37 The Canteen

‘Noo dot any Nehoo War tards?’

First year David Gardner, a small boy known to all, was a fan of American Civil War cards it seemed. Understanding him wasn’t too difficult but we had to listen carefully.

 School dinners at Twydall were done in two sittings. One day, when David had been on the first sitting, he emerged from the canteen as the second sitting kids were gathering outside.

‘Hoi! David! What we got for dinner?’

‘Noo dot stew.’      

‘What we got for afters?’

‘Noo dot mons.’

 It took some thinking about but I got there in the end. ‘Noo dot mons was David’s way of saying ‘You’ve got blancmange.’

A Nissen hut, situated in a corner at the bottom of the playground, served as the school canteen and Mister Campion’s classroom. Whether our school din-dins really did come from pig bins – as the parody lyric of Out of Town suggested – I couldn’t say, but a vehicle and trailer, laden with large cylindrical containers, crossed the playground every morning and came back each afternoon. 

Graham Wilson: “School dinners used to be delivered in metal canisters on a trailer. I can still remember the buzz of excitement when we heard we were having Gypsy Tart for afters.”

Who sat where changed day to day, under the direction of the duty teacher. Though I wasn’t too keen on pilchards I loved school meals. Some though, did not, such as the tearful girl who wouldn’t eat her mashed potato one day. Challenged by the duty teacher she sobbed ‘I can’t eat it, it’s got lumps in it.’

A feature of the canteen was the goldfish tank. Positioned halfway down the canteen, it rested high on a wooden structure in the full glare of a sunny window. Full of plants and algae, only those seated near it caught the occasional glimpse of a goldfish in the green slime.

Dinnertime was uneventful most days but once in a while something memorable happened. Step forward William ‘Bimbo’ Hollands. As usual when the whistle blew for second dinners, we rushed from all over the playground to assemble outside the canteen. And, as usual, there was a lot of chattering.

‘Quiet!’ said Mister Campion, duty teacher for the day. ‘There will be no talking as you enter the canteen. You will enter in single file, in a quiet and orderly manner.’

Stern warning issued, Mister Campion went inside. Unbeknown to us, he had placed himself behind the door in the cloakroom area, handily placed to tap the odd chatterbox on the shoulder as they came in, and pull them aside.

Thus, once the well behaved majority were seated quietly, Mister Campion marched Bimbo Hollands and others down to his desk, where he produced a slipper. One by one they were ordered to bend over and one by one, they took their punishment and walked solemnly away. All very dignified, but there was none of that stiff upper lipped stuff from Bim, who returned to his seat with a bouncy stride and an agonised face, rubbing the cheeks of his bum all the way.