A strict upbringing

As a child during the 1930s I lived in an orphanage. The discipline there was quite strict, with liberal use of the cane. During the day I attended a nearby school, where corporal punishment was also in regular use. I didn't much like the school and it always seemed to me that we orphanage boys received more than our fair share of thrashings from the teachers.

Whilst canings back at the orphanage were given across the boy's backside, at school the culprit's hand was the target. In my opinion, the cane can hurt more on the hand, and the pain usually lingers for longer. I can recall a very strict arithmetic teacher who used to wander about the classroom, cane at the ready. A boy who got a sum wrong invariably had to hold out his hand for a cut of the cane, so you can imagine the atmosphere of fear in those particular lessons.

However, it was the headmaster who was the real demon with the stick. On one occasion I was caught flicking an ink pellet and suffered four really hard cuts on each hand with a swishy rattan cane which left my palms and fingers bruised and blistered. I had great difficulty holding a pen for the remainder of that day.

I would often creep back to the orphanage after a miserable day at school, my hands sore from the cane, only to be confronted with some fault by the authorities there and have to bend over for yet more cane, this time across my backside.

At the age of 14 I was sent to an army college which prepared boys for military service. This place was very strict indeed and we lived in fear of the House Corporals - senior boys who had the power to place you on report to the sergeant major. That man was a real disciplinarian who laid on the cane with a will. Those were certainly the worst beatings I ever suffered, and you should have seen the cuts and bruises on our backsides!

Later on, after the war, I worked temporarily as a supply teacher. The headmaster was an old dodderer and used to leave the administration of corporal punishment to the games master. One afternoon the games master was away and I was deputed to take his class. Not unexpectedly the boys 'tried it on' and their misbehaviour came to the notice of the headmaster who ordered whackings all round.

So after all those childhood years of being on the receiving end of the cane, I was now the giver. Nineteen youngsters, still dressed in games kit, lined up before me and each boy had to bend over and suffer four of the best. I'm sure the cane stung like hell across their tightly stretched cotton shorts, since I did not spare the rod. There was certainly a lot of moaning and groaning and rubbing of sore backsides and my right arm was soon aching from the exertion.

I left teaching soon afterwards, so that was my last encounter with officially sanctioned corporal punishment.