Allan Vial DFC OAM OPR

I was raised in the days of the Great Depression. As a family we considered we were relatively well off. My father had a car and a nice house and was a joint partner in a business that was in work all through the depression. At times we went without, but that did not hurt us. We could afford to go to the ‘pictures’ about every second week as a family; my parents never owed money, except on the house mortgage to the Repatriation Department. My father, more often than not, made very good mechanical presents for my brother and me at the times of our birthdays and Christmas. He was very adept. He was a self-made man. He was a good father.

In our world of the day, there was very little he could not do. As a miner he was a qualified blacksmith; he could also work well in wood and tin metal. For birthdays or Christmas one present was all that was given to each of us. It was cherished and well used and well cared for. It was much later when in our teens that we were given the educational Meccano and Cliptico sets. He did all of the maintenance work on his cars including, for the 1923 and later the 1927 Rugby (SA:39 384)¹⁴, building and attaching a luggage rack, mounting it on the back of the car, making glass side curtains, which were detachable, and modifying the various driver’s controls so he could drive the vehicle properly, as he had lost his right leg in the Great War. There were no automatic gears in those days.

Families of our relatives were very closely knit and almost every Sunday, after Sunday school, relatives would be visited. Because we had a car, and some did not, we did much of the visiting; others who had cars, shared the visits. We understood more about our relatives and their way of life. We learned about caring and sharing. My mother’s mother, a widow, always lived with us. She was a wonderful historian having been born in South Australia in 1859 and died at the age of 94. She was in full control of her faculties until the last six months of her life. I loved to sit at her knee and listen to her stories of, to me, a very tough life; like at the age of seven, learning to smoke a pipe as ‘company’ when driving a ‘four-in-hand’ wagon from Adelaide, along a winding dirt track to Murray Bridge, carting fish plates for the building of the first bridge there, then raising a family of seven at Goolwa after her husband deserted them all for the Western Australian goldfields. No social benefits paid in those days, yet she ensured all of her children were educated to a trade.

My mother, being a qualified tailoress, made virtually all of the clothes, for me, my older brother, Clyde, and younger sister, Dahlis. It was not until I went to ATHS that I had a pair of long slacks purchased for me and how pleased I was to have them. The norm was to wear a shirt for seven days, putting on a new one for Sunday. From secondary school onwards my best shirts had separate collars fastened to the shirts with front and back studs; always a nuisance. But collars could be changed during the week! Often sleeve-links were used to hold the split shirt sleeve ends together. Ties nearly always worn. Our shoes were always kept in good repair as my father could ‘half sole and heel’ a pair of shoes, sewing the soles if required. He taught me how to do it, starting with a sheet of butt leather and a sharp wet knife. My father cut our hair well – also mother was competent.

As were most South Australians of the time, we were a church-going family, attending the following meetings of the Brighton Baptist Church:- 10 am, Christian Endeavour, 11 am morning Church Service, 2.30 pm Sunday School and 7 pm evening service. Dad very seldom went to church until about 1941 when, under pressure from mum and/or maybe the war and the need to pray to God for success, he began to attend morning church services. Every Sunday a beautiful roast dinner would be put into the oven of the wood stove, with vegetables in saucepans on the stove top, before mother left home; the meal would always be cooked to perfection by the time we returned. There was always a Protestant religious ‘sense’ at the various schools I attended.

From 1921 to 1931, each year my mother made a number of ‘teaching aids’ for the Brighton Primary School. Usually large cardboard cut-outs of numbers, letters and words; she was always involved with our education – always checked and helped with our homework – always carefully signed off my diary when I was at ATHS. That diary controlled my life! Mother gave us a lot of education at home before we went to primary school; we could count to 20, knew all the letters of the alphabet and could read the grade 1 primer; so we had an easy start into schooling. It was all of this that helped me to be accepted into grade 1 at the age of four and a half years. Frankly it would have been better for me if I had gone to school a year later! I was too young.

I enjoyed school but have never ever considered it the best time of my life as we were often told it would be. But I do know now that for 90% of all children, how they approach and react to primary education is the lead to success, or not, in later life. Miss Burge, my first and second grade teacher, was very lovable, Miss Doig, third grade, was, for me, a horror. The rest were positives for me, Miss Croom for grade 4. We had a Glenelg ‘grade’ cricketer in grade 5 – alas these days I cannot recall his name. Mr Williams, a great thrower of chalk to the inattentive and also a chewer of chalk in grade 6.

Each morning, before primary school, we ‘paraded’ before the flagpole. The flag was raised; we sang the national anthem; we then waved our handkerchiefs to show our teachers we had one. I was not the only one who had to look around for an appropriate piece of white paper to wave. Then we marched off to our classrooms. Discipline from the start! It seemed fairly normal, during all my schooling that students abused each other verbally, we were definitely religiously bigoted. Children were set upon, the big bullied the small; the teachers did stop most of it and were diligent in their teaching. They spoke well and dressed well and were good ‘role’ models for us.

There were tentative meanderings into sexual ‘enlightenment’, between students only, mainly at the grade 7 level, and I have no knowledge of sexual assault in any manner from teacher to student or between students, although two or three of the older, well-developed and mature girls in grade 7 seemed very ‘active’, by their own choice, with a small group of the bigger, bully-type boys. We only guessed, we never really ‘knew’ and we really knew none of the ‘facts of life’. Life was quite enjoyable for us. We had no ‘hang-ups’. We were aware there were poor children at school whose fathers were out of work; they were often poorly-dressed – some (very few) had no shoes, specially sad for them in the winter cold and wet. As lucky youngsters we tended to judge the less fortunate on their cleanliness, dress and footwear and never made friends of them. I would gather this was a reflection from the attitude of our own parental social group!

I never received ‘the cane’ at any stage of my schooling but was made to stand in the corner in grade 1 by Miss Burge, because I marched into class swinging my arms high, just as we had to do later in my RAAF training camp – which, at the time, made me recall that early grade 1 incident with wry humour.

With a name like mine I came in for a lot of verbal abuse from fellow pupils, and teachers too if I incurred their wrath for some misdemeanour. I did not enjoy that when it happened. I nearly always told my parents, in my younger days; they thereupon recited the old rhyme, ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me.’ It took me many years to accept that. (But I did not need an Act of Parliament and counsellors to sort it out – I did that myself.) This ‘name calling’ carried on through high school, my time at work and in the RAAF. It was much later in life that I would introduce myself as ‘Vial by name and vile by nature’: people tended to remember me then. Later, when I travelled quite widely, I found the usual European pronunciation of ‘fiarl’ was much softer and far more acceptable to me. The Asians also use the same pronunciation.

By nature I was not an aggressive person and would try and avoid a fight. I was often provoked by bullies – as were many children, but I usually ‘slid’ away from such situations. I can only remember fighting once at primary school when my older brother, Clyde, on his way home, was set upon by three brothers – so I hopped in like a whirling dervish to ‘save’ him. I guess I helped the scene to change a little; we escaped a bit bloodied and with clothes a mess. My mother was not impressed when we got home. I recall my parents calling on the roughies’ parents on occasions like this. It was not normal to go to the headmaster if such occurrences took place outside of the school grounds. Of course all students walked to and from school – sometimes for several miles – but for us only a quarter of a mile across open paddocks. This area later became the Brighton Oval.

Our headmaster was Mr Dingle, who smoked perfumed tobacco. It was his ‘favourite’ pupils who were sent to the local tobacconist, Mr Potter, to pick up his supplies. Once only was I allowed to go, what an honour! He was a small man, a reasonable person, even if somewhat pompous! When finally completing grade 7 at Brighton Primary School, our very good class teacher, Mr Hack, advised all his male and female students (as far as I recall we were seldom called students in those days – mainly pupils or scholars) to give thought as to whether they would be better served by going to Adelaide High School (AHS) or Adelaide Technical High School (ATHS) or if they should ‘go out to work’ or repeat grade 7. ATHS rated far more highly than AHS in those days. Also, as was normal then, a number of boys and girls left school after grade 7, often going into lowly paid labouring jobs. Some didn’t even sit for the Qualifying Certificate, or QC examination. Some failed the QC and the parents did not want them to go back to school and ‘waste their time’, when they could be out earning money.

I badly wanted to go to ATHS and take the technical course. I had always wanted to learn a language. I was an avid reader; I still am. I wanted to ‘do’ French; to do that I had to take the commercial course; however that was not for me. No girls did the tech course though, but there were plenty of males doing the commercial course, including a then mate of mine Ron Barnes who later became the Under Treasurer in SA. Alas I still have no real ability in French.

All of my life I was just an average student, unless I could be motivated, and then I could, and did, do very well in that particular subject. Before the war my father had been a miner at Wallaroo Mines, as was his father before him; he knew my ATHS chemistry teacher, Mr Slee,¹⁵ who came from the same area. Dad had lost a leg in World War I and had been retrained, under a repatriation scheme, as an upholsterer. He had his own upholstery business, Daws & Vial, in North Terrace, Hackney. John Martin’s Store always used their services when they wanted a quality sitting room comprising a lounge and two chairs for a special display. I recall in the tough depression days they always seemed to lead a charmed life when, with no work in view after the job they had in hand, they would suddenly get a job to re-upholster all the seats and the seat-backs in a suburban picture theatre. As stated previously my mother had been a tailoress, so between my father and my mother, I was well oriented into work with physical skills. I was raised to appreciate the work ethic,

As children we always had our jobs to do about the house and garden. For this we received our pocket money of from one, later up to six pence (now one to five cents) per week. From the age of 13 I delivered fruit and vegetables for a gardener from eight am to noon each Saturday, for the sum of two shillings (20 cents) which I thought was very good value – I still do. I used my own Malvern Star bike, which cost me £20, for the deliveries. I paid for any breakages!

Even at this early age I had taken an interest in surveying. One of our church members was a surveyor and he earned the huge sum, then, of £500 a year. He had a very nice home, a car and raised three children, one of whom, Bill Greenshields, went to ATHS and later became a surveyor himself. Doreen, a daughter of my age, was my first girl friend. To me the Greenshields family lived in luxury! Also a surveyor spent a lot of time in the bush and I liked the country. So all in all, that was the life career I desired, and to work for the government was preferable, because it was a job guaranteed until one retired at the age of 65. Positive thoughts for one brought up in the Great Depression.

ATHS was rated as a better high school than AHS. One had to apply to ATHS and then await results of the end of year QC examination. I have forgotten what the criteria were, but an acceptable pass for entrance to ATHS was say 120 out of 150. Luckily I received 123. All students at that time were quite happy to accept such guidelines. As part of the School of Mines, ATHS was the right school for a budding surveyor. However, postwar I became an aerial surveyor and for years flew in comfort over the harsher parts of the countryside of most of Australia, which Mr Greenshields had covered using camels!

My brother Clyde Lawrence Vial was two years ahead of me. He was at AHS and eventually went back there as a highly respected and dedicated teacher, straight from Teachers Training College – of which he was student president – until his early death, at the age of 28, in 1950. At that time he was engaged to Claire Alexander who also went to Brighton Baptist Church and was a good scholar and sportswoman at ATHS during the time I was there. Off his ‘own bat’, every night of the week, Clyde stayed back after hours until six o’clock to look after the many latch-key students. Yes, even in those days, but it was not publicised. He gave them added tuition in any subjects they desired, including woodwork which he had learnt in a practical sense from our father. It was a mixed group of girls and boys. He received no extra pay for this work. He was fondly known as ‘King of the Kids’.

At one time an ‘uncle’ of ours, Edgar Allen,¹⁶ was the SA Deputy Director of Education. I recall that during my time at school my father and I called on him several times at his office in the Education Building on the corner of Flinders Street and Gawler Place. He was from my father’s side of the family. We really only had a low level of contact with him.

I was very happy to see I had passed the QC when I read the results in the Adelaide Advertiser. Then ATHS wrote to say I was accepted; some of my Brighton school mates also, which I thought was good. About a week before school started, amongst many others, my mother accompanied me to a meeting with the ATHS headmaster, Mr Moyle, and some of his masters. We were advised as to the school curriculum, activities, code of dress and required behaviour. One was to wear the school uniform with tie and cap. We were given a list of books to obtain; second hand books were available for those who could not afford new ones. People were not discriminated against because they bought books second hand; some of mine were purchased that way. I was keenly looking forward to this new experience.

My mother and I were quite impressed with the school being located on North Terrace. I would be travelling by train from Hove to Adelaide, which I had already done a number of times with my parents, and then walk to school. Mr Moyle advised us there were school prefects on the trains on which I would travel and a specific carriage (the rear one) in which I must ride, unless I was accompanied by one of my parents. I would have to obey any instruction given to me by such a prefect. I found that, in the main, ATHS scholars were usually quite well behaved and I can only recall one particular student who got on at Clarence Park, being called before the head on several occasions because of unruly behaviour.

One always purchased a scholar’s monthly rail ticket, at quite a good discount, to travel between Hove and Adelaide. It gave me unlimited travel from Monday to Friday. In my last year at school I bought a yearly ticket which was at a much greater discount and was very helpful for travel in the school holidays. There were some restrictions on students travelling in peak traffic hours, when trains were packed with men and women who were travelling to or from work. One was required to immediately give up one’s seat to an older person – no questions asked! In those days it took 35 minutes to travel from Hove to Adelaide.

That the school was in close proximity to the shopping centre of Adelaide, lunch time could be a very busy period indeed. I do not clearly recall that we had restrictions placed on us regarding going out at lunch time; but I would guess, on reflection, there would have been restrictions, requiring a letter, to a teacher or Mr Moyle, from a parent, requesting permission for the student to go into the city and do some particular errand for them. I know a second hand book shop in Pulteney Street was visited by me quite often. I recall shopping at the first Woolworth’s store in Rundle Street, with nothing over 2/6 (25c) – a great new experience. The Public Library was also a good haunt, but only when I was going home from school, as I had to walk right past it. I recall spending many happy hours reading books on travel and history; also reading books by Russian authors. Why? I don’t recall today. But I certainly enjoyed them. I was definitely no budding Communist. With my father as my mentor, I was to be a liberal socialist. I recall learning later in life that my father, with his mining background had originally been a keen Labor voter, but after he went into business for himself, he soon became a Liberal, supporting the Liberal and Country League – the LCL.

There was adequate space in the school area for morning, afternoon and lunch breaks. If the weather was satisfactory no student was allowed to stay inside. Most pupils went down Frome Road to the main school oval at lunch time. There were not many seats to sit on in the lunchtime and mid break rest areas, but youngsters in those days improvised quite a lot. They got on with life with few ‘grizzles’. Each student had a locker at the back of the class room. These were locked by the ‘user’. One was supposed to only take out the books required for each particular class. returning to exchange them at the end of each lesson. Woodwork, sheetmetal and fitting and turning were lessons taken in the School of Mines’ premises whose instructors were excellent. I always did very well at woodwork, achieving credits.

There were the usual and expected differences in dressing by students in the required school uniform, from the magnificent to the not-so-good or scruffy. That range also applied to the females – although never as badly dressed as the males. But in reality they were all pretty well dressed. If poorly dressed, students would be informed by a master to be better dressed the next day and a note was put in their diary – to be ‘signed off’ by the parent and brought back next day. Masters always awaited that diary being returned next morning as the students filed into the first class of the day. I have a vague thought at the back of my mind that Mr Moyle had a shoe cleaning box in his outer office and some ‘reported’ students had to front up, be ‘told off’ and then had to clean their shoes.

Getting a diary ‘signed off’ by one’s parents was a new idea to get used to. I was not impressed if the teacher put a negative comment in my diary, as then I had to explain to mum or dad as to the whys and wherefores, and then get them to sign it off as having been read. Happily this seldom happened and I do recall there were a few instances when I got dad to sign as mum would have been more cross than he with me – or vice versa! At school I had to work hard to achieve success. I did not begrudge the extra time I took to study; usually early in the morning. I also enjoyed and found time for sport, mainly football, cricket and tennis. I still consider participation in team sports essential to a well-rounded education.

Mr Haskard was my first teacher. We occupied the first room on the first floor, on the right hand side of the corridor leading away eastwards from the main stairway. He was a short, stocky man. A fair teacher who, alas, did not bring out the best in me. But maybe that is because I suffered a fair amount of sickness in that year, 1936, and I lost a term and a bit. It was suggested to my parents that I should do first year again. I did. As it was I had entered ATHS at 13 and a half, so I was now better placed to study. I enjoyed my schooling, specially drawing, woodwork, English, maths I and II. Physics and chemistry were not, in today’s terminology, ‘student friendly’ to me.

School discipline was quite firm, but fair. I only had to front up to ‘Siddie’ twice; once in first year when I was caught, kneeling on the floor, using my seat as a ‘desk’ and writing an answer to an exam paper after we had all been told to stop. Mr Moyle was quite positive to me about what he considered was cheating! The second time was to see if I, amongst a number of others, could help them locate any guns stolen from the storage buildings in the old Exhibition Grounds. I could not really help him, even though I knew some of the participants – as did he! As background, before the move of the Royal Agricultural Show to Wayville Showgrounds, the exhibition was held in these large buildings, off Frome Road, between the grounds of the Adelaide Hospital and the Torrens River. Much old material and historic government items were stored in the old buildings and these pistols came from the Police Department’s area. I actually went to two exhibitions at the old location. At one I recall seeing a neighbour, Mr Bowes, (it was his youngest son who purchased our old 1927 Rugby car) on the Adelaide Advertiser stand demonstrating the latest in linotype machines. He stamped my name on a piece of linotype which, with an ink pad, allowed me to use it as a name stamp for quite a long time.

I was raised to accept discipline. At home I knew the house rules and I knew the punishment if I broke them, three cuts on the leg with a cane wielded by my father. I often, knowingly, broke the house rules and I received exactly what had been promised! It hurt! I still consider that as long as the ‘house rules’ are clearly laid down, fair physical punishment, with plenty of love about, is a sane way of getting the point across about obedience, disobedience and self discipline. My father always did the disciplining; however I loved my father deeply right up to the day he died in 1963, aged 73. I still remember him with great affection. Sadly many children these days fail to understand discipline, respect and pride in oneself, which reflects badly upon politicians, unions, teachers and parents, who seldom provide adequate leadership.

Sport I enjoyed and still do. It always played a large part in my life. I played tennis, cricket and football; though only in school class teams. Although I did take part in interschool under 16 tennis matches and still have a note book with the scores of one match in 1939, against Unley High School. 1944 was the next time I saw the captain of that Unley High team; he became my flight commander on an RAF Squadron, No 35, of the élite Path Finder Force of the Royal Air Force, Bomber Command. I also took part in the athletics carnival between classes. But like my scholastic achievements I was an average youngster who enjoyed playing all sports. It was not until 1939 that I found a sport I could excel in, lacrosse. Not played at ATHS though! It was played on Saturdays. Starting then as a schoolboy, playing in the morning and as a ‘C’ grade player in the afternoon. I was in ‘A’ grade in mid 1940. At the end of the war I began again, eventually becoming captain of the Brighton ‘A’ grade team in 1947. These leadership roles later in life reflect upon the leadership education I received at the Tech.

1936 was the centenary of the foundation of SA and I was involved in that. There was a big display at the Adelaide Oval. I still have several medals I was given as a ‘participant’. But I feel I participated as part of the Brighton Primary School group – so maybe we had been learning routines for this year in the year beforehand; so it had to be that way.

Mr Cannell¹⁷ was my new first year master, a tall, slimmer and younger man than Mr Haskard. He motivated me somewhat and I did better in my second year. He was also a good sportsman.

Late 1937 into 1938 was the time of the polio epidemic in SA. Prior to the normal commencement of school in 1938 we were instructed, by ATHS, to have a month at home before returning to school. We did lessons by correspondence, but to help with our studies we were allowed to mix with one or at most two other students. I did my studies with an old Brighton Primary school mate, Roly Gregory, who was a year behind me in those primary days, but he now joined me at ATHS. Roly was a good sportsman and played cricket and shot on the .22 rifle range at ATHS. He was also a prefect. It may seem odd but I still clearly remembering riding my bike south along Brighton Road and turning right into Edwards Street where Roly lived and I rode over a match box (one always rode over small leaves and such things to see how accurately one could steer one’s bike) only to find the box was full of very sharp pointed tacks, so I had a number of puncture holes in the tube which I had to repair before I could ride home!

A special assembly on the eve of Coronation Day 1937 showed what we thought of the monarchy in those days. Patriotic songs were sung with gusto – as was the wont of the day. Also a group of boys from Melbourne Technical School was welcomed. One was a guest in our house, Max Cropely. We were to have made a return visit to Melbourne later in the year and I would have stayed with the Cropely family; sadly the polio epidemic caused that trip to be cancelled. I recall school assemblies were always concluded with the singing of the national anthem, God Save the King. A later assembly with war clouds around, I can clearly recall the heartfelt singing of For Those in Peril on the Sea, Men of Harlech and Land of Hope and Glory. All the old patriotic songs were well known by both scholars and teachers alike. About 90% thoroughly enjoyed singing, good and bad as they may have been!

Assemblies were held in the morning of each Friday, I think. Notices would be given as to any special projects or functions or outstanding news items. Or to meet old scholars who had done well in business or, when war appeared imminent, those who had done well in the Australian Military Forces. For speech night at the end of the year with prizes, there were choral items by the school; parents were invited. The school prided itself on the singing qualities of the students. First year male students were responsible for setting out the seats. There was much hilarity in doing this, when authority was not present.

Anzac Day was usually celebrated the day before, with a special assembly in the main hall. For all of the years I was there an artillery lieutenant in the CMF, Don Smith, blew the Last Post and Reveille on the bugle. Several times he addressed us. In later life I was an up and coming cadet surveyor employed as a draftsman in the drawing office of the Department of Lands where he worked as a draftsman. Many of the scholars would be in the crowd watching the always well-attended Anzac Day parade. Anzac Day was a real day of memory. As was Armistice Day in its turn.

We had a special assembly on every 11th of November with appropriate addresses from leading citizens. I can still recall the whole city and suburbs coming to a complete standstill for three minutes at 11am on November the 11th in honour and remembrance of those who had died for their country. Similarly, when a funeral procession drove past; all persons on the footpath would stop and turn inwards towards the hearse and the males would doff their hats as a sign of respect. Then felt hats were worn by nearly all men. No cars would ever drive past a funeral procession.

ATHS participated in a number of projects and also made special arrangements, with other like schools in the Adelaide area, to engage in young people’s concerts, charity work, sporting events and the Student Christian Union. The school tried to teach us how to live and achieve happiness. To attain that, it was required to live a life that was true and just and honest. Also that one should not be just self-serving, one should also be prepared to serve the state, which certainly echoed my father’s sentiments. He used to tell me that it was a matter of pride to pay one’s income tax, it was the price one paid for the honour of living in South Australia. (In those days income tax was only paid to the state.) I have never forgotten that.

I scribbled a lot of verse during my early life, including my time in the RAAF and with the Path Finder Force of the RAF from 1943 to 1945. I submitted some to the school magazine; I stilI enjoy writing poetry. I was also much interested in art, this being gained from our ATHS class visits to the state’s art gallery, where we were instructed by a Mr McCubbin, a real character, dressed in colourful artistic gear, beret and all. I still hold that interest and painted six small water colours of scenes from my wartime operational flying.

We also went to the SA museum. The school was always very keen to widen our level of interests beyond the classroom. To aid in this I joined a pen friends’ club and corresponded with friends of both sexes in Victoria, NSW and WA; also in New Zealand, Canada, USA and the UK. It was very enlightening. I still have a wide circle of friends from around the world with whom I maintain regular contact.

Annual school picnics were very much a part of school and business life in those days and the ATHS school picnic was a grand affair held towards the end of the final term. Only three terms a year in those days and many more days at school. For the picnic the whole school would travel up in a special train to one of the many great ‘spots’ in the Belair National Park. The prefects and teachers had a busy time in keeping the few ‘active’ final year students (usually) within the bounds of ‘accepted’ decency. I recall in my last year that one couple was ‘caught at it’ by Miss Topperwein, head of the commercial courses. I think she had been ‘tipped off’; Mr Moyle ‘held court’ in the guard’s van on the way home; here he interrogated the couple – and any witnesses. The two were expelled immediately and never returned to school. A terrible blow for any ATHS scholar. However ‘Siddie’ Moyle, although a hard task master, had a warm heart and he made arrangements for the two expelled students to sit their final exams. Mr Moyle always appeared to me to be a very fair person. Devious people he detested but if one were honest one got a good hearing. He was well respected by most pupils. At that time I did not appreciate just how long he had been head at ATHS.

The classrooms for the Leaving technical students overlooked the nurses’ quarters of the Royal Adelaide Hospital and many boys enjoyed being ‘peeping toms’ looking in on the occupants of the bedrooms there. I have a fair idea that some of the nurses were quite deliberately provocative in their ‘activities’, much to the delight of the watchers. Senior masters Hahn¹⁸ and Canney, whose classrooms had the view, tried to ensure such behaviour was ‘scotched’. They were seldom successful.

The boys had the average interest in sex for their age group; most, like me, being very under educated in this area! I recall the wide but covert circulation of copies of the very risqué and lengthy piece of verse entitled The Confidential Secretary. She was a most versatile young lady. It was quite the ‘rage’ of the day. Then there were the boys who had ‘dirty’ postcards which found a ready number of viewers. One I still recall was entitled Lasseter’s Last Ride. It was hardly of historical content. It seemed to me that most came from those who had contact with sailors.

Male and female students were not allowed to walk down the street together, even if they were going, say, to the Adelaide railway station and would be catching the same train home – in fact their parents might be quite close friends. We were not supposed to sit together on the train; if seen by a prefect we could be reported. But when attending the annual staging of the Shakespearean plays we had studied during the past year, the sexes used to mix outside the theatre even though teachers were present. But as the seat reservations were made by the school, the sexes were kept well apart for the actual performance.

Smoking was definitely not allowed but some of the older boys ‘lit up’ in hidden corners at lunch time. I guess some of the girls may have done so too, but as stated before we were not supposed to speak with them and were segregated by a fence, patrolled by teachers. I recall I did once buy a box of five Cooee brand cigarettes and hid them in a spot under a boxthorn bush near the Hove railway station. Cigarettes were expensive to buy. Others boys smoked a piece of cane, which was very hot on the lips and the throat. Despite my early trials I did not really become a smoker because I was keen to be fit, although I dabbled with it from about 1950 to 1970.

I never ever heard of, or noted, a school boy who had been drinking; but I guess some did. I recall the senior master, Hurtle Hahn, drank beer, because one could smell it on him sometimes – not often – and only after lunch break. He had a favourite hotel in Rundle Street; I bet he did not go near Mr Moyle at such times! The teachers always presented well in dress, manners and speech. They were always good role models for us.

ATHS was a good school. I enjoyed my time there. I still have several good friends from there. The late Reg Sprigg AM, who was three years ahead of me at Tech, was a close friend over many years, from 1948 until his death in 1994, during which time he was a senior geologist in charge of regional geological surveys with the Mines Department, then with his own international company, Geosurveys. During some of this time I was the founder and captain in command of the government aerial survey unit, which performed all of the aerial photographic mapping surveys for our state government and also for other states as well.

ATHS was always clean and neat and tidy. Basically from quality work of the school cleaners and secondly because we participated in the clean up of any mess our fellows left – which was reasonably rare. No mess was allowed in a classroom when a class ended. The teacher would ensure no small scrap of paper, or any other item was left lying about. The same level of cleanliness was shown in the areas where we lunched and also played sport. That level of cleanliness was part of every school I attended and it was carried on into my training days in the RAAF. The major cleaning plan being a long line of persons abreast, to ‘sweep’ across the school grounds and pick up every single item of rubbish; in the RAAF it was called an ‘Emu Parade’.

ATHS brought together some very bright youngsters, of both sexes, from all walks of life, coming from city and suburbs and from the near and remote country areas. This spread gave us all a broader outlook on life.

Not so much for me as I had relatives in various country areas whom I visited regularly on school holidays, and they us; but for those, very much city folk, I considered it was a positive point in their education. The school taught self discipline and maintained the highest moral standards of the day, mainly based on religious teachings. And it was expected by all students that that would be the case. At least 90% would have been totally receptive to this approach. But we were only human beings with all of the frailties that exist in that grouping.

Apart from my name being in the school magazine for passing the Intermediate and Leaving examinations, I only got one other mention and that was for captaining the ‘paddle crew’ which came second in the races held at Weeroona Island, during the school visit in 1938. Weeroona, located off the coast not too far north east of Port Pirie, was only an island at high tide. It had fairly basic facilities with dormitory type sleeping and eating quarters. But it was great fun for all – specially for some who had never been away from their parents. On this holiday we learned much about the surrounding countryside and its industrial potential. In the area there were a number of good jobs potentially available for well graduated technical students at the smelters located at Port Pirie, ship building and all of the associated professions and trades at BHP Whyalla, plus the various mining activities at Iron Knob. The extensive pine forests, pastoral areas, beaches and harbours were also included in the places visited.

While at Weeroona there was a number of rugged types of sporting events in which all had to participate. I was selected to pick a paddling team of six to represent my class. We came second in a very close final race, after having beaten other teams in three previous heats. I can still recall Mr Moyle raving about what magnificent shoulders I had – developed from playing lacrosse, but also I regularly lifted 112 lbs (51 kg); it being an anvil my father had; he also had a forge and made a large number of items with this equipment, including the robust luggage carrier for his car. This was the blacksmith’s trade he had learnt in order to become a fully qualified miner at the Wallaroo Mines.

As war approached we would be ‘briefed’ on the international situation, at school, in assembly and were kept well abreast of world and local news of the moment. Also I collected the Advertiser from my father’s gladstone bag each night when he came home from work. He would take the paper to read and pass the time riding to and from work in the train and tram. He also took his lunch, with a thermos flask of tea in his kitbag. I can clearly recall the slightly yellow colour of the paper the Advertiser was printed on. Very few photographs though – mainly sketches were used. Regular use of photos came a little later on. Sketches were always used in advertising. A number of students thought in terms of becoming well paid commercial artists; good ones were much in demand. It is interesting to remember the small ‘paras’ which gave quite vital news of happenings around the world. Just six to eight lines of cable news say, about an earthquake in Persia five days earlier, or battles with the Afghans in the Khyber Pass; strikes and lockouts in the USA, Hitler on the way to his murderous acts. Similar items, which today we see on TV virtually as they happen, then read much written about them in the newspapers.

The pace of life was so much slower in those days, but we were raised at that pace – just as youngsters of today are born into a world, which to them is ‘normal’. So what is normal? But human beings do not change – it is technology that changes and the way humans use it. We were taught to innovate! And at Tech I was aware I knew more than my parents did – but I guess that has always been the way of things. (All we did not know was what real life was about and I now know it takes years to learn that!)

To further this end we would have successful students, businessmen or teachers address us on how they had succeeded and what they saw as the future potential development in their areas of expertise. They spoke to us either in class, or occasionally in assembly, for either technical or commercial students; sometimes both school groups combined. Through these lectures the school tried to instil in us a need to look to the future in a very positive way, with an open but inquisitive mind.

To aid us all in a more ‘gracious’ development and to pave the way for social success, in our final year, if students desired, and had written parental approval, they were given some lessons in ballroom dancing during one lunch hour a week, or after normal school hours. An end of year school ball was held each December, but only for final year students. I was keen on dancing and in 1939 I had some dancing lessons from the Aubrey Hall School of Dancing. Mr and Mrs Hall held classes at the Glenelg Town Hall every Thursday night. I could only go during school holidays. So I was ready for the big event.

The ATHS Ball in 1939 was held at the Norwood Town Hall. I think they were all held there for some time. This was the biggest social night of my life so far and, being 16 years of age, I had a driver’s licence and luckily I was allowed to have the use of the family car. I have forgotten what I had to do to be able to use it, but I’m sure there would have been a number of chores I would have had to carry out, both before and after the event. At that time there would have been very few of the boys going to the ball who would have been able to use the family car, so I felt I was among the élite! Anyway to have the use of it was marvellous from my point of view as the girl I was ‘keen’ on lived on the other side of town, at Kensington Gardens, and I recall I felt pretty lucky to be able to take this lass out. She was very popular.

I guess there were a number of provisos re my use of the car, but the only one I can clearly remember was the requirement to stay at the home of my father’s eldest sister, Beatrice Penhall, who lived with her husband and three sons in Queen Street, close to the Parade, Norwood. This was arranged by correspondence as neither of the families had a telephone at home – although my father had one at his business address. So I was able to collect the young lady from her home and meet and speak with her parents; they could also see the type of character who was taking their daughter out. I was well dressed in a suit. I know I had a pure silk scarf around my neck that my grandmother had crocheted for me and I seem to recall having white gloves to wear so as not to soil the young lady’s dress! All in all we both had a grand night. It was all well supervised by school teachers and no couple was allowed out together through the entrance doors until the end of the Ball, unless parents came to claim their youngsters. I drove the lass home to her waiting parents, no kissing and cuddling, then back to my aunt’s, arriving a little after midnight. I had to get up fairly early, was fed a big breakfast and I arrived home in plenty of time for the family to go to church by car on Sunday morning.

Regarding telephones, my parents, like so many others, never had one in the home and during the war years their installation was very strictly controlled. They did not get one until 1945 and that was only approved because my brother was a high school teacher. In 1947 when I built my own home only a block away, I could not get permission from the Post and Telegraph authorities to have a ‘phone installed, but I could, and did, have an extension from the existing family ‘phone. My brother had organised the original installation. In those days business was carried out in business hours. It was a real luxury to have a telephone in the home. The service was not that good either and it was relatively expensive.

I left school with a reasonable pass in the Leaving Certificate, but in those depression days jobs were very hard to come by, no matter what. After many unsuccessful written applications and personal interviews and still being unemployed, I just had to take any job so I could pay my way at home; one was always expected to do that. Through a friend of my father’s I was given a labouring job as a fettler at Hercus Engineering, grinding burrs from metal castings! A very dirty job. I rode my bike from Hove to Mile End, rain or shine, six days a week! What a blow to the ego of a person who saw himself as a draftsman on the first step to being a surveyor and who did not the least like to get his hands so dirty! Still, in the end, after about seven months, I was appointed to a job as a clerk in the Department of Lands, a first step to my main goal – surveying.

Through all of this I was a financial life member of the ATHS Old Scholars Association. They held a number of good functions each year, the prime event being the annual Ball, held at a ballroom on North Terrace, somewhere near the school. They were always great fun. Part of the then ritual scene was the procession of males coming in with their kitbags full of ‘drinks’, which they kept under the table. I had ‘signed the pledge’ so I did not drink alcohol – in fact did not do so until I was 28! At the balls it was interesting to meet up with old acquaintances and learn what kind of job they had finally obtained. Many of us too were taking added studies, at night, at the School of Mines. Some time after I enlisted in the RAAF I lost track of the ATHS Old Scholars Association, or they lost track of me! However I am quite interested now they have established contact again.

I commented before about the religious background to schooling which was with us all in my days of early education, also my large personal involvement in the church. That has all gone now. The war and the large number of very good friends I now have amongst the German ex Luftwaffe types who were trying to kill me as I was bombing their cities and sometimes killing their families, have made me realise that affection amongst all is necessary for peace and that if one succeeds or fails it is not a matter of god, it is a matter of man. The families of many of the Germans were devout Christians and they were busy praying to the same God for ‘deliverance’ from the enemy as were the families of Allied servicemen. No one really had their prayers answered.

I consider the combined ATHS-School of Mines education was of a very high standard for the times. I was glad I went there. As a specialist air navigator in war and peace for many years the basic skills in drawing and maths, which I learned at Tech, helped me greatly, as did the development of the capacity to think quickly and positively in any situation. Air navigation was the one profession that really ‘clicked’ with me. I was totally enthralled by it. When I look at today’s incredibly accurate, simple to use, satellite navigation positioning systems, and I think of the complicated, old-fashioned methods I had to use for most of my flying life, I am pleased that I was able to succeed so well. Also the background I received from my ATHS education served me well as I took more and more administrative control in the various organisations with which I worked, until I became the acting general manager of Airfast Pty Ltd, at that time the third largest operator of commercial helicopters in the world. Airfast was based at Sydney, but operated widely in Asia, the Pacific and Australia.

In summary: education is the life blood of any nation. Taking into account the times of my educational period, I consider the education system of primary, secondary and tertiary learning served the individual, industry and the country far better than it does today. I consider the technical schools played a vital part in Australia’s ability to grow incredibly rapidly and so meet the urgent needs to answer the unexpected technical challenges in the critical days, for Australia, of World War II.

What concerns me for the future is that education standards of the day have lost the common touch! We need to ensure that all are computer literate. Children will soon be able to do all of their scholastic learning and take their exams sitting at home at their computer console. However, will they have the humanity skills that will allow them to live and work with others? Will our leaders approve of cloning people to meet whatever ‘targets’ they wish to achieve? Today there are all too few caring and sharing skills taught. Will we have youngsters entering the world with the skills required to allow interaction with other humans on a world-wide basis? If not, we will have lost the plot, and that will be sad for all of us.

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