The Derek Green Story

As promised [in earlier correspondence below], the Derek Green story, which starts at the end of our school exchange visit to Ettlingen at Easter 1964:

A group of us were waiting with suitcases, on the station platform, ready for our return journey to England. Derek marched up to us and said in an angry tone:

“Right, everyone get on the train, sit down and do not get up again!”

Apparently, unbeknown to us, he had just had a big row with one of the German teachers, who had been unreasonably rude to (or about) Mr Newcome. We exchanged puzzled looks but did as he asked. I was one of the last to get onto the train and, as a result, could not find stowage for my suitcase. In desperation, I abandoned it in the space by one of the doors, although it was clearly in the way. While waiting for the train to depart, I suddenly spotted a space on the racks and quickly got up and re-positioned my suitcase. Just as I sat down again, DG appeared, still raging.

“Haywood, I told you to sit down and not to move! Now sit down and do as I say!” he shouted.

Unfortunately, being a stroppy 16 year old, I immediately lost my cool at this injustice. I stood up, eyeballed Mr Green and replied in an aggressive tone:

“Look, Sir. My case was blocking the door, Sir, because I couldn’t find a space for it in the racks, Sir. Then I spotted a place in the rack, Sir, so I quickly got up, Sir, and put it in the rack, Sir, and then sat down again, Sir!”

At this point, I quickly sat down again. Derek, who at each successive “Sir” had turned a darker shade of purple (exactly as intended), said nothing – although his face was a picture. I imagine he wanted to murder me on the spot but somehow, by a super-human effort, managed to walk away in silence.

The atmosphere was electric for a few minutes but gradually faded to normal. I don’t know whether I was considered a hero or an idiot by my fellow travelers, probably a mixture (but favouring idiot). The journey to Calais passed off without further incident and we boarded the ferry for Dover. Of course, ‘the lads’ made a beeline for the bar and we were all served pints, despite our tender years – and despite the terrible consequences if Dr Peake ever found out.

Just as I was downing the last drops of my pint, Derek Green appeared at my shoulder, smiling. My whole life passed before me in those few seconds, as I wondered how on earth I was going to explain expulsion to my parents. Then Derek spoke:

“Hello, Haywood. Want a drink?”

In my book he was a great man from that day forward.

…

Hope you find the story vaguely interesting. It was fear of having to teach schoolkids like me that kept me out of the profession!

I shall watch the site with interest to see if others from my year make contact. The biggest problem is making people aware of the existence of the site, of course. I happened to watch a programme on Sky TV that mentioned it — but otherwise would have remained in blissful ignorance. I guess Bilborough would turn up via one of the search engines … must try it some time as a test.

By the way, how did you finish up in Canada? …

Kindest regards.
Chris Haywood