King Henry VIII Grammar School

Another teacher who seemed to have been there a long time was Ernie Shaw, head of RI/RE. He always played the grand piano in assembly (as did Frank Liddiard on one occasion when Ernie was absent). Word was that Ernie was a proper vicar in (presumably) the village where he lived.

As well as being head of RE, or Scripture as it was known, Ernie Shaw also taught 'A' Level German... I speak from experience!

I was taught English by 'Moggy' Owen for a year or two and he was certainly an erratic character. We soon discovered that he had a short fuse, and by then a few of us had found ways of winding up such teachers without being discovered as the culprits. In fact, it was best not to reveal it to other classmates, as it was in the days when 'Kitty' Fisher had a little web of spies and conducted his own private reprisals if he could. Owen was short-tempered but he was also a bit slow on the uptake and presented an easy target for determined mischief makers. It drove him to distraction when he was the object of pranks. However, one incident that sticks in my mind was quite different. It had been noticed that Owen was wearing trousers with a large, badly sewn patch on the backside. We had an accomplished caricature artist in our midst who created a cartoon of Owen and his patched pants, but Owen spotted the paper and demanded to see it. He stormed to the back, looked at it, placed it back on the lad's desk and walked away without a single word! It was never mentioned again. This lad produced some incredible caricatures of teachers, including Walker, Shore, Kolisch, Skermer, Irwin and many others, all instantly recognisable.

There were several pupils that excelled at caricatures and when they teamed up with the satirists the results were usually very good. Over the years several unofficial school magazines were produced that served to both educate and entertain. Who can ever forget the adventures of Butch Cazalette and the Sundance Pig?

There was another German teacher called Laird (JNL). Good teacher, but was the master of the sarcastic put-down in front of the whole class. He had no favourites and was like it with everyone. His nickname soon became Face-ache. Pete Jones later told us (as 6th formers) that his colleagues called him Snide.

Another bloke with a short fuse was Ron Hough (physics). Again, a very good teacher, but very strict. He once referred to one poor lad, who was very bright but wore NHS spectacles, by "Go on then, tell the class the answer, yes, you, Four eyes!". He would often say bits of sentences, or phrases, in German, no doubt trying to impress us that he spoke German. Of course, he would then have to repeat the English to us. He was also a keen radio amateur.

Do I remember some of Ron Hough's radio am' gear "breaking through" on Beeb's radio/gramophone facility? From memory Beeb wasn't very impressed. Will (Fairy) Light taught me physics, he was a damned decent guy.

Vaguely remember Fairy Light as a new, young, thin, quiet chap who started just before I left. In later years I believe he moved to Woodlands. I also remember Slug Hughes in biology. Some of the lads made us laugh by doing impersonations of him trying without success to fasten the buttons of his jacket (he was rather portly, and his corporation got in the way).

I remember Mr Harding. He did have a tendency to demonstrate various possible trajectories of a board rubber! He also used to put equations on the board and ask who could 'sort them'. If someone went up and did it, he would wipe the board and move on, leaving the rest of us in the dark as to how it was done. I've tried desperately over the years to gain some mathematical fluency, but, sadly, failed. Potatoface (J Johnston) 1963-69

I remember Mr Laird teaching German. I thought he was a good bloke. He once said to me, "Johnston, you speak German with the accent of someone from a lost Swiss valley".

I remember Droob. He was the founder of the Octavian Droobers, a running club. His real name was Ted Norrish. He once enveigled me into doing the '6 Shropshire summits run', a contest organised by a national daily newspaper. We started on the summit of Corndon Hill, on the Welsh border, and had to climb the 6 highest Shropshire peaks, ending at the Clee Hills. It was November and very cold and foggy. He drove me out in his Land Rover, and we slept under a hedge until midnight, when we started the run. I've never been so cold in my life. When we set off, you couldn't see more than 20 feet ahead. We did the run in just over 15 hours. It was so late when we got back that I had to spend the night in his flat. Although very strict, I couldn't fault the man.

Bebop Barnes taught me music, and I have always had a love of classical music since then. He once played a bit of music and asked if we knew the composer. I put my hand up and said "Back" (I grew up in Stoke Aldermoor!). He strode rapidly towards me and said "WHAT, BOY?". So I said, "J.S. Back". He went purple and said, "It's BACH, boy, BACH".

In my day, when asked where you lived, if you said Earlsdon, you got "Ooohh... la di dah! Snobs!". If you said Canley, you got "Cor, that's a rough area, innit." Either way, you were going to get beaten up. So I learned to answer "Stoke Aldermoor. You got a problem with that?" School was rough in those days. Piggy Shore had a crackdown, and every morning the prefects stopped you in the morning and searched you for weapons. If you didn't have any, they'd give you a flick-knife or similar.

Hello, some friends of the family want their daughter to sit the entrance exam next year and asked me about the school as I'm the only person they know who went there. The problem is, I hated the place. Is it any better these days? I haven't set foot there since I left and I don't live in Coventry any more. For the record, I sat the entrance exam aged 11 in January 1979 (having trudged through three feet of snow to get there). My form master for the first two years was the infamous John Skermer, whom my mother loathed on first meeting. Half the teachers were older than my grandparents and were still living in the 1950s and indeed the whole place seemed stuck in a time warp with its ancient old combined desks and seats. I came across this form when searching for info about the place, to see if it was still the place of misery I remember. P.S. I lived in Styvechale and walked to school each day - uphill both ways! (and before the spelling police get onto me, I've always spelt Styvechale that way and I'm not going to change now)

Hi, School Bully, welcome to the forum. I have posted many anecdotes from my days at KHVIII, most of them involving the dreadful regime that existed there in the late 60s in particular. But a year or two back I was invited to an open day which included provision for old boys to have a look round the old place. I hadn't set foot in there for 40 years and I think it is fair to say that quite a lot has changed in that time. Some of the classrooms still exist but are unrecognisable from those austere days. The ghosts of Shore, Kolisch, Crocker, Skermer etc are distant memories. Try and arrange a look round if you can, it will bring back memories and also put your mind at rest.