Tuesday, 19 September 2023

A repost from yesteryear.

 

A repost from yesteryear.

When was yesteryear? How many years have to pass before one becomes a ‘yester’?

The Oxford Dictionary defines yesteryear thus:

 /ˈjestərjɪr/ [uncountable] (old-fashioned or literary) ​the past, especially a time when attitudes and ideas were different.

 I was wondering what I had written about in September of 2009, the year I started blogging, and came across the following.


Rockets and Explosions


Barry, aged 15, three years before I met him and before boxing had remodelled his nose.

  Barry has always had a lively inquiring mind and a need to test theories for himself. When he was around 15 years old, he became interested in creating rockets. Acquiring the components was simple enough and he entertained himself trying different ‘recipes’, concoctions he discovered in the Public Library. All fuses were ‘Jetex’.

A by-product of the rockets was explosions. On one occasion while testing the latest prototype in his back garden the rocket flew off at speed into the next-door neighbour’s cabbage patch, destroying it.

A far more serious event happened at school when the rocket propellant Barry was trialling badly scorched and blew a hole in the cricket pitch. The experiment had been conducted at night and he had selected a test site in the middle of the sports field as far as possible from habitation.

 Not being a cricketer he was unaware that the chosen location was destined to be the coming season’s cricket pitch. (Bear in mind that this was in Kent, one of the eighteen first class cricket counties in all of which cricketing is taken very seriously. Kent, together with Sussex, is the birthplace of the sport. It is believed that cricket was invented by children living in the Weald in Saxon or Norman times.)

 The groundsman was very unhappy the following morning, muttering that the last time this happened was during WW2 when a German aircraft bombed the place.

A search for explosive substances revealed that Barry’s locker was a veritable jet propulsion lab. Unaware of the fracas he had caused, Barry was ordered to report to the headmaster’s study where he was presented with the evidence of the locker and the cricket pitch. He feared uncomfortable retribution.

 The head, a former Colonel during the Second World War and a Quaker, took a most enlightened view and, though he left no doubt in Barry’s mind that his activities had been noted and disapproved of and were not to be repeated, informed him that his punishment would last for two terms; he was ordered to report to the chemistry master and attend compulsory after-school lessons on explosives. He concluded, 'If you are going to do this sort of thing then you will do it properly and under supervision and ONLY under supervision.'

 It transpired that the chemistry master had been in the SOE (Special Operations Executive) during WW2 and knew a thing or two about 'doing it properly' as far as explosives were concerned. Barry learnt much and effected his future 'experiments' under the guidance of his ex-SOE mentor.

Eventually other interests developed and rocket-making became a thing of the past. Many years later, Barry was sitting with a very senior member of the armed forces waiting for a meeting to start. They were of a similar age and started reminiscing about school days and it emerged that he also had carried out similar 'experiments' in his youth. The difference was that he was never caught.

 Postscript: Barry recalls these events with some horror - but it was not at all uncommon for schoolboys to engage in dangerous activities. Even schoolgirls in chemistry laboratories could be observed mixing various chemicals 'to see what would happen.' I certainly did. Nothing ever happened, in my school anyway, but school pupils were poorly supervised in the days before 'Health and Safety' ruled.

20 comments:

  1. Who knew about the dangerous activities and allowed them to continue - the school principal? parents? local hospital?

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    Replies
    1. Different times, different worries in the late 50s/early 60s.

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  2. I would have loved to learn about rockets and other explosives.

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  3. Imagine nowadays buying explosives etc to make rockets. Straight to the terrorist gaol. It's a nice story and science rooms were very dangerous spaces. Fortunately the gas to feed bunsen burners had a strong smell and was quickly detected when a tap might 'accidentally' knocked on.

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    Replies
    1. A terrorist in the making he could have been - but wasn't. The smell of bunsen burners - never to be forgotten!

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  4. I was never involved in anything loud at school,
    like explosions...mostly more quieter things...
    I was involved in Science though..Especially Biology...
    One year, as 'Parents Day' was approaching..Mr (soapy)
    Luxton..as me to dissect and display and label a mouse..
    So, on the morning of the 'Parents Day' l started...all the
    'tools' were laid out, so l started...about an hour or so,
    later...Mr Luxon, walked by...leaned over, and jokingly said,
    "Willie..should'nt you have made sure the mouse was
    dead, before you started"...HeHe! Strange how the name
    Frankenstein stuck with me for time afterwards...! :).
    🐭🐁🐭🐁🐭🐁🐭🐁🐭🐁🐭🐁🐭🐁🐭🐁🐭

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    Replies
    1. I never had to dissect anything and would have been horrified to be expected to. A few years later I would have found it fascinating.

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  5. My Grandmother's mahogany kitchen table bore the scars of my Uncle's experiments making fireworks. Despite the hardness of the wood the table had a large burn scar in the centre. My Uncle may have been suitably chaste at the time but noone ever tired of telling the story.

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  6. So he didnt go on to bomb disposal then,

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    Replies
    1. Self-preservation intervened. He went into Signals.

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  7. Oh goodness. My dad was in bomb disposal during the war. He always said that they sometimes had to use a piece of string to detonate the bombs. Eventually the string would too short and he had to send to supplies for another piece...

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  8. It's unbelievable what and how they had to deal with. I have the utmost respect for bomb disposal people.

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  9. Oh dear ... I'm glad to hear Barry's experiments were taken in hand. I wish the same had happened with an ex-boyfriend of mine from way back. He had the same interests as Barry, but unfortunately lost his left hand while experimenting ... xxx

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  10. Oh, that's dreadful - poor chap. x x x

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  11. That reminds me of my chemistry teacher who wanted to show us I don't remember what, anyway the tubes exploded and he was pink from top to bottom ! Of course we were not allowed to laugh, but we did !

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  12. Impossible not to laugh at a pink teacher!

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  13. OH. MY. GOODNESS. He's lucky to have survived to tell the tale!!

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  14. Yes, he was. Others haven't been, but boys will be boys . . .

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