The Whack

Getting 'The Whack' was the term used during the 1950s at my suburban London grammar school for a personal appointment with the headmaster, who then proceeded to beat the dust out of your grey flannels with a big springy cane - not a pleasant experience. The process whereby a boy ended up submitting to The Whack began with being caught by a master or prefect misbehaving or breaking one of the school rules. A 'stripe' was recorded against your name in the book kept for that purpose and if you accumulated three of these in the space of a term you were for it.

At morning assembly the prefect deputee to the task that day would read the various announcements and notices. Right at the end came the moment you were dreading, as your name was intoned along with the command 'headmaster's study directly after assembly.' There would be the inevitable sniggers and smiles and a few sympathetic glances. The condemned boy would attempt to look unafraid, determined to scotch the impression that such an appointment with the headmaster bothered him in any way.

If you were expecting the summons you could prepare yourself in several ways. Two pairs of decent gym shorts under your school trousers helped to lessen the sting, although the very best protection was a pair of khaki serge cadet corps trousers. Fortunate was the boy who was wearing his cadet uniform when he was summoned for The Whack. But whatever you wore, you knew that it was going to hurt!

You would look sheepish and suitably impressed as the headmaster lectured you sternly about your offences, acting as judge, jury and executioner with no right of appeal. 'Bend over that chair and raise the back of your jacket'. It was a wooden armchair with a flowery pattern woven into the beige material - I saw enough of it during my school career to remember it well.

One you were bent over to his satisfaction, the headmaster would amble over to the umbrella stand and select a cane for the task in hand. He would swish it a couple of times and walk back to the chair, eyeing the seat of your flannels in a professional manner. Out of the corner of your eye you would see him pull back his gown with his left hand and take up the stance. Seconds later your poor backside felt like someone had taken a branding iron to it. He left about five seconds between whacks, just long for the pain to really build up.

Three or sometimes four strokes was the usual ration, and believe me it was quite enough. However, occasionally six of the best was given for serious offences. I can recall the case of a boy who brought to school a magazine of .303 cartridges which he had 'found' during a cadet field day. He fired one off during the lunchbreak with the aid of a nail and half a brick - the noise attracted the attention of half the school! He didn't have the chance to 'pad up' so that six of the best must have been extra painful.