Dr Bells
First Months
I had begun my primary school education at Dr Bell`s School in 1939 just a month before the War began in September. As no air-raid shelters had been provided there at the time, I was dispersed alongwith my schoolmates to various community halls about Leith.
The Band of Hope in St Andrew`s Street, St Thomas`s Church Hall in Mill Lane, Leith Co-op Boardrooms in Cables Wynd, and Market St. Mission were all attended in turn. When it was apparent that the danger of air-raids was over, normal schooling resumed. However, this was sometime in the future and Leith would get a taste of bombardment from the air.
A number of children had been evacuated to the country and overseas at the outbreak of hostilities, and my mother was given the opportunity of sending me to a friend in Canada who had offered to accept me for the duration of the war. However, she turned this down. Despite the dangers, she could not be blamed for this decision. Looking back, if I had been faced with the choice, I would have done the same.
An air-raid shelter for us in Cables Wynd was provided in the cellars of a tenement in Sheriff Brae near St Thomas`s. We used this on the occasion of the German raids on Clydebank. It was an exciting time for a boy of six years.
Despite the rude awakenings of the wailing sirens, I looked forward to the community spirit pervading in the shelter. All the children had been provided with bunkbeds, and we would lie awake listening to the good-natured banter of the adults. Everybody`s spirits were kept up with the cheery sing-a-longs during the long nights.
One particular evening land mines fell near the Leith Town Hall causing severe damage in the vicinity and several deaths. My aunty Peggy had been suffering from a poisoned hand and could not bear the pain much longer. The local air-raid warden was doing his round of the shelters at the time when he arrived at ours. On hearing of her discomfort, he offered to accompany her across the road to Leith Hospital. Despite the emergency prevailing, the hospital staff treated her immediately.
The air-raid warnings continued for a time after this, but no further damage was inflicted upon Leith. My grandma became philosophical about leaving her house for the shelter. "If I am to be killed then I would rather die in my bed," she declared. Weighing over 20 stones and very rarely leaving her house at other times, maybe this influenced her decision. Anyhow, she survived the war.
Schooling Proper
Dr Bell`s School, although no longer used for primary education, still stands in Great Junction Street as a memorial to the renowned Scottish educationalist, Andrew Bell, 1753 - 1832. *
I can`t recall too vividly my days in the infant class whose teacher was an elderly lady called Miss Olsen, but I do remember her severely chastising me for a certain misdemenour on my part. All pupils` toilets were situated outside in the playground and these were used winter and summer months despite the extreme weather conditions. The teachers at least had inside facilities.
Three o`clock and we were dismissed for the day. I ran out of the classroom and through the school gate and immediately relieved myself at the pavement`s kerb. Miss Olsen was close on my heels and she exploded with rage as she caught sight of me. I was immediately dragged back into school where I was lectured in no uncertain terms.
We were taught the rudiments of arithmetic by means of different coloured wooden pegs and blocks. Slates and pencils were used extensively with each new day`s work going onto a newly wiped surface. No record of your work survived a damp cloth.
An important lesson that was instilled in us was the donning of gas masks in a daily drill bordering on a ritual. Each of us had to carry our gas masks everywhere we went. This eventually went out of practice as the danger of air-raids receded. These were carefree days in the infant classes, but they were soon to pass as we moved up through the grades.
Miss Olsen passed us onto Miss Ironside and she in turn to Miss Mackie. Eventually we were taken under the wing of Miss Gellatly who supervised us up to the time we were ready to leave our primary education behind us.
The last paragraph is interesting to note. Each teacher was unmarried. A sign of the times? Another was that the only male staff in the school were Mr Barrie, headmaster, Mr McKenzie, teacher and Mr Campbell, the janitor. Almost forgot, Mr Borthwick was the school caretaker who resisided on the premises.
Setting Off
So many memories spring to mind as I look back on these years. With leather schoolbag on my shoulders, I was seen off by my grandma at 8.45am and told to hurry along. Childlike, I would stroll up Cables Wynd with not an inkling of time, and be distracted by almost anything of interest.
Andrew Paterson`s coalhorse and cart; electricity workmen digging up the granite setts in the road that the gasmen had relaid only the week before; dustmen emptying the buckets into their horse-drawn carts.
Each morning I would encounter Bill Wright the postie, weighed down with his postbag coming down the street, and at other times `Condie` the plumber with his toolbag balanced on one shoulder without a steadying hand, and his grease laden cap lying flat on his head.
`Ding! Ding! Ding! The schoolbell pealed out from its niche high up on the side of the building as I was meandering down Brewery Lane. Off I set as fast as my little legs could carry me. Reaching the policeman on duty outside the school, no lollipop man then, he`d greet me with a "never early are you?"
The policemen were always friendly to us, but could show a sterner side. I was once again late and crossed the street before the official crossing. I negotiated it successfully but then again there was not much traffic in the early forties. A shrill whistle caught my ears. "Stand where you are until I am finished," called out an angry policeman.
I stood at the school railings watching the other pupils filing into the building as the officer approached me. I had only crossed the road at the wrong place and yet I had fallen foul of the law and had been caught out. Eight years old I was. He lectured me and accompanied me into school where he handed me over tp Mr Campbell the janitor. He in turn ushered me into Mr Barrie, the headmaster`s room. There I received a further lecture on road safety and this in turn by a stroke of the belt.
It must have got through to me. I remember it to this day. This was one time I missed out on marching to class to the sound of martial music, and Miss Steel counting out the steps aloud as we progressed up the metal staircase. So many memories.
Dr Bells in 2001 The ubiquitous bell can be seen nestling above the two windows on the gable end of the central block.
Dr Bell`s statue is in the niche immediately behind the street light.
Ginger Cakes
Sweets were rationed during the whole period of my attendance at primary school. However, a sales
girl from Smith the Bakers from across the road would come to the school gate with a tray of gingerbread squares. We would queue as orderly as children could be expected to be allocated one piece on producing the required penny.
We received our regulation one third of a pint of free milk each day. Senior boys and girls delivered this milk to each classroom. The cardboard tops of these bottles were collected in order to play a form of pitch & toss, the winner being the person with the top landing nearest the wall.
Half Day
No school meals were available to us at Dr Bell`s, which meant we had to go home each dinner time - we didn`t use the term lunch in those days. If it was raining as dinner time approached, and it didn`t look like stopping, we were told not to return. We would sit in anticipation of this, forever peering out of the tall windows and dreading that the falling rain would taper off. The bearer of the good tidings was a senior who relayed the headmaster`s decision to each class. Oh how we listened to hear the classroom door open and see the girl enter. She would whisper something in the teacher`s ear, and the latter would turn to us with a smile. She didn`t have to say anything. A half-day had been sanctioned. Would this work today with so many parents out working? Doubt it.
Playground
The girls and boys had separate playgrounds. The cacaphony of sound emanating from them must have been ear splitting. Numerous games were played there, and the variety of these was determined by the games of the season. Bools (marbles), whip and peerie, conkers, cigarette card swapping, cuddy hunkers, water pistol shooting, and even guessing film stars` names after being given their initials.
The girls had their own games such as beds (hopscotch), diabolo throwing and catching with a string between two sticks, (an art) skipping ropes, knitting and crocheting.
Differences of opinions among boys were to be expected then as now. Often these spilled over into an exchange of blows. Many were the times a circle of spectators would form around the two pugilists as they swapped punches, each with their supporters shouting them on. The resultant rumpus would attract the janitor who would then take hold of the culprits and march them into school for their reprimands from the highest source. No lasting ill feeling ever came from them.
Smallpox
Came the time of the smallpox epidemic and the mass vaccination campaign that was waged against it. We all wore red armbands on our left arm where we had received the needle scratch. This was to warn off any who might have knocked against you. To this day I still have the vivid scar mark as evidence of my vaccination.
School Clinic
While on the medical topic, who can ever forget the enforced visits to the school clinic in Link`s Place? It was always my dread to be infected by impetigo and have the obligatory gentian violet applied to the sores. If you were unfortunate to be infected with this, you were avoided like the plague as having scabs. Only the poor from the slums were expected to suffer from these. Digressing for a bit, boys from the poorest families could always be identified with certainty from the shoewear of theirs. They were provided with heavy tackety boots from the Leith police station.
Toothache was another problem that the clinic treated. Cure for this was gas and extraction. No fillings were ever considered. You left the building with a scarf tied tightly around your mouth to keep infection out.
Fright
Sometime during my later term at Dr Bell`s, I was capering with a classmate, Alex Ramsay while making our way to Bonnington Road along Great Junction Street. He lived in a stair near the junction of the two thoroughfares. We had been taking it in turn giving `colley buckies` (I never really knew if this was the correct spelling, it was just an oral term). This was the art of carrying somebody on your back with his legs being supported by the your arms. The rider had his arms around your neck. All the time we had our schoolbags on our own backs.
We staggered about under the weight, being jostled by passersby all the time. It was my turn on his back when he lurched back out of control. Next thing I knew was when I was going backwards through the plate glass window of Keir`s shoe shop. The stacked shoes in the window all came tumbling about me. Believe it or not I didn`t suffer one little scratch.
Managing to extricate myself from the debris, I wriggled my way between the onlookers and scooted down Cables Wynd. Ramsay had done like wise. I was a frightened lad for sometime after this. I always dreaded the knock at the door from an enquiring policeman. Each time I passed the shop with its boarded up window I quaked. This eased as the window was replaced. For some time afterwards I kept extricating broken glass fragments from my schoolbag. None of my family ever got to hear of it.
Outings
Outings were a feature of this time at primary. Tickets were allocated for visits to the zoo during the summer months. I don`t think there were any wild animals housed there at the time. I believe they were disposed off in some way or another in case of bomb damage there in the zoo and animals escaping.
In the latter years of the War, Christmas parties were organised by American servicemen at Kirknewton for the Edinburgh area children. I was never fortunate to be allocated an invite, but those that did always came away with wonderful gifts and sweets. Lucky them.
Qualifying Exam
With the War ending in 1945, my final year at primary school began. This year would end with our qualifying examination that would determine our future education. We sat this early in the spring of 1946. When the results came through, I found that I had come out with the highest marks. I was declared the Dux of the school and as well as my certificate I was awarded two books, Treasure Island and Kidnapped. These were inscribed and I am glad to say that they are still in my possession to this day.
Extra-Curricular
I can`t leave Dr Bell`s behind before recording some of the after-school activities we got up to. A number of my classmates, including me, would often return to the playground in the evenings. A favourite game was kissing the girl of our choice. No sex was involved, in fact I don`t think we ever thought of the game as such.
It involved boys who had collected tram tickets with the serial numbers totalling 21. We presented such a ticket to the girl of our choice and she returned it with a kiss. We loved the game, but as I have said, it went no further.
* Dr Bell had once been a private tutor to a family of plantation owners in America. When the War of Independence broke out he returned to Scotland and thence travelled to the sub continent wher he taught in Madras. It was here that he founded the Madras system of education. On returning to Scotland he introduced it here.
This entailed senior pupils (monitors) standing in for teachers and teaching younger ones the rudiments of education. This freed the teachers to concentrate on the senior pupils.
