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Dave 62-65
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June1942
THE PAPER SHORTAGE
IF YOU'VE GOT A THOUGHT THAT'S HAPPY
BOIL IT DOWN.
MAKE IT SHORT AND CRISP AND SNAPPY
BOIL IT DOWN.
WHEN YOUR BRAIN ITS COIN HAS MINTED.
DOWN THE PAGE YOUR PEN HAS SPRINTED
IF YOU WANY YOUR EFFORT PRINTED..
BOIL IT DOWN
TAKE OUT EVERY SURPLUS LETTER
BOIL IT DOWN.
FEWER SYLLABLES THE BETTER..
BOIL IT DOWN.
MAKE YOUR MEANING CLEAR: EXPRESS IT
SO WE' KNOW NOT GUESS IT
THEN, MY FRIEND, ERE YOU ADDRESS IT..
BOIL IT DOWN.
CUT OUT ALL THE EXTRA TRIMMINGS..
BOIL IT DOWN.
SKIM IT WELL-THEN SKIM THE SKIMMINGS..
BOIL IT DOWN. WHEN YOU'RE SURE TWOULD BE A SIN TO CUT ANOTHER SENTENCE INTO.
SEND IT ON, AND WE'LL BEGIN TO
BOIL IT DOWN.
(This is the best bit of sarcasm we have seen, it it a common complaint of the school magazine editors)
THERE Is NOTHING much to laugh at these days, but we must confess to a feeling of compression rather than of depression.
The Editor
7 May 2025
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Dave 62-65
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Below are a couple of stories from our school magazine The Goldonian March 1941.
Stories about Goldings during the War years, appropriate to the 80year celebration of V.E. Day
For more stories they are on our stories page click from the front page
6 May 2025
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Dave 62-65
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SPUDS BEFORE SPORT
A little before the the start, idly I surveyed what had been but a short while
Second Eleven football pitches and this was only another four were soon to come under the relentless plough. (That is not what our expert called it when he tried the contraption over a brick and rubble dump.)
I was rather glad to be alone at this moment; there are times when solitude soothes even the most despondent spirit.
It was as if these fields, which I had known so well, understood my feelings and would like to have told me that this was but a combing and scraping, that one day they would be green again, and with better grass than they had ever grown before.
Almost poetic, isn't it? And why not? Green fields have been the pet theme of poets for centuries, though I must admit that as a rhymester I am hopeless.
Of course, it makes us all a trifle sad to see our playing fields going like this, but we must harden our hearts, to our Country's need is far more important at present. Every acre ploughed means more vegetables grown and less we shall have to ship from abroad, thus allowing our vessels to be used in other ways, for the transport of those commodities so necessary to win the war. Yes, these fields are our friends: and, like true friends, they are going to help us to live, so that when victory is ours we can say with pride, Goldings did its bit !
S. E. CHANNER.
6 May 2025
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Dave 62-65
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THE GOLDONIAN march 1941
WAR-TIME CHRISTMAS AT GOLDINGS
WAR has spread its cruel fangs everywhere, even to the secluded spot of Goldings, but we still enjoy the festivity of Christmas.
On Monday morning in Christmas week, on the lips of numerous boys was the word “leave.'' So off they trooped to various railway and bus stations.
In the afternoon those boys who were less fortunate were entertained by Mr. Huntley, a conjurer from Hertford. He
started the programme off by doing a few tricks which made the boys' eyes open, and then finished the programme with
ventriloquism. On the Tuesday before Christmas Day we had leave down to Hereford, when 1 think most boys went to
the pictures.
Wednesday, 25th December was the day everyone was looking forward to. ln the morning we had a Church Service,
which was very short. Then came dinner, which consisted of baked potatoes, brussels sprouts, pork and stuffing; for second course we had Christmas pudding and custard, and the people of Hereford were very kind and gave us a shilling each. In the afternoon we had pictures in the Gymnasium, the picture being submarine patrol'
On Boxing Day we had another elm called ''What would you do chums? '' Friday morning we entered shops. ln the
afternoon we were treated to the County Cinema to see 'Margaret and George's Saturday we carried out our usual
routine.
We were glad to see many old Boys down here at Christmas-time.
D. King.
6 May 2025
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Dave 62-65
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WILLIAM GEORGE BATTEL
HE was known to most of us as Sam'' and his full name bounds strange to us. Perhaps this is the measure of our affection for him. He never was ''official'' and he never talked Big ' He loved the simple things of life and, instead of pining; as many do, for larger tasks and wider opportunities, he made sure that the job he had was well done. Luxury and wealth were never his, but who was' richer than he m the perfect love of wife and child and the affectionate appreciation of all he worked and lived with? THE MARCH 1941 colonial It was in November that Mr. Battell, anxious as always for the safety of the School, left his house during a particularly noisy evening. Bombs seemed to be falling near, grid he wanted to see if the School premises were safe. Unfortunately, one fell just outside his house as he stood by the door and he had no chance of saving himself. How desperately lorry we all were. His constant cheerfulness and unfaltering energy had made him so secure in all our hearts and everyone of us felt we had lost a friend. Perhaps these lines, borrowed from an unknown author, sum up our thoughts of him
“He was fallible and human, Therefore loved and understood By his fellow man and woman, Both the good and not-so-good; Kept his spirit undiminished, Never let down on a friend, Played the game till it was finished, Lived a sportsman till the end”'
For twelve years Mr. Battell had served the School in different capacities, but his last year as Bandmaster probably gave him the deepest joy, and the Band readily responded to his enthusiasm. But whether it was at work or it play, at football or cricket, he was always the same, a whole-hearted, unselfish leader.
To Mrs. Battell and to David we offer our deepest sympathy in the holy that the knowledge they have of his place in our hearts will in some measure help to sustain them m their cruel loss.
THERE WAS A BOMBING RAID OVER GOLDINGS, AND MR. BATTEL BEING CONCERNED FOR THE BOYS SAFETY, WALKED OUT OF THE DOOR OF THE PRINTERS, A PARACHUTE BOMB DROPPED AND KILLED HIM,
6 May 2025
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