Everyone who ever had Merv Comrie as a teacher at Headlands has a story to tell. Merv left an indelible impression on all those he taught.
My own favorite moment came as he was taking class 4M through Macbeth explaining everything line by line – that time-honored English teacher way of ensuring students will not get any pleasure from Shakespeare. We are about to get to the witches brew in Act IV.
Finger of birth-strangled babe
Ditch-deliver’d by a drab,
Make the gruel thick and slab.
We all liked Mr. Comrie because he was a mostly benign and eccentric presence who did not rant or fall about in rages. But we also knew he would be exquisitely embarrassed having to explain the word drab.
We had already read the footnote in the blue covered New Clarendon edition and we knew it meant what they described as a “loose woman” or some such. As as he got to the line and his explanation the class went into a frozen deadly silence. If we hadn’t liked him we might have asked – in all innocence of course – “Sir, what is a loose woman?” But we didn’t and the class moved on.
Here are a few comments I’ve collected on line – mostly Facebook – and from my brother. I hope people don’t mind that I’ve added their names to the anecdote they have told online. If anyone does – just let me know.
John Trueman – who was at Headlands 1959-1964 – has written an amusing and somewhat poignant account of his time there. We were in the same class for close to five years and his book has been a great memory jog. You can read a Merv extract in the sidebar, right. His book is available here.
Maureen Iles tells a classic Merv story here.
“Please sir, can I fill my pen?” He would retort in his drawling voice, “I don’t know, CAN you? Don’t you mean, ‘MAY I fill my pen?” We then had to say, “Please sir, MAY I fill my pen?” and he always said, “Of course, you may!”
Other Comments
Here’s a sampling. More at the end of the post.
Merv was a legend – Robin Earle
An AMAZING man!! – Maggie Humphries
I remember doing my English GCSE Oral Exam In front of him. I recall a plastic hippo on his desk the first words to me were, ‘Don’t touch BOY it bites’.-Kevin Brigginshaw
Merv was my History teacher. Wonderful guy. He used to tell us they should have dropped the atomic bomb on Germany & not Japan. I think he must have had wartime issues with Germany. -Paul Wright
One of the best teachers I ever had at school. Always put facts across in a very succinct way which made them easy to remember – Andy Keene
Remember Merv Comrie? Whilst never in his class, he had a talent in communication. I once came up the stairs (near his office) whistling. Instead of telling me to stop whistling, he made his point by calling out, “Wilkinson, going to be a budgerigar when you grow up!!” – Robin Wilkinson
Merv was great, that voice – BOYYY! Smoked like a chimney and if anyone yawned in class he would make them stand up and do exercises! – Shirley Lewis
Merv was just great!! – Tad Newton
I do believe Merv was born with a 5 o’clock shadow. – Robin Earle
The Diet of Worms – Tad Newton
In my teaching “career” of 43 years I often used some of Merv’s sayings..usually to the total bemusement of my charges…which of course made it doubly amusing for me. – Tad Newton
“Do you follow?” – Mike Collier
On my day he was the Careers Master but seemed to have little knowledge or interest in the world of horny handed toil .., strangely lived in an Old Town hotel where he could be found in the bar most nights.. we never really had a meeting of minds …although his at the time was somewhat more experienced and accomplished. – John Stooke
Mr. Comrie once sent me to his room for something and told me to watch out for the hippopotamus. My maiden name was Flake which he found very amusing. Rachel Parmenter
I remember in 6th form of autumn 1969 in the break area wearing a trendy green sleeveless waist coat (which I’d bought from Harry Fentons on the Parade) under my blazer which he of course spotted & again had to have a chat with Mr Magson. Happy Days. – Stephen Baines
I remember Merv! I was in the 6th form and he caught me inside the building during lunch, when I wasn’t supposed to be there. I tried to make up some old toot of a reason, but one look at his face, I changed mid sentence “Ok I’m making it up and not supposed to be in here” He let me off for seeing the error of my ways. Good old bloke.- Ken Davey
He used to send me and my friend over to the newsagents for a packet of Senior Service cigarettes. They cost 3/11d and he would give us the penny change “for jelly babies”. Great man!! – Ros Hinder
Let Me Buy You a Drink
In addition to the paperweight hippo in his office (Be careful, it hasn’t been fed today!) Merv also had a small jar of mud collected at Twickenham – possibly from an annual Oxford – Cambridge rugby match.
I don’t have a clear memory of what Merv looked like and I don’t have a photograph. If anyone has one I would love to add it to the post.
I do remember he had what would have been early gray hair, a faint mustardy complexion, a very distinctive voice, and seemed a little deaf. (Speak up, girl!).
Among the many rumors about him were that Miss Murray had set her cap at him and that he had served in Burma during the war and suffered periodic bouts of malaria. All speculation. The complexion, however, could have been the result of living in a perpetual cloud of nicotine: Merv was most definitely a chain smoker.
Some of the girls in 4m that year even made up a ditty about him – sung to the tune of Mark Wynter’s 1962 cover hit of Venus in Blue Jeans.
It went something like this:
He’s Mervyn with gray hair
Mister Comrie with a gravelly voice
He’s the man who stole our heart.
Our Mervyn with gray hair
Is the only man that we adore
He’s our very special angel too
A fairy tale come true.
They say there’s seven wonders in the world
But what they say is out of date
There’s no more seven wonders in the world
We just met number eight.
India and Harrow
In 1934 he entered Harrow School where he was in Druries house. Notable Old Drurieans include the poet Lord Byron, former British Prime Ministers Robert Peel and Lord Palmerston and the disgraced Tory minister John Profumo who resigned from the government in the middle of one of the better British sex scandals. Merv was fourteen and a long way from home.
There’s a famous photograph of Harrow boys outside Lord’s cricket ground before the annual Eton Harrow match that is often used to show the British class divide.
1937 photograph of five boys: two dressed in the Harrow School uniform including waistcoat, top hat, boutonnière, and cane. By Jimmy Sime, 9 July 1937 outside the Grace Gates at Lord’s Cricket Ground , London . The Harrow boys are there for the annual Eton vs Harrow cricket match. Most likely Merv attended that match, dressed accordingly.
Merv would also have worn the Harrow varnished straw boater hat. This is the Type 1a version (1830-1948). While he was at school he had his photograph taken by Hill and Saunders of Harrow and the negatives remain in their archive. Too bad they are not available online.
The Harrow School register provides some useful biographical information:
Grindlays was an overseas bank that served as agents and bankers to the British army, Civil Service and business community in India.
Merv became a prefect – monitor in Harrow-speak – in his last year and left in 1939, perfect timing to have his further education disrupted by the outbreak of war.
The Grange – 11, Cromer Road, Aylsham – a Georgian house built in the early C19th and is now a ggrade II listed building. The adjoining 4,500-acre Blickling estate was used by the RAF during the war is now run by the National Trust.
Cambridge and the Army
In September an announcement said that Cambridge students could volunteer in Cambridge – presumably this would make it easier to keep records. So I went up at the appointed time, had a medical in the old Index Room of the Library (now the Senior Combination Room of the University) and asked to make an affirmation, rather than swear on the Bible. That would be a nuisance, said the Officers Training Corps man on duty. He would have to send for a notary – wouldn’t I spare him the trouble and do like everybody else? The Bible was open, he assured me, at the dirtiest place in the whole book. Even that schoolboy snigger didn’t put me off, and I conformed again. There was an interview then, at which I said I was useless with machines, and it was agreed that in that case I wouldn’t do for the artillery. Inevitably it was to the artillery I was posted, a year later. Meanwhile I had one more year at the university, in the Army but not of it.- Ron Gray autobiography P.31
The Harrow Register names his regiment as the 7th Field regiment, Royal Artillery.
That regiment had been part of the B.E.F in France at the start of the war, was evacuated via Dunkirk and later took part in D-Day and operations in France and Germany.
The Royal Artillery was the largest single element in the British armed forces in WW2 with over a million men at its peak and over 900 regiments.
Here’s The Royal Artillery Prayer:
O Lord Jesus Christ,
Who dost everywhere lead thy people in the way of righteousness,
Vouchsafe so as to lead the Royal Regiment of Artillery,
That wherever we serve, on land or sea or in the air,
We may win the glory of doing thy will.
Amen
Merv, it seems, served in India from 1941 on where he may well have been in Burma. Since 1833 the single battle honor of the Royal Regiment of Artillery has been “Ubique” – everywhere. In WW2 gunners served in all army campaigns in Europe, Asia and Africa as well as under Admiralty command aboard ships plying the convoy routes and under RAF command in home defence. To get his actual army record would either mean a trip to National Archives at Kew or to pay the fee at the Ministry of Defence. His service as a gunner may well have been the reason for hearing loss.
In 1945 he was promoted to Captain Comrie and when the war ended he returned to Cambridge where he graduated in 1948. I think it is highly likely that he played rugby – that game for ruffians played by gentlemen – for his college but I have no confirmation of that. At Headlands he earned the nickname “Merv the swerve” by playing in the Teachers v. School XV.
In 1953 he became the M.A.Cantab that we all saw after is name on Speech Day programs. At Oxford, Cambridge and Dublin those who graduate with honors can apply for the Master of Arts title on application after a number of years. It’s an academic rank, not an earned qualification.
On a voyage home from India in 1949 he listed his occupation as student and an address in Winchester that was the location of King Alfred’s College, a men’s teacher training college now part of Winchester University. It is possible that he went from there to his position at Headlands.
When he died in June 1980 he was living at 32, Audley Grove, Bath, Somerset. He was sixty years old.
More Memories and Accolades
Wonderful eccentric teacher. Had a great relationship with Merv. – Paul Wright
Merv…Comrie. Could draw beautiful commas with chalk- and pronounce Iron very clearly. Pamela King
Does anyone remember ‘Camel Permits, he would give us if we wanted to get some water during a double period of history?– Julia Jones
Please fasten your buttons Megan – Chris Holford
The School Song
One final detail: The long serving music teacher at Headlands was Norman Gilbert – an accomplished organist and composer. (He has some beautiful church organ pieces that can be heard online.) Mervyn Comrie is credited with the words on several of his songs.
They collaborated on the school song Floreat Semper Schola which was sung at ceremonial occasions. Most of us were pretty cynical about such things in the 1960s but I can still remember the first verse!
Home of our youth, our future’s mould
Our guide when young, our love when old.
Give us the strength to face the fight
To shun the wrong, uphold the right.
Floreat Semper Schola.
I wrote this because teachers like Merv deserve a better memorial than a few random comments on Facebook. The thing about education is that you can’t know the outcome until decades later. I am confident that Mervyn Comrie had a positive impact on hundreds of students.
In honesty, I don’t know how much I learned from him, but being in his class meant not being afraid; trying to do my best; and being entertained by his harmless quirks and idiosyncrasies. Thanks for that Merv.
Any more memories of Merv? Please add them.
Dear Josie,
I thoroughly enjoyed your blog on Merv Comrie. In brief, I have recently been accepted as the heir apparent to the custodianship of the Comrie One-Name Study by the Guild of One-Name Studies. Professor Tony Wren (a Comrie on his mother’s side) started the Comrie One-Name study a few years ago but wants to hand it over to a successor. For better or for worse I am that successor! Tony is 85 and I am 79. I have a very large amount of Comrie information and Tony has even more on his website.
I was born in Falkirk, Scotland, and my mother was a Comrie. All Comries are presumed to originate in the village of Comrie and to be descended from the Celtic earls of Strathearn. The earliest record of the surname is from 1297 when Patrick de Strathearn, the third son of Malise, the 6th Celtic Earl of Strathearn, was given a charter for the lands of Comrie from his father, and was therefore entitled to the style Patrick de Comrie. His son was Thomas de Comrie, 2nd of that Ilk, meaning 2nd of that line. Their heirs for over 300 years were known as Comrie of that Ilk, having dropped the “de” around 1500. The 8th Celtic Earl of Strathearn was forfeited in or around 1333 after the Battle of Halidon Hill.
I have Mervyn Comrie on one of my 60-odd Comrie family trees but I knew nothing about him, which is why I so value your blog. Thank you very much!
I have written two and a half pages on Merv in a master document I am compiling to hold my Comrie records. I would like to send it to you for your comment and approval. Would you be willing to send me your e-mail address”.
If you Google John Comrie-Greig you will see that I am a genuine (decent) old codger!
Thank you again for keeping Merv’s life alive.
Kind regards,
John
John Comrie-Greig
4 Bursaria Crescent
Ferndale WA 6148
Perth
Western Australia
Tel.: (08) 9258 5074
Mobile (my wife’s): 0410 489 950
Thanks John. I have responded via email.
Your relative Merv was well-respected at Headlands as you can see from all the comments. My brother and I both recall him fondly as a benign presence who cultivated eccentricity – perhaps as his way of coping with the banality of life! Class with Merv was at the very least a relief from boredom and gradgrindery.
Merv
s unusual sense of humour seemed to endear him to the boys more than the girls. One example was an April Fools Day when he entered the classroom and was greeted by a pile of chairs [ originally left in the room for collection and repair ] which had been transferred onto the teachers table by pranksters. ” Oh, whos done that " ? he exclaimed and a class wag called out " Bond, sir " ! Merv. surely realised that poor Bond was the MOST unlikely culprit but sternly ordered the latter [ protesting profusely ] to clear the chairs immediately and stack them in the corner ! The history lesson then commenced in the usual way despite lingering signs of amusement on Mervs face !Thank you Josie for your brilliant research on Merv. He taught you and me English in 3M, which is the class photo in your piece. He got me through English Language O level 2 years later because he taught us Clause Analysis. It was no use to anyone, but it was the only bit of English where you could score 100%, and I did regularly. In 4 & 5B English was taught by Dave Flower who was very disparaging of my newfound skill.
I agree with all the comments on his sense of humour and pedantry. He wondered if boys who slouched at their desks had been filleted. He started all lessons by removing his wrist watch and propping it on the desk before him, using the bracelet.
I thought he lived at the Goddards and spent his evenings in the Bell, when it was a traditional pub.
The top corridor was regularly filled (fouled?) by his pipe smoke.
Thanks Bob. Never could get the hang of clause analysis. So it went the way of Art, Music, Algebra, Geometry, Physics, and Chemistry – on the growing list of things that school taught me I could not do. (French was close behind.)
Lucky for me, I figured out that there was an option on the English Paper – Clause analysis or Vocabulary. I was a pretty avid reader so I took a chance on being able to do the vocab and so ditched trying to understand clause analysis. And then I became an English teacher.
Do you remember maths with poor tormented Mr. Rackham? As I had already decided I did not need – nor could I ever pass – Math I had nothing better to do in class than disrupt. I sat over in the corner by the window and served as the counterbalance to Trueman, Wirdnam, Clewlow et al on the other side. Must have really pissed off those who wanted to learn and do the work. Whenever confronted with unruly classes in my career I always thought: Karma and thought of Rackham.
But Merv was a character. He certainly cultivated that eccentricity. And he loved to pronounce those Rs.
So good to hear from you.
Wow Josie! Mr Rackham!
I’d forgotten all about him! Him and his hedge-hog hair! He had a habit of pushing his hand back over his head when exasperated and the hair would spring back to its vertical position. More mirth from the class and more exasperation on his part!
He just wanted to be liked! This was unique in my memories of Headlands’ teachers, but of course disastrous for his class control. Being a softy, I used to squirm with discomfort at his treatment by the class. You Bash Street Kids didn’t give him a chance.
We are clear evidence of the fault with streaming, working on the assumption that intelligence could be measured, and then applied in equal measured across the subjects. For my part, I was born with almost no ability to remember the names of things, and facts and figures. I floundered with French and struggled with History, Geography, English (spelling was beyond me unless it was logical) and the bits of other subjects requiring rote learning. On the other hand, Maths and Physics were as plain as the hand in front of me and I only lost marks because I got bored waiting for you lot to catch up. I ended up teaching Economics because most of that was logical deduction using the application of models. How did I end up doing History and Geography “A” levels? I recall no advice on choice of subjects and I’m not sure I would have been allowed Physics because we were allocated Physics with Chemistry at “O” level. A combination of Physics, Maths and Economics would have set me up, but that was not possible because there was no crossing of Science and Humanities.
This brain love Clause Analysis because that was simple categorisation, whereas the real subject of English requires sensitivity and memory. Clause Analysis was painting by numbers.
Thanks, Josie for your provocation. You’ve stirred memories, fond and frustrated, of the institution and people from 60 years ago.
Josie,
PS.
Now daylight in UK & I refer to the Jimmy Sime photo of the “Toffs & Toughs” above which I idly alighted on in the wee small hours.
The Eton & Harrow cricket match will no longer be played at Lord’s, & Mike Atherton ( English cricketer) wrote an interesting article about that photo of Sime’s in The Times a month or two ago.
It’s worth a read & I atttach an extract:
“In fact, as Ian Jack, the former editor of Granta, discovered when he came to investigate and write the story for the magazine Intelligent Life in 2010, building on the earlier work of Geoffrey Levy in the Daily Mail, not everything was as neatly packaged as we were encouraged to imagine. The life of gilded privilege did not work out like that for the toffs. One of them, who did not come from wealth, was dead a little over a year later from diphtheria. The other was invalided out of the army after a mental breakdown and ended his days in what was described as a “custom-built asylum” in East Sussex.
The toughs, wrote Jack, were not street urchins, but sons of fathers who had steady, respectable jobs — an asphalter, factory foreman and a post office clerk. They had bunked off school that day having gone to the dentist. Two left education early but all three lived long, healthy and, in a rounded sense, rich lives. Two had marriages that lasted more than 50 years; one had a successful career in the civil service”.
Best.
Ray.
Great stuff Ray. Thanks. The back stories are always fascinating. It’s clear from the photo that the toughs were “respectable’ and far from street urchins. And look what happened to that privileged “toff” Merv – a lifetime of living in one room in a pub in Swindon and teaching generations of oiks.
Josie,
Thanks.
How we would have behaved differently with a better insight & understanding – but surely that is/those are part(s) of the folly of youth?
MWMC on reflection presents a sad image in the way you have put it. Immaculately turned out, heavy smoker, wry sense of humour, somewhat ill at ease with girls ( ? perceptible in my experience on only one occasion -good story involving Susan Newport). A lonely figure marooned in a pub.. Only Bill Still & Arkells for company at The Bell….
Or someone who made a favourable impression on many & may have derived some satisfaction from it, the domestically un-encumbered life at an old hotel ( I believe he lived at the Goddard Arms), endless school holidays for touring Greece, the Cyclades, Italy etc.
Could chat for hours….anyway, I am not tech savvy & received a reply from David Kavanagh offering to upload all my treasured “Headlandian” magazines ( you will have gathered that my unhappy days at school were greatly eclipsed by the good ones), but my reply is lost somewhere on one of your platforms. Do you have his details by any chance because although providing his actual postal address, & having passed his eleven plus, he omitted both ‘phone number & email address.
Cheers for now.
Ray.
Hi Ray – Yes Merv does seem a bit of sad figure when seen from this distance.
Write to me at jholford@gmail.com and I’ll send you David’s email.
I think I have a complete set of Headlandians from 1961 on. I can certainly send you the Pdfs of what I have.
Had Merv for History in 4th year. Impeccable in his attire, I recall he always seemed to wear a three-piece tweed suit and carnation. Good bloke, for the boys, bit cruel IMO to the girls. To this day some 57 years later I still remember the name of the French Admiral at Trafalgar:
“If I were to ask you the name of the French Admiral at Trafalgar, all you’d need do is look out of the window!” Thirty or so pairs of eyes turned leftward, we could see tennis courts, playing fields, poplar trees, houses, factory chimneys, hills, clouds, sky. Not a clue.
“Simple, you look out of the widow and you see…?”
Blank class.
“You look out of the window and you see… DeGrasse!”
That’s a classic Merv story.
And yes, I think girls were a bit of a puzzle for Merv and he could be quite sarcastic and cutting. But my memory is that at least he was occasionally entertaining. And he certainly chose to be eccentric.
Right Admiral, wrong battle. Merv would be very disappointed. Villeneuve was Trafalgar, De Grasse was the Battle of the Saintes. You were a year below me – I think you played in a group with my friend John Dexter.
Keep safe
So much for that as a teaching method or mnemonic then!
Thanks for the comment, Michael. And cheers!
I have never forgotten “Mr Comrie”. I may not have done very well in my lessons and exams, but I vividly remember the delightful way he corrected students who lapsed into colloquial English. When asked to do something he would invariably emphasise “immediately if not sooner, Boy!” And it was never done in an aggressive way, which helped to make its point and memorably.
The best thing about Merv was that he was benign in his obsessions with grammatical etiquette. And his eccentricities provided rare moments of entertainment in a school where levity was usually at someone else’s expense and basically cruelty disguised as sarcasm.
Merv had a characteristic gravely voice and he always seemed as if he was holding himself back from finding the whole world both both absurd and regrettable. Swindon and Headlands were a long way from India and Harrow.
I went into his office to pick up career pamphlets. One was only a couple of pages titled “The Scientific Civil Service”.
Two jobs there. One was for engineers in air traffic control, and the other was for trainee radio technician at GCHQ Cheltenham.
Long story short; I was one of only six successful candidates and was with GCHQ for 38 years on and off.
Worked in UK, Hong Kong, Cyprus and a couple of middle Eastern places plus a few years in Saudi with Rockwell Int.
That’s a brilliant anecdote. And led to what sounds like a brilliant career! Cheers Les!
I remember Mr Comrie for careers advice. I was thinking of leaving at 16 to join the Police and he suggested I go on and do A levels. I did and saw him again and said I wanted to do Town and Country Planning but he advised me not to specialise too soon . He was right !
I remember the name Les Bramwell fro my time at Headlands 62-68
I loved him – of all the teachers at Infant, Junior & Grammar School, & subsequently college & University, he was outstanding. He had style & class – tho’ I suspect difficulties with girls. V sad to learn of his early death, some decades ago. We (Max Coliier, Terry Coello & Martin Kershaw) for a year or two after we’d left school used to look him out with Bill Still as they quaffed together in The Bell .
Many anecdotes – “Brother” Derek Carr ever after having responded to a question with, ” ..Our dad says..”; he thought major ” was a good rank” & explained the “kismet” fatalism of Indian Army drivers à propos Nelson’s last attributed words. The “treat ” books, etc., etc..
And the kindness of reminding me on the eve of my Sandhurst medical that I should be careful with my cutlery if the day involved any dining! He also recommended the need to have at least one good newspaper at home – I obeyed & we took The Observer along with The Sunday Pic & News of the Screws…..and he was a fan of the Labour MP for Bristol, SW.
Great details Ray. And that’s a pretty good testimonial. I didn’t think he was such a great teacher but he was a benign and amusing character who went out of his way to be eccentric so that made him a stand-out. Girls were all a bit foreign territory or so it seemed. Probably why we went out of way to create him into a figure of mock romance.
He drank at The Bell but can you confirm whether he lived there or at the Goddard Arms?
And what do you hear of Max, Terry, Derek and Martin these days?
Josie-
Re MWM – I only think he lived at the Goddard Arms, but far from sure.
Re our mutual school chums: Max was killed in actin flying in Tornados in the first Gulf Campaign; Terry became seriously ill & died later the same decade; Martin happily resident in Oakland, Cal since ’76, & opted for US citizenship after the Twin Towers outrage.
Noticed from an earlier posting that you & I shared the Latvian dentist. My first was a chap called Tooth, down by the railway station.
Cheers Ray.
Thinking of Mrs Millenbach – I think her first name was Lydia – I bet she had a war years story to tell. And that brings the casual anti-Semitism and general religious bigotry of Holy Joe to mind.
I can see that dark waiting room now.
But that extra appointment card was really useful in getting afternoons off school.
Blimey, there’s a name from the past. Millenbach (and Timrot, as I remember). Milton Road? Always told me I didn’t need an anaesthetic when having a tooth filled. My god, was she wrong.
I declined injections – fear of the needle. She thought I was a “ brafe boy”.
Not “brafe “; stupid!
Don’t you wish you could go back and find out more about her? Not more time in that dark waiting room nor the slow drill but the life.
Yes Josie.
And I rue not having asked questions of many, now long gone, who were “significant” adults in my life, family included.
Perhaps it’s a function of age?
Best,
Ray.
Lost opportunities. Just goes to show how incurious and self-involved the young generally mostly are.
And then – when you would give almost anything to know and learn and find out – it’s too late. they’re gone.
And of one of the girls: ‘Cynthia (not her real name), you can do your buttons up. I know you haven’t done your homework!’
Was it Merv who said of my old mate Jack, ‘Seamour – say less!’
Dunno. But I think it was Holy Joe who used to say with monotonous regularity to Alan Forrest:
“Down in the forest something stirred.
‘Twas only the sound of a little bird.”
He seemed to find it hilarious.
Mr Comrie was a brilliant teacher. I only achieved a handful of ‘O’ levels and my top two grades were achieved in English and History, the two subjects he taught me. He had a unique method of reinforcing facts in History that made it ‘stick’. Great bloke.
So glad to see my comment on Merv posted and together with ‘Nutty’ he was instrumental in my love of history to this day. What great research into his previous life but so sad to learn he had died at the age of 60. Probably smoked too much and spent too much time in the bar of The Bell. He was one of my better memories of life at Headlands.
I second that last comment. At least he was entertaining in his eccentricities even if he never could fathom what all those girls were doing in his class.
And yes, he did die before he had any time to enjoy retirement. I was sad to discover that too.
Merv was entertaining but I wouldn’t call him a good teacher.
The pettifogging obsession with punctuation was ridiculous. He might have been amused to assign the pages of commas and full-stops but I wasn’t. Just wasted my time and didn’t teach me anything valuable. Just a lesson in power – who has it and who doesn’t.
He was a good fair bloke. He was my form teacher 1954/55.
Brilliant, it was great to learn more about Merv’s life and career. I really enjoyed his lessons and his quirky sense of humour.
Absolutely brilliant – you have captured Merv so well and he was undoubtedly well loved by most of his pupils.
Merv was our 5B form master in 1961/62 . I dont think anyone else would have us. But he supported 7 of us when we decided to organise our own holiday in the summer youth hosteling around France.