Ian Granland 

A STORY OF LIFE'S ADVENTURES

  MATRAVILLE SOLDIERS SETTLEMENT
 PUBLIC SCHOOL

My parents were particularly keen to get me to school. 

My two sisters and brother, who were much older than me, all went to Malabar Public School so when I turned four in August 1952 Mum took me off to enrol.  She spoke at some length with the headmaster who refused to take me mostly I believe because of my age.  Also I understand  it was because I had turned up mid year and apparently he wasn’t taking any new students but instead referred my mother to the neighbouring Matraville Soldiers Settlement School, a distance of about 2km as the crow flies from where we were at Malabar.

The school was built in 1926 to cater for the children of returned soldiers from WWI and supplemented an ex-soldiers village which had been completed in the early 1920s.

The Matraville Soldiers Garden Village, or "the Settlement" as it was better known, was a housing estate for returned soldiers suffering injuries, war widows, and orphans. Unique in many ways, the Settlement was built on seventy two and a half acres of land on the corner of Beauchamp Road and Anzac Parade. Special legislation, passed by the state government in 1917 had made land available for cheap housing to accommodate returned soldiers of the First World War.

The idea originated with the Voluntary Workers Association founded by Dr Arthur, Labor Member of the Legislative Assembly (NSW Parliament Lower House). They appointed a Board of Control, which supervised the project. Mainly sandhills, the land needed a great deal of work to be turned into a suitable site for housing.

Labour was almost entirely voluntary. Workers were sought from all over Sydney and included men, women and children. An advertisement appearing in the Sydney Morning Herald appealed to those "who desire to show their practical appreciation of what the fighting men have done for them" to contribute their services. On Saturdays, Sundays and holidays the volunteers moved sand, quarried sandstone and constructed roads and buildings. But another advertisement in the Sydney Morning Herald in 1919, after the Armistice had been signed, indicates that enthusiasm waned with the end of the fighting; "Last Sunday there were only about a dozen working shifting the sand and half of these were girl students from the University."

Materials for the buildings were found locally or brought by tram along Anzac Parade. Large sandstone blocks were cut from the quarries located at the Matraville end of Beauchamp Road, off Bunnerong Road. Bricks were delivered to a siding in Anzac Parade and then transported by dip-tray.  Transport remained a problem to the settlers, who had their furniture dropped at the junction of the only existing roads, then relied on friends and neighbours to half carry it to the dwellings.

All the houses were funded by the contributions of organizations and individuals. Rents were cheap at 7 shillings a week and were initially paid to the Board of Control.  The streets were all named after towns or regions in Europe where Australians were involved significant conflicts of WWI.  I think this is where my interest in war and battles started because as a little boy they were just place names to me but forever since inculcated in my brain.

One was Poziers Avenue.  It wasnt until I was writing this story that I found out the total Australian casualties at Poziers was a staggering 23,000 men, of whom 6,800 were killed.

I don't think my mother had any knowledge of the background of the village and undaunted by the distance my mother took me by the hand and we walked there from Malabar School.  She spoke to the principal, Miss Pickering, a single, elderly lady who had as her responsibility a school which at that stage and for some years had only proceeded to year 3 (infants).  From there the students would have to relocate to a school which provided a primary component for their further education.

The school accommodated only 3 classrooms and as numbers grew some of these became composite.  They were all housed in the one main brick building.

I was immediately enrolled in the kindergarten which was held in the larger of the rooms overlooking the playground and was contained by a series of concertina doors which could open up to an adjoining room and together doubled as a small auditorium.

For me school then consisted of getting paper cut out images of animals and colouring them in, a sleep in the afternoon and learning the basics of an education.  The teacher was a young lady.

In that first year my mother would walk me to school, a distance of just under one kilometre.

There were an incredible 42 kids in the kindergarten class, many of whom would continue with me in my education progression until I left high school.  Some lived over my way whilst others came as far as La Perouse and Little Bay, by-passing two other schools to get there.  I have attempted to show on this map on the left where most of the children from my classes over the years lived in relation to the school.

In the intervening years I often wondered why children from such a distant location would travel on the tram to attend the Soldiers Settlement School.  I can only speculate that perhaps the level of instruction and the integrity of the school was held in high regard.  Well that sounds like a good reason.

Of course at the school were lots of kids living in the surrounding WWI soldiers settlement houses.  These children were mostly grandkids of the older inhabitants.

The amenities at the school were spartan.  There were three entry points to the school building.  The main one from the then road it faced together with one other at both ends of the building.  At each of these entry points there was provision for children to hang their raincoats and leave their school bags etc.  At the eastern end there was a staff room.

A separate toilet block with washrooms was located on the far side of the play ground about 30 metres of so from the main school building.  Between the male and female toilets was a ‘weather room’.  This was an open room with a bench around the perimeter in which we used to sit to eat our lunch and it was also used as a shelter when it rained.

There was no canteen and only later a small shop was opened across the road on the eastern side of the school on a corner of an intersecting street which no longer exists.  The shop was operated by a Mrs Reynolds who made lunches for the children upon a pre-order and sold sweets, bread and milk etc.  It was a big deal to be the one who collected the lunches for the children in their class.  I and most of the pupils used to get their lunch here of a Monday when the bread was lovely and fresh.  On other days we would bring our cut sandwiches always wrapped in a thick grease proof paper enclosed in a brown paper bag.

The next year I moved into a class called ‘transition’.  Again it is speculation that this was for children between kindergarten and 1^st class or year 1 as it is now called.  This class was held in the auditorium which was really just a big room.  It had no stage or similar facilities. Miss Pickering was the teacher.

In 1955 I moved into 1^st class in one of the original classrooms, this one on the western side which had wrought iron desks bolted to the floor.  These had timber tops, a shelf underneath for books as well as a place in the right hand corner for an inkwell with a 300mm thin rebated section in which to lay pens and pencils.  This was a composite class of 1A and 2B.  The teacher was Leon Lentfer whom I was to again have three years later in 4th class (year four).  The school report from my half yearly examination is on the left.  You can see that I achhieved 362/400 and came 6th so there were quite a number of smart kids in my class.

By this stage my mother had ceased walking me to school and I would leave home at around 7.40am and amble down Caley Street, into Wassell, across Franklin into Knowles Ave then into the unsealed section of Menin Road and continue on to the school.

I would be in my own little world in these walks.  Looking at the houses, guessing who lived there, running between every second light pole as a test against myself and all the while carrying a leather school bag strapped over my shoulder.  My mind was alive with imagination.

Then, houses were only built on the southern end of Knowles Avenue between Franklin and Flinders Streets one of which was the house where my family first resided or boarded when they came to Sydney from Yarrawonga, Victoria in 1943.  Opposite was a vacant paddock.  There were none in Menin Road between Flinders St and Poziers Avenue.

In Pozieres Avenue between Menin Road and Knowles Avenue was an old military storage shed which later became the Matraville Migrant Hostel (as it was commonly known).  Its main entry was in Poziers Avenue extending almost to Menin Road. This 100 metre or so long building was mostly clad with fibro (containing that terrible asbestos ingredient) and divided into individual accommodation units or modules, each containing three rooms, a lounge room and two small bedrooms whilst the single men would have to bunk in together.

Migrant hostels, also known as immigration dependants’ holding centres, migrant accommodation, migrant reception or training centres or migrant workers’ hostels, were established after World War II to accommodate displaced persons and assisted migrants. The largest hostels were at Bonegilla (north-east Victoria) and Bathurst (NSW). Other hostels in New South Wales included Adamstown, Balgownie, Bankstown, Berkeley, Bradfield Park, Bunnerong, Burwood, Cabramatta, Cronulla, Dundas, East Hills, Ermington, Goulburn, Greta, Katoomba, Kingsgrove, Kyeemagh, Leeton, Lithgow, Mascot, Matraville, Mayfield, Meadowbank, Nelson Bay, North Head, Orange, Parkes, Port Stephens, Randwick, St Marys, Scheyville, Schofields, Unanderra, Villawood, Wallerawang and Wallgrove.

Migrants and their dependants were permitted to remain in the hostels from three to 12 months, and were given training to assist with resettlement. Some, but not many were able to stay longer and some also were moved on to other hostels in Sydney.  It wasn't easy to get enough money to purchase a house or event rent in those days.  Much of the early hostel accommodation consisted of disused army huts and other converted buildings. These were gradually replaced with purpose-built structures with improved facilities.

Work was also a problem for the immigrants who, for the most part, could not speak English or had little command of it.  Australian's attitude towards immigrants in that post war period generally was not that sympathetic although there were so many immigrants people soon got used to the system.  I think though they forgot that at one time or another they and their forebears were all immigrants.

The Department of Labour and National Service administered migrant hostels until 1948 when the Migrant Workers’ Accommodation Division was established within the Department to take over control. The Division was organised into three regional offices – located in Sydney, Melbourne and Adelaide – from which hostels throughout Australia were run. From January 1952, the administration of hostels was handed over to Commonwealth Hostels Limited, a Commonwealth owned company registered in Victoria and operated until 1978

The individual rooms did not go all the way to the ceiling in the accommodation but rather a common roof over the whole building.  The preparation and serving of meals was done in one big communal canteen or cafeteria.  Normally it was corn flakes, toast and jam etc., for breakfast whilst on Sunday they would get the added treat of bacon and egg.  There was a small shop just inside the entrance for incidentals and a manager in charge of the entire facility.

I can remember one time a man watched me walk along to school from the rear paling fence which surrounded the hostel.  He called to me in an attempt to get me to come closer to where he was standing but fearing the worst I just ran on.

I began to make friends at school the main one was Wally Adamson who lived at 17 Flinders Street, a sealed road (which was unusal then) and joined at the intersection of Menin Rd and Knowles Ave running through to Lawson Street.  In fact one of my sisters were friends with one of his older sisters.  I gained many other friends at the Settlement School some of whom I walked home with or played with in the breaks.

Wally Adamson’s father owned pinball machines, a relatively new fad in the hospitality industry and at the time he would forever have the machines in his garage carrying out maintenance work on them.  Wally had a younger brother and step sister who also lived there.  We became very firm friends in the 1950s but mostly only during school time.

I remember late in my time at the Settlement School Wally had found quite a bit of cash money which had been put in a shoe box under the house.  He made the mistake of telling one of the more larrikin types at the school who developed a temporary friendship with Wally until the treasure and its location had been exploited which was subsequently found out by school authorities.  It was fun then though to see Wally come to school with blue five pound notes and red ten pound notes in his pocket.  Such amounts I had never seen in my short lifetime.

I would sometimes walk home from school with Wally along Lawson Street then after he dropped off continue towards Malabar but normally first stopping at the ponds of water which collected on the vacant land opposite Flinders Street adjacent to the now Wilkes Ave., to play and catch tadpoles.

Les Gow and Freddy Walker also lived along that way and we would all walk together until it was time for me to cut through Blaxland or Oxley streets towards my home.  One time Freddy took me to ‘the incinerator’ which then was located at the end of Kain Ave Matraville overlooking then then small swampy valley across to Lawson Street.  (I suppose you had to live there to appreciate the location of all these streets I mention)

The incinerator was built in 1932 being one of seven in Sydney designed by Walter Burley Griffith in a very ‘art deco’ design.  Griffin, an American, had also designed the national capital: Canberra.  The incinerator had long ceased to be used for the destruction of rubbish and was when I 'discovered' it was s storage centre for WWII equipment.  It was demolished in the early 1960s.   Freddy and I accessed the dark and dingy building vide a broken lock on a discreet small door and fooled around with the army wireless sets for a while before I left for home.  The incinerator has was demolished years ago with houses built in it’s place and even and houses and roads constructed in the subsequently filled swampy wetland below it. Photograph with thanks to the National Library of Australia.

I was nearly always late home, dilly-dallying around; always finding something new which would interest me or chatting to people along the way.  Sometimes too after I would leave the school at 3.30pm I would walk towards Maroubra and into the elegant memorial park which was bounded on one corner by Anzac Parade and Beauchamp Road.  There, amongst the palm trees and shrubs was a mounted WWI cannon which I imagine was brought back from Europe as a captured war trophy.  I would play on it for ages pretending I was a soldier and visualising the conflicts this weapon must have been involved in giving orders to my imaginary soldiers.  There was a plaque on the gun providing details where the cannon was sourced but it is now long gone and have no idea if the plaque remained or not.

One time walking home in Knowles Ave., a girl who was a year or two older and one whom I considered quite rough, cornered me and attempted to tie me up with I imagine a view of inflicting some pain but I escaped and always managed to dodge her in the future.

Ironically years later in my twenties she seduced me at the Maroubra Seals Club for different reasons!!!

I always wanted to get home to listen to radio station 2FC, the ABC station, where Pete Smith had his pied piper show and The Childrens Hour - Argonaut's Club.

Radio was big for us then with shows like Biggles, Superman, Sea Hound and Tarzan.  All favourites of mine which I used to listen before and after dinner - if I was allowed.

There was a major change at the school during 1954 when two new timber adjoined classrooms were built on the 1½ hectare site adjacent to the toilet block but remote from the main building.

For the second time and in consecutive years I had a male teacher.  His name was Mr Burns who was quite elderly but failed to make an impression on me.  It was during this period that numbers at the school expanded dramatically, mostly due to the public housing which had been constructed in the area.

By this time the Department of Education purchased land approximately 250 metres or so south of the original school in Menin Road and behind houses facing Poziers Avenue.  The land was just a very unproductive sandy waste and remained that way until well after I moved onto high school at the end of 1960.  This site is where the present school now stands. The one acre area behind the soon to be built classrooms was so barren that we kids hardly ever ventured onto it.

The Public Works Department began constructing new timber classrooms on the site which was to become the primary section and later the position of the current school.  Each of these buildings was finished in that drab government grey paint of the day and the three, which were built over successive years, all looked the same apart from the first which included the staff room and headmaster's office at one end.

All of the buildings at the time were constructed with a verandah which was of similar length and about 3.5 metres wide.  It also had a railing at the edge around which continual seating was provided.  During our lunch break we had to sit in this area and were supervised whilst we ate.  The area at each end of the building which offered some protection was where we could hang our bags and hats etc.

Primary school was pretty much a disciplined atmosphere with the students were being watched and supervised almost all of the time.  I found this a stark contrast to high school.

Some roads in the surrounding streets were still unpaved and of course no kerb and guttering anywhere. 

A new headmaster had been appointed:  a Mr Walter Gates who drove a new Holden Special sedan which he parked in the then narrow Menin Road, outside the school gate.  He was always first to arrive at the school and last to leave.

He was single man, thin, about six foot in height (1.8m) in his early fifties whose wrinkled face was adorned with heavy framed glasses and always wore a dark blue suit.  I did not have much to do with him.

My year was the second to continue on to complete their schooling through to sixth class at the Soldiers’ Settlement so the year above me were always the first to occupy these new classrooms, as they moved up a grade, with each building comprising two classrooms (as previously described) which were built consecutively from 1955-6-8 & 9.  There was no new buiding in one of the years from 1955-59 and I am assuming (never assume) it was 1958.

In at least one of the years I was in the (new) Menin Road School I was in a composite class.  In 1960 however the two year six classes, of which I was a part, were the first to occupy the last of the (new) class rooms.  These were built at right angles to the rest and were the first and only (at that stage) to be constructed from brick.  The building also contained a second staff room.

It was then as the last building (of my time) was built that a small unsealed, apart from a bit of blue metal, carpark for the staff was constructed between it and an entry point off Lawson Street.  This area had provision for up to about 10 vehicles and of course Mr Gates shifted his there as soon as it was constructed.

The students washrooms and toilets were behind one of the classrooms adjacent to a lightly asphalted service lane which led from a double gate off Finucane Crescent and behind a row of houses which face Lawson Street.  This lane is no longer there.  In fact the school has changed so much it is hardly recognizable.

At the new school complex we did not have an auditorium or hall and so our assemblies were held on the asphalt playing area outside the classrooms closest to Menin Road.  This area also doubled as netball (or as it was called then, Womens Basketball) courts.  We would stand there each class in line with the younger classes in front whilst announcements were made by the headmaster and we sung the National Anthem which in that period of the nation’s history was God Save the Queen.

It was also there we would watch the truck from the Fresh Food and Ice Company deliver our ⅓ bottles of milk at 9.30am under a government funded scheme to ensure children of the day received milk.  As the numbers in the school grew so too did the milk however with no refrigeration these bottles often soured as they waited for distribution standing in the hot summer sun.  This milk scheme was discontinued by the Whitlam Government.

In my final year or so at the school we used flavoured straws through which we sucked the milk.  With the cream on top it made the drink much more inviting.  The fad only lasted a few months.

It was also there in 1959 that the first QANTAS Boeing 707 flew overhead one school morning and Mr Gates stopped the normal proceedings to point skywards telling us all of the new jet aeroplane arriving in Australia.

We had a P & C although neither of my parents were members.  We also had a Mothers Club and were regularly given a yellow card to take home on which our mothers would mark off the donation of one shilling each month which we would return with the card.

Upon payment of an additional joining fee all of the students became automatic members of the Gould Bird League.

Founded in 1909 to encourage the love and protection of Australian native birds, the name Gould League honours the work of John and Elizabeth Gould.

Gould League members were recruited via schools and received membership certificates and badges. Members were encouraged to enter competitions in bird mimicry, write stories and poems and attend 'bird-day concerts'.

Depending on how much money we paid in we would each receive a Gould Bird League Badge and a certificate.

I can remember on two or three occasions we would be bused into the city where we would watch mostly country children in a contest to mimic bird calls.  They were very, very good and it was always a great day which also got us away from school.

We also supported Dr Bonados Homes as a school and were given empty brown paper bags about the size of today’s black plastic garbage bags in which we were asked to put old clothes etc for use in the homes.

Each year a fete which was always held in the grounds of the old school and in the early days a fancy dress/dress up day which was always held on a Saturday.

I will never forget a time I told my mother at the very last minute that I would love to go in the fancy dress parade which was just a big circle of kids walking around and being judged for the best, the most original, best category etc.  Mum made up a pretty rough outfit for me to wear.  I never expected to win.

When I registered to participate I gave my name and particulars to the mother of a girl who was in a year higher than myself and who was acting as an official for the parade.  She looked at my very amateurish costume and said “you have no chance of winning” to which I replied that I didn’t care and was just there to have fun.  Some people are very selfish and nasty.  I didn’t know this woman from a bar of soap but she chose to abuse an eight year old.  The saving grace for me was that her daughter didn’t win either although she was done up like a pox doctors clerk – makeup and all.

As I said, neither part of the school (infants or primary) had a canteen whilst I was there.  Periodically the school would hold a ‘tuck shop’ where all the mums would be asked to make and donate special sweets and most of us would be given money by our parents to purchase some.  I always bought those round sticky toffees with hundreds and thousands on top which were presented in small cup cake paper molds.  They were very bad for our teeth but we didn’t care - boy did I pay for that later.

All the funds raised went to our P & C Committee which was used to purchase gear for the school and I think funded our annual Christmas Parties which were always celebrated in our respective class rooms.  I loved those days because I would always get a green GI fizzy drink and it tasted great and one type of drink I never normally had.  We would also get popcorn and a chocolate frog.  We wore party hats and had a fun time.

Each year we looked forward to our annual half day holiday on May 24 which was Empire Day when, particularly the boys and with our parents money, would buy crackers or ‘bungers’ and together with catherine wheels and rockets they would be let off amongst friends and family during the night.  This event was a long standing celebration in Australia.  I don’t know if it was also held in other Commonwealth  Countries.  Later it’s name was changed to the more political correct, Commonwealth Day but then abandoned as was the half day holiday.

The evening would be supplemented by a ‘Bon Fire’ which was really a heap of rubish with timber in it which we would all stand around letting off our fireworks.

The Bon Fires were always a chance for our fathers to rid their excess rubish which they had accumlated during the previous 12 months.  As I got older I would go from bon fire to bon fire letting off crackers.  The best part was getting up early the next day running around the various burnt out locations in an attempt to find undischarged fireworks.  We would always save these for a trip to the ‘tunnels’ which were WWII gun emplacements on the northern penilsuar at Malabar and listen to the great echo the crackers made in the enclosed space.  It would scare the rats and native animals and didn’t matter that you couldn’t hear for the next few hours!!

Writing or should I say, printing was done in our government supplied ruled exercise books.  We had to cover them.  We intially used government issued pencils which were a fawyn/light orange colour with normal lead.  I have included a couple of examples, both of which are from two books I still have from that time. 

As you can see on the left the first I think was in 1956 or 57 and talks about a a black cat called 'Sambo', not a politically correct name to use today, who was going to be eaten by a lion.

The second is from 1958 when we had graduated from pencil to ink.  We were not permitted to use biros but rather a pen and nib each of which were owned by the students.  To write, the pen was dipped into the ink which was contained in a small plastic cylindrical container about 45mm deep and 25mm across with an open flat flanged top which fitted into a hole in the desk located on the top right had side.  This was called an ink well.

Moving from pencil to ink was a big deal and something not granted by the teacher automatically.  Our writing had to be of an acceptable standard to do so.  I was about the fourth student in my class to begin writing with ink.

Scripture was held weekly at the Soldiers Settlement School as it was in all state schools.

I was Church of England and being basically an Anglican country, that religion dominated the school population.  The Rev. Mr Sumner was the Anglican clergyman at the Malabar Church and he was the one who took the scripture sessions.  These were OK to get out of school work but very boring.

In about 1957 I began (or was allowed) to ride my bike to school.  In fact I couldn’t wait to ride it there.  It was quicker and I could lairise doing it.  Unlike many contemporary boys of today we then were forever enhancing, repairing, cleaning and buying new things for our bikes at the time.  Nothing was a problem.  For parts I would take a tram into Maroubra and to the bike shop in Maroubra (Bay) Road, near the Commonwealth bank.  It may have taken some time but I would always get it fixed.  In fact I have been like that for most of my life.

The biggest lairising act was to clip an empty red Capstan cigarette packet to one of the back forks with a peg and let one end of the packet click across the spokes as the wheeled turned.  The resultant sound was really deep and throaty.

I was in the cubs (junior scouts) from 1955-59 and it was in the latter period that some students from the school were given a circular to take home to their parents about a sex education film which was to be shown at the infants school.  My father collected me from the Friday Night cubs in Perry Street at Matraville and whisked me to the school where we watched all about the ‘birds and the bees’.  Of course I was full of pretend questions, thinking I knew it all.

Around 1956-57 children from the Poziers Ave., ‘Migrant Hostel’ began to attend school in considerable numbers.  The hostel was only 100 metres distant and often they would come attired in their national dress mostly because I understand, they didn’t have many other clothes.  Several of the girls so dressed are in the second back row in this photograph.

In 1958 I am estimating we had up to 8 pupils in the same class as myself from the hostel.

It was around that year that one afternoon whilst having to visit the infants and whilst starting to walk home one of the boys in the same class, who for some reason did not attend school that day, appeared on the street near Hamel Road with a slug gun.

All the boys including myself were asking for a 'go'.  I said "Give us a shot" and with that he replied "I'll give you a shot alright", raised the gun to his shoulder, took aim and shot at me.  I had turned my back and from about 10 metres the slug hit me in the back.  It did not draw blood but somewhat stunned me.  I suppose if I had been a person of a different nature I would have remonstrated and possibly belted him.  But I wasn't.  I walked home never forgetting about the incident.  I didn't tell my parents.

In primary school, which I think I have made clear was the newer section of the school, we had our sports day each Thursday Afternoon at Matraville Park which is on the corner of Bunnerong and Jersey Roads.  We would walk there en mass.  I am estimating the number but at about 150 kids who would walk in class formation into Poziers Ave, past the migrant hostel, up Daunt Avenue to Poulet Street where we would turn right and then walk the 350 metres to the park.

We were put into ‘houses’ or groups as is the normal practice in schools.  There were four at the Soldiers Settlement School and students were allocated to their respective ‘house’ by means of alphabetical order.

It was in these ‘houses’, wearing a simple thin blue, red, yellow or green sash across our shoulders enveloping our bodies to identify us as we competed against each other in various sporting events.

When we first began our sports days there the area behind the park and half way along Jersey Road stored military equipment left over from WWII.  There were big searchlights and other interesting things we used to ogle over but we were separated from them by barbed wire fencing.

Sport for us was just a time filler.  Mostly we just played softball and then walked back to the school and home.  Around September the school would hold an athletic carnival to select kids to compete in the regional then state athletic carnivals.

I was always very good at athletics although up until about 5^th class could never beat classmate, John Hammond in the 100 yards race.  John incidentially lived in one of the three brick army houses at Cape Banks, which is right on the Coast behind the St Michaels Golf Course and I believe he would have had a difficult time getting to school.  I doubt if the houses are still there.

As I developed and my size grew it enabled me to win everything I entered.  100 yards, high jump, long jump etc. which got me selected to compete in the state carnival at the Sydney Cricket Ground in 1958-59 & 60.

It was always a gala event when our district would sit together in one corner of the now demolished Sheridan Stand at the SCG and cheer on the kids in their respective races.  I finished second in the 100 yards race in consecutive years but never achieved anything in the high or long jumps.

I tried my hand at cricket one year and in as much as I wanted to be good at it, I wasn’t although I loved bowling the ball down the driveway and up against the timber garage door at home playing against a make believe opposition and of course always getting them out!

At one stage in third class the school had an intra-school percussion band and whilst I really wanted to play some loud instrument only got as far as the triangle which certainly didn’t endear me musically.  I always had the feeling that the teacher gave me that role as payback for my sometimes disruptive (but not overly so) attitude in class.

My teacher that year was Mrs Spencer who came to the school and brought along her daughter who was placed in our class.  The girl was doll-like in appearance and quiet smart but moved on a year or so later when her single parent mother was again transferred.

In 1958 our teacher was Mr Leon Lenfer a thin young fellow who had only been transferred back to the city after working at a small school in the country.  He would often remark how we missed out on real things living in the city like a bunch of cockatoos flying over head and squawking so loud it was deafening.  I can remember him teaching us about personal hygiene and asking me to explain to the class how I washed my body in the bath or shower.  I had to be careful and told the class “you use a washer and soap.  Start with your face, body, legs, arms and then ….. bum”  the class erupted with laughter and although I knew he boxed me into a corner with the description was not that pleased that I came out with such an explanation.

I was probably a better than average student but could never apply myself as the respective teacher’s comments nearly always reflected on my report cards. 

Despite this I absolutely loved social studies which was a contemporary name for history.  In two annual examinations at primary school in this subject I received a mark of 200/200.  I guess it reveals why I have such a passion for history today.

In one examination we were asked what reward the convicts who completed the road over the Blue Mountains were given.  Of course the answer is their ticket of leave but I also added “and a free shirt” which we were told by a female student teacher of the time. My answer got a tick.

Fifth class in 1959 was my most productive year and I think it was because we had a teacher whom I liked and wanted to do good for him.  He was Mr Callaghan.  At 28 or so he was a single man who went on to gain his batchelor of arts degree whilst teaching us then moved on to South Sydney Boys High School in Maroubra Junction. 

He was innovative and I think got the best out of most of the kids in the class.

When he moved his replacement was an elderly teacher, a Mr “Bulldog” Fleming, as a straight swap from Sth Sydney Boys who taught class 6B in my last year at the school.

Mr Callaghan kept a box behind the entry door in which he encouraged the students to place general knowledge questions on a piece of paper.  Each week he would select questions from the box and if the student/s answered the question correctly they would get an early mark.

One of my question was: What is a Beefeater?  I thought it was a relatively simple question and in concert with our studies of the day but no-one could answer it.  Even today I think most people reading this would be hard pressed to answer. 

Oh, you want me to tell you?  OK.  A Beefeater is a guard at the Tower of London.

Wally Adamson and I used to play ‘intelligent’ games at school.  One was to tap out a morse code message on a drain pipe on one corner of a classroom building whilst the other would be at the diagonal opposite end deciphering it – all very high tech stuff!!!!

Before houses were built in Finucane Crescent, which is at the southern end of the school, a natural spring used to ooze water up out of the sand.  As very little kids we would play around it and obviously it would have been a watering point for aboriginals and native animals years ago.  I have often wondered what happened to the spring now that it is in the backyard of one of the houses.

Since, though I have noticed that these houses have been demolished and Finucane Cres. terminated midway between Lawson and Menin Road to allow an extention to the play area for the school.  The spring now lies at the far end of one of those blocks immediately behind the house fences in Flinders Street.

In 1959 that the students did their vocational exams to see what high school they would be placed at.

We had two options.  The so-called 'smart kids' to the selective school at Sydney High and most of the others to a local high school which later turned out to be Matraville High.  Some living on the northern side of Poziers Ave went to Sth Sydney Boys High whilst the girls from that point went to Maroubra Junction Home Science School.

I used to prey that I would go to Sydney High.  We all sat for the exam in the third term.  Strangely the people who carried out the examination came back to the school some weeks later and re-examined me in isolation.  I have no idea why.  I did not cheat in the first one or maybe it was that I was on the cusp of Sydney High School selection and my results needed to be confirmed.  I will never know.

The big play was in my final year at the school after we moved into the new brick building.  We had a new teacher too.  A Mr Bruce Phillips who was transferred from Rainbow Street Public School at Randwick.  At 35 he was a dark haired lean man who had served in the air force during the second world war.

He was a fairly strict teacher and I often got into trouble for small misdemeanours which resulted me getting the cane a number of times.  Once, I was in the storeroom located off the front of the classroom fooling around with the other students and I drew some red chalk marks across my fingers then feigning to my mates that I had been caned.  They said nothing and were strangely quiet only to find Mr Phillips standing behind me listening to everything.

“Well” he said.  “We may as well make it the real thing for you then” and proceeded to give me six wacks with the can across my fingers – ‘for good measure’.

As did all sixth classes in Sydney primary schools at the time we visited the Coca Cola Factory which was then situated in Ricketty Street, Alexandria.  This trip was looked upon with much enthusiasm, in fact I knew years before that we would be going and couldn't wait.  We bused there, shown around the factory, given a bottle of Coke to drink then bused back with the result that we were forever after a disciple of Coca Cola.

Most times when the class I was in would put on a play, I was always selected for the lead roll which I thought was a buzz but long afterwards the other boys in my year told me they were so relieved it was me and not them and additionally, like the triangle thing, I think the teacher used these situations to ‘put me in my place’.

In sixth class during the latter part of 1960 we put on a play where the front landing leading to our classroom, which incidentally and because it was on the upside of the hill, had a commanding view (if you call it a view) of the entire school.  The landing was used as the stage.  I think it had overhead covering but unfortunately the audience who sat in the playground, they didn’t.. 

My mother was quite older than the rest of the mothers in my class.  In 1960 she was 49 and I used to get embarrassed at having an ‘old’ mother so decided not to tell her that I was in the play nor the date it was to be performed.

The play began in bright sunshine with an audience mostly of 100 or so mothers, staff and kids and me playing the part as the mayor, president, king or something or other.  As I spoke my lines, I watched to see my mother come through the gate off Menin Road, walk up the playground, wave and secure a seat for herself in the audience – how embarrassing!

One of the crawler’s jobs at the school then was to sound or ring the bell.  The new innovation at our school at the time was in the form of a horn.  It was mounted on the eaves of the new brick classrooms with the button directly outside the staff room.  I got the job but didn’t take long to lose it when I sounded it a couple of more times then was necessary.

Well later in that, my final year at the school, the high school destinations were released and yes, I had made it to Sydney High School along with one third of my class (boys and girls) but a lot of good it did me as my move into a less disciplined environment together with my already advanced state of puberty and attitude problems put my family and myself through pretty much a hell of a time over the next 12 months, to the extent where at the end of that first year I was subsequently transferred to Matraville High School, where I belonged.

A classmate, Colin Cass from Little Bay went to Sydney Grammar.

If I had to make a comment about my life in primary school I would say it was very disciplined.  A teacher was nearly always on had watching and telling us what and how to do things not like life was to become in high school.  I enjoyed my primary school years, they were full of fun and, for the most part, excitement.

I don’t remember the last day there but it passed as did I and everyone else moved into the next phase of their lives.

Despite protests from residents, Mr Maddison, the Minister for Justice under the Askin government, passed legislation to allow redevelopment of the unique village of the Soldiers Settlement at Matraville. In 1977, the very year that a reunion of past and present residents was organized, demolition began.

My father needed timber for rails in the new fence he was constructing around our house and we went to where they were dismantling the houses and purchased some faultless oregan timber.

Only one house in the complex remains as a testament to the work, effort and commitment of the volunteers all those years ago and the sacrifice made by the soldiers in WWl.