Christopher Parkinson (Sep 75-Dec 80)

I have so many memories of Durlston although it is now over a quarter of a century since I left.  I still recall being driven along the, what seemed at the time, long drive towards the “Jubilee” Entrance and being met by Bunty Mills and Miss Long (who was anything but) and being taken to the dormitory all of which were named after various public schools.  I seem to remember that as 3rd formers we started in Harrow and Eton before moving onto the like of Wellington and Sherborne - a prefect in each dorm who would ensure we behaved after “lights out” and put us in “mud” if we started chattering.  The dormitories on the top floor were smaller and the camaraderie seemed better probably due to the fact that we had to share the freezing winters.  I remember ice forming on the inside of the windows and the tap freezing in one of the dorms at the top.

The teachers who made the biggest impression on me were (and apologies if the spelling of the names is not exact) Mr Ransome, Mr Harrison, PY, Major Elvery, Major Beavis, Mr Burnham, Mr & Mrs Keys and of course the somewhat intimidating headmaster Mr Onslow who must have been the inspiration for the children’s programme “The Demon Headmaster”.  Mr Ransome was a suave English master who drove a series of flash cars including a Lotus Esprit.  He would often be late for a lesson as he would be smoking a cigarette just outside the window of the 6A classroom and would often smoke a cigarette leaning out of the window during the lesson. 

Mr Harrison inspired a love of music with his enthusiasm.  I remember choir concerts in local churches including New Milton, Lyndhurst and Beaulieu Abbey and indeed recording an album in Beaulieu Abbey (1979 or 1980).  The school shows including Joseph and Trial by Jury (I was the usher in the 1980 production) and then involvement in local music competitions in Bournemouth and Southampton.  Trombone and piano lessons on the top floor.

As the school chaplain, PY was incredible.  As well as his pastoral duties he taught squash and tennis and I remember him showing us films on his video recorder, a device that in the mid-to-late 70s, was pretty new stuff.  I also recall the reward of the soda stream for minor jobs and trying to get as many different flavours in as possible.

Major Elvery I recall taught history and sports and was deputy headmaster.  As part of the school 2nd XI (recently demoted from the 1st!) we played football against Hordle House.  Unfortunately flu had swept through Durlston and the 2nd XI was not so much a 2nd XI as a 3rd or 4th.  We were truly hammered.  Afterwards Major Elvery said to me “at least you kept running about and didn’t give up”.  I remember (fondly now) his history lessons and the occasional war story.  Having spent the last 17 years in the military I am pretty ashamed at the flippant way in which many of us treated his war stories.  I am sure I would not have his patience with snotty boys who treated his wartime experiences as a laugh.

Major Beavis probably only taught for a couple of years in my time at Durlston but I recall him as a kindly teacher who wore half-moon spectacles.  Principally I remember him for reading us “The Hobbit” whilst in 4A and I have to this day a love of JRR Tolkien.  Mr Burnham taught maths I think as well as taking us for various sports.  I do recall being given 10% by him for some maths prep - never was my strongest subject.  I also remember him taking us for runs around the local area especially down the cliffs onto the shingle beach.  Mr Keys (history) and Mrs Keys (art) edited the school magazine and I still have copies with the covers designed by the pupils.

The school houses were named after the UK’s patron saints and the daily wear ties indicated which house you belonged to.  I can’t see Gordon Brown on television wearing a red tie without thinking “Ah, he must have been in St Georges” (and therefore, obviously, can’t be trusted) similarly I always had a soft touch for the liberals because the previous party leader often wore a yellow tie and so, despite his personal difficulties, he clearly must have been a member of the superior house - St Davids!  I remember the weekly house meetings where those who had brought shame on the house with the number of black marks were encouraged to improve for the benefit of all.  Of course membership of a successful house bought rewards - namely the end of term or year outing to the cinema in Bournemouth.

The food at Durlston was pretty poor I seem to remember.  Toast was a treat that only staff got for breakfast - bread and some, at times, pretty rancid butter or marge and jam for the pupils.  However, if you were quick you could nab some of the leftover toast from the top table once the staff had left.  I also remember raiding the kitchen for bread and toasting it over the electric heaters in some of the classrooms.  Actually I think I lit my first ever cigarette against one of those heaters.  Two things I wouldn’t encourage my children to do!

The opportunity for sports (or should I say the enforced participation) has left me with a lifetime love of sport and a healthy respect for the danger of turning ones back on someone armed with a wet towel.  I can’t be sure, but wouldn’t be surprised to find that one of the many scars on my body was inflicted by a quick flick of a towel!  Then what seemed enormous communal baths in the boys changing room are I am sure long gone as they were deemed a health issue when I was playing rugby at university.  The outdoor pool was fantastic and the slide was a real bonus.  I was first taught how to turn a pair of pyjama bottoms into a floatation device and dive to the bottom of the deep end to retrieve a brick there by Mrs Barraclough(?).  Weekends in the hot summer of 1976 were cooled by hours in that pool.

The matches against the other local prep schools on Wednesday and Saturday afternoons were a highlight of school time.  Edinburgh House, Hordle House etc were regular rivals but I don’t recall Durlston being a top sporting school and that a trip down the M27 to West Hill Park was likely to be followed by defeat at whatever sport was played - football in the autumn, rugby in the spring and cricket in the summer.

Outside of formal school time I remember hours spent in the grounds climbing trees whilst dressed in denim dungarees and wellies or our gym shoes - which had to be plain white.  Anyone whose parents tried to get any gym shoes of a slightly higher quality such as Dunlop Green Flash or, heaven help us, trainers was taken to get plain white plimsolls from Woolworths.  Exeat weekends were eagerly anticipated as were the film nights which were probably programmed for once or twice a term.  However the most eagerly anticipated event most weeks was tuck time.  In my first year or so we arrived at school with a big tin full of pick and mix which was safely stored in the tuck shop next to the playroom.  We were then given our ration of sweets, with no doubt the senior boys taking their cut, from our own tins.  Later the school issued out standard amounts - normally a Mars bar and a packet of Polos or similar.  This was our equivalent of tobacco in a prisoner of war camp and was currency that could be traded.

	Ascention Day 1974. Greg Boucher, extreme left, Mark Page & David Chapman standing on the left bank, Across the stream - Peter Boon, Jeremy Tanner, Paul Gahan, Peter Dredge, Simon Lee (arm on Dredge), David St Maur Sheil. The boy on the extreme right standing at the back next to Simon Lee is Stephen Gresham and the boy very extreme right (can't see his face as he is looking at David St Maur Sheil) is John Gibbons. PY is collecting rubbish. Sitting on the left bank (knees slightly bent) is John Paddock with Noel Carter standing on his right (ie the two nearest to PY). Joff white is bent over standing in the stream with Baird looking down also standing in stream two other boys further in the background on the left bank are Charles Alford standing looking at Joff White and Michael Busher kneeling furthest in the background

Not all memories are entirely happy.  I still remember the casual violence and bullying that was part of school life in the 70s - I don’t for a minute suggest that Durlston was any worse than other schools, just that times and accepted mores have changed.  The stern discipline of the Headmaster, Ian Onslow, who was not afraid to use the cane is a relic of the past and we were probably the last generation of Durlstonians to suffer corporal punishment as I believe he retired a couple of years after my year left.  However it did prepare me for school in Scotland where the belt was a common punishment dealt out in public - at least the canings and, much worse, the humiliation of tears were in private at Durlston.  There was also the homesickness of young children away from home for the first time.  Some who actually went further than the musings of various escape committees and made a bolt for the train station usually to be picked up within a few hours.

Although a strict disciplinarian, Mr Onslow was not unapproachable and could even be kindly.  I remember that as prefects we were invited into the Headmasters lodgings on a Saturday night to stay up late and watch “Tales of the Unexpected” or “Hammer House of Horror” with a mug of tea and a biscuit.

I have not kept in touch with anyone from Durlston so I cannot pass any news on any ODs.  Names from my year that I remember were Kit Rogers, Mark Tremlett, Adam West, Sophie Pattman, Fry, Norton, Bentley.

Durlston has clearly left a great mark on me.  I remember much more of it than my subsequent school - probably because as a full boarder I really did spend my formative years there.  Much as the Jesuits say - if they are given a boy of seven they will have him for life (or something to that effect) - I think Durlston has shaped my life one way or another.  I am glad that the school continues to flourish and wish it a successful bicentenary in the future.

As an indication of how indoctrinated I have been by my time at Durlston, on arrival we were all given a number that had to be on all the name tags attached to our clothes - which helped the matrons place clothes on the correct pegs after washes I guess.  My number was 31.  Since then I have always considered that 31 is my number - even more so than my RAF Service Number.  Whenever I buy a lottery ticket it has to include 31.  Whenever I change RAF postings and have to get a new Mess Bill number I always seek out 31.  After Durlston I went to Robert Gordon’s College in Aberdeen followed by university and a degree in Business Studies.  Following university I joined the RAF and have spent the last 17 ½ years flying over various regions of the world - strangely quite a lot of the Middle East!  I am married with 2 daughters who I would gladly send to Durlston based on my experiences - unfortunately it seems unlikely that we would live near enough for that to happen.

Christopher Parkinson (Sep 75-Dec 80)