the hilltop road or follow the metalled road up past The Osbourne Hotel (since demolished) but we also had a third way! There was a very large Fir tree which had tipped sideways in a gale and which leant on the vertical cliff side, this was called Scouts Ladder, one could climb this and emerge near the road that one would have come along if one had come up the steps. We also went swimming or going for very long walks or picnics to Langland, Caswell or Pwll Du bays, exploring caves and climbing cliffs. I often walked around the cliffs to Bracelet Bay and Rotherslade, then up to Murton or over Mumbles Hill and back home.           We always kept an eye open on the rocks for any drift wood which might come in handy for fire wood or any other flotsam which might prove interesting, especially so if there had been a wreck in the near vicinity. When as an adult I have viewed the cliffs we used to climb, I wondered how we survived. We never were accompanied by an adult. One of the 'caves' known as ‘Doctor’s Mine, which we explored was believed to be man-made and ran into the cliff for nearly a quarter of a mile just north-west of 'Lambs Well' between Rotherslade and Limeslade Bays. The story goes that it came out by the main road at Limeslade. Certainly there is a cave opening at Limeslade  (barred off) for all to see to this day.

There was a great deal of iron mining in this area and Mumbles hill had quite a sizeable cleft cut into it running from the Swansea Bay side almost cutting the hill in half and its bottom was level with the main road giving the impression of a valley, this was the more probable connection to the outlet in Limeslade previously referred to. This cleft was filled in during the excavation of rock underneath the hill in the early thirties during the boring if a large tunnel, which now carries sewerage from Swansea and Mumbles. Before the tunnel was brought into use, locals were allowed to walk through it and I remember walking from an entrance located at Southend to another access point that came out in Bracelet Bay. The walls were white-tiled if I remember correctly. All the area now used for parking between below Tutt Hill and the west end of Bracelet Bay was infill from those excavations and was made up of thousands of tons of crushed stone, before then it was just greensward and gorse bushes, ideal for picnic parties that came on the train from Swansea.

          In the summer when the tide was in, we swam off the foreshore in Swansea bay. There was no blue flag to show that the water was hygienic, it hadn’t been thought of, and Swansea’s effluent came out three miles away into the bay before the new sewerage system was built. Ah! Happy Days!