My
Dad was a school master [his choice of job description], a man of letters, a
lover of books and language. He headed up the PE department in an inner London
school and he had a life-long passion for fitness, and games. Even in his old
age he loved to play scrabble, or even snap. This week I had the privilege of
celebrating his life by presenting the Joe Wilson memorial cup to the sportsman of the
year at Ernest Bevin College – the school where he taught in the ’60s, ’70’s and
early ’80s. This was at the school’s first dedicated sports awards evening and
it was full of accounts of competition successes, but in line with Dad’s philosophy,
the PE teachers and coaches also described the inclusively of the games activities
and how pupils are encouraged to join in whatever their level of skill.
I
don’t know whether Dad’s inclusive ethos came from his
father’s commitment to service, community and swimming (he was an Ulster Presbyterian of the old school and a cavalryman in the Great War) or whether it was from
Joe's time in the Army. I suspect it was a bit of both, but I shared a war story,
illustrating the tough times Joe’d had during his early twenties.
My Dad joined the Irish Guards during the 2nd World War –
when he was just 19. His platoon was in Normandy being shelled and they were
pinned down in shallow trenches.
Terry shouts from a neighbouring trench "Hey Joe: Got any
matches?" Terry had received 200 cigarettes from his Mum that morning.
Joe says, "Yes."
"Could you bring them over? I've cigarettes and no
matches."
Joe says, "Well that's tough luck! If you have no matches you can come
over here for them."
"Ach Joe, we're gettin' shelled!"
"I know. Bring your smokes over here."
German shells are thumping around them. Terry needs a smoke badly. So he
crawls over to Joe’s trench and they light up. They’d smoked maybe half a
cigarette when they heard this thing coming. The sound of it, the scream of it.
They hit the deck, there was an awful explosion right near by. It must have
been a 120mm shell. They look out to see a big pall of smoke covering Terry’s
trench.
Terry says, "It went into my trench ... thank goodness I came over …"
"YES, if I’d gone over there, the two of us would have been
mincemeat!!”
The Irish Guards were often in the thick of it and only a handful of the
original volunteers survived the war yet despite the carnage there were still
times when nothing was happening. They had to wait. Joe and his platoon-mates seem
to have filled that time with sport. It kept them fit and must have helped stop
them thinking of the horrors they’d been through and what was to come. Maybe
that’s why Dad’s philosophy was just to get on with life... and enjoy whatever
time you get. Dad stayed in the Army – in Germany – until 1946 and was
apparently pretty hacked off when he was demobilised – it meant he missed
competing in a big inter-service swimming gala, in Cologne.
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| Irish Guards 1st Company Christmas 1945 - Joe has the ball |
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| Water polo 1945 - Joe is 3rd from the left |
Joe was a disciplinarian though – in an era before corporal punishment
was banned. He delighted in telling a story about a colleague, Reg. It was the
first week of a new academic year and rumour reached Reg of an especially riotous
class, full of wild and demanding boys. Reg decided he wasn’t going to have any
trouble from them. On his first lesson with them he flung open the classroom
door and stormed in with a cane in his hand looking like thunder. He said
nothing but stroke up to his desk, slammed the cane down hare and glared at the
class. He must have looked homicidal. Then he started his lesson. He was
treated with respect verging on awe and never felt the need to use the cane or
even threaten anyone.
Current teachers, of course use different techniques to gain their
pupils attention and respect, and one of Dad’s big things was to give lots of
awards, medals, colours and certificates. I was encouraged in this way and
still proudly keep my award for having swum 50 yards, when I was seven.
Joe was great in encouraging his pupils – as well as his family – to try
new stuff, and not be afraid of messing up. A favourite expression was,
‘Go on – give it a go!’
I believe that my Dad encouraged loads of people to try things even if
they weren’t sure they’d make a success of it. He knew that small victories and
successes give you something to be proud of – and when you feel good about what
you’ve achieved, it allows you to make a success of yourself.
I’m proud therefore to celebrate such success by awarding the first Joe
Wilson memorial Sportsman of the year cup. I hope it will inspire more boys to
aim higher in the coming years.
