I arrived at Headfort on a hot September day in 1972, in a Beetle driven by my mother.(Beetles were not cool then). Miss Long was there to take away our tuck. My tin was tall and cylindrical. Everyone else's was square. The other new boys were Cubitt, Podmore, Ogilvy and Watt. How tortuous and repetitive the jokes were.
"What's your name ? "
"Watt "
"Don't say What to me "
Fletcher mi was a giant who wore long corduroy trousers. So did Brownlow, Boyd and Stoney. Most pockets bulged with marbles, hankies penknives and bitter oranges which wouldn't peel.
One term ffrench-Davis arrived. He wore corduroy shorts. David Williams arrived. he sucked his thumb and not even Mrs Leyden could stop him. We three did a lot of illegal things, like going to the woods, finding a boat down by the New Bridge, killing pheasants and running away from the terrifying gamekeeper Joe Ryan, who would shoot corn at your legs.
The Great Escape starred Tod Watt, Neil Slevin and Bert Reynolds. They stole torches (one was mine) and VI Form bikes and cycled past Johnny Grimes on the drive.
Jack Sweetman broke the record for the loudest shout ever when ffrench-Davis, twenty yards from the line and with no-one to beat, went for the drop goal, which skidded along the ground in the direction of 2nd Game.
Watty, or Andrew Watson, was the cleverest boy at the school. He once tried to get drunk on wine-gums from McCarthy's.. David (Boss) Wild read out his scholarship marks at Tea and gave us all free periods. Watty had never been more popular but remained indifferent to his new status and carried on with his favourite pastimes, including sailing paper boats across the puddles in the Stable Yard.
Other highlights - the disappearance of Dizzy from the Lower VI. He was found in pieces in the moat. An elaborate model ship, made by Tim MacDougald, disappeared without trace. One day a girl arrived in Lunch Line. Her name was Sasha Musgrave and shortly afterwards she was joined by , Sophie Dobrzynski,Katie O Connell, Nicola Ward and Laura Daly. The unwritten constitution said that you didn't talk too much with the girls. Still, they improved our rugby performance. No-one forgets the beautiful sight of Katherine Morton gliding from Headfort Court to the swimming pool. In those days, cricket matches were not rained off. In winter you couldn't break the ice on the puddles. Fires blazed in the classrooms and "Logs" was a punishment. On weekends the big guns would come and help the Marquess blast the pheasants out of the sky and distract us from Bill (Chiefy) Wild, who would hurl our Latin books furiously and put us in DT.