Stubbington House Memories

A Memory of Stubbington.

I was a pupil at Stubbington House from 1953 ‘till 1958 and my step-father, too, was in the Navy. It’s extraordinary to read the memories of those whose names are now starting to come back to me, particularly Fogarty and Madden. It has brought back so many memories which I had almost forgotten, although I cannot remember many of the masters’ names. I do, however, remember the headmaster, Foster, who was almost invariably referred to as “Gov (or Guv)”, as in “Cave Guv!”. The strong smell of his pipe tobacco still lingers in my mind and has brought a shiver to my spine on the few occasions when I have smelt a similar tobacco since. I also remember the beastly Latin master - Jones I think his name was. I remember once, when I was playing with my friends, he said: “Maunder, how can you always be so happy? You have no right to be happy when you are so lazy and hopeless at Latin.” I just laughed at him as I never thought that a knowledge of Latin was a necessity of life, and I still don’t. Of courset his annoyed him even more. I also remember Donkey Dyer, the rather scary looking man with the glass eye and the master with the tin leg. As a result of his disability he had very strong arms and I remember him picking up a boy who had annoyed him, by the hair, lifting him over the back of the bench on which he was sitting and whacking him on the behind with his walking stick. I don’t think this would be allowed now! There was also a funny little master I think we referred to as Mole, I remember quite well that if I glared at him hard when he was trying to tell me off I could make him freeze, like a rabbit in the headlights. It became my party trick and I was encouraged to do it by some of my classmates. Serge was a good bloke though. I remember him teaching me boxing and shooting, both of which I loved, which probably helped.
I also remember planting a commemorative tree and have often wondered whether it has survived.