|
Victoria School, the many' and varied sports; the rambl'esi, legitimate and otherwise;, to Sheriffmuir; secret bird-nesting expeditions; the many forays to the turnip field; and all the comradeship that is the backbone of successful boarding
school life. These memories are always mine, and I know that future Old Boys will remember likewise.
Here I must pay tribute to the memory of that unforgettable character, O.S.M. McCubbin;
guide, philosopher and' father to us all, surely an evergreen name on the honour roll of the school staff.
In my days at school the emphasis was definitely on training for the Forces; which, though good in its way, had its shortcomings; namely that the boys' talents were never fully developed.
Today the' School has reached far toward the perfect goal, the full development of the boys' natural academic, artistic, and commercial abilities. Through the A.G.M.'s of the Old Boys' Aasosiation I know that the present determination and ability of the teaching staff will make the Q.V.S. the first school of its kind in Scotland.
In sport, I am sorry to see the departure of soccer for the older boys. Since it Is Scotland's national game, there is plenty of opportunity in life for a boy with football talent if he is properly looked after.
One thing has not changed. The true meaning of sportsmanship', one of life's greatest assets, is being fully demonstrated to all the boys by continuous example.
Q.V.S. for the future? The direction is right, your steps are firm. GO ON!
G. MUNRO,
Chairman,
Edinburgh Branch,
Old Boys' Association.
Edinburgh Branch
In the pre-war days Edinburgh' Old Boys had their own club room in the South Bridge, where the Q.V.S. and Club spirit was thoroughly enjoyed by all. A football team was in operation, winning the league and local cup.
Yearly camps were arranged at Barluish Farm, the then young Old Boys enjoying their holidays in the bracing Perthshire air.
Old Boys' Day pre-war was a week-end holiday. Arriving at the School on the Saturday and bunking down in the gym, where fast and thick would fly the tales of schooldays; the stories gradually developing each year till they finally became legend. Happy days for the Old Boys from near and far!
The war forced the Club to disband. After hostilities had ceased John Robertson reorganised the Club, which was held in the Camerons' Club. Somehow something was missing and despite all the hard work of the committee attendances gradually fell off until again the Club disbanded.
The Edinburgh Branch still lives on with our much looked forward to annual Old Boys' day and Grand Day, and as long as we have Old Boys like Jock Malloy, who has never missed an Old Boys' day, war excepted, since 1932, and.
|
Jock Edmonds, one of the First Hundred, an
Old Boy regular, Edinburgh Branch will surely rise again.
G. MUNRO.
Forty Years On
"Jimmy as this is Jubilee Year I wonder if you'd like to write an article as an Old Boy for the "Victorian?" "Yes, Eimrys, I'd be very pleased to."
I must get down to it and write that article. I'm afraid I shall be busy for the next week or so but I should manage it before the articles go to press. But what stiaU I write about? I don't know if the present generation will be interested in what I can say of the School and indeed it can only be o'f interest to a limited number of Old Boys — those of my own years. But I can say something, I mean there was the routine of my day, then there were some outstanding boys and, of course, some outstanding members of the staff.
Yes, these are some of the things I'll write about. I'll make a start this evening when I'm quiet at home.
"What are you doing Jim?" "Oh, Em'rys Hughes asked if I'd write something for the School Mag. this year." "Oh! I see."
Now where shall I begin? 1917 is a long way back. "You won't forget you were .going to fix that shelf Jim." "What? Oh! yes — that shelf. Well I'll leave that for a day or so so that I can get on with this writing." "If it's left there won't be any shelf!"
"Do you know where that screw driver is? I can't see why things aren't put back where they belong."
Now, where was I? Oh yes, 1917 is a long way back. Reveille was at 6.30 a.m. and we were on parade at 7 a.m. summer and winter. In winter it was still dark and it wasn't much fun standing to attention on the parade ground, especially when an easterly gale was whipping down from the snow capped Ochils, but we did enjoy our porridge at 7.45 a.m.. Then at 8.20 we all went bo "Trades" — pipes, drums, military band, tailors and shoemakers. Then to the Central Hall for assembly and prayers then classes. We fitted in a game of soccer or rugger before afternoon classes. In the summer there were no classes on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons and cricket and athletics held sway. I recall with nostalgia "You aren't listening Jim." "What's that? Sorry, I didn't hear." "You did say you would see to the towel rail in the bathroom." . . . with nostalgia . . . towel rail . . . R.E. job that, I recall , . . towel rail. I must make a note of what I can recall. Evening prayers led by the Senior Monitor, the evening hymn "Now the day is over."
I must recall some chaps. Who could I write
about? Let me see. Archie Bums, Jummy Craig, Jape Jamieson, Oinque Metoaife, Frank Pyott, Bill Goldie, Pipe Skelton, and what about the staff? Old "Toorie" Gunn the Colonel, "Tadpole" Reid, the Head, Paget, Dickinson, Atkinson, Dowling the master, and those unforgettable ones—Pop Currie, Billy Ough! Cully Price, and
|
