C. C. Pond
At School 1961-9; Prefect 1967-9; School Captain 1968; Chief Librarian 1967-9; Chairman School Council; Secretary Railway Society; Editor "Monovian" 1967-8; Editor "Oracle" 1967-8; Chairman Literary Circle; Chairman T.B.L. Ferroequenological Society; Chairman South West Essex Ferroequenological Society; Scorer lst XI Cricket.
As the sun sets behind the nearby sidings, a senatorial figure can be seen trolling down the railway track; the sun disappears and he heads for the nearest refreshment house for a jar of C'olne's Spring (made from pure sewage). The scene could equally be the Wood Street sidings at one o'clock in the morning; wherever it is, you can be sure it is that fervent member of the Ferroequenological Society, Chris Pond. Monoux's answer to John Betjeman, Chris could rarely be found away from a railway track, local or in the Midlands.
As the school captain faced with the new major problems, the Drinks Machine and, to a lesser extent, the new comprehensive situation, Stag rarely lost his unflappability. The notable exceptions were when his restraining hand was needed in the prefects' room; and it is only due to his rebukes that the prefects' room still exists as an institution with four walls and a roof over its head. It was his sense of responsibility and impeccable knowledge for all situations that enabled the smooth running of the school.
Not only did he carry the responsibility of School Captain but also continued with the post of Chief Librarian, which is a tiresome job at any time, yet he even found time for a new classification and reorganisation. When C.C. was not in the Library, he would be found grunting his way through a game of charades in the Prefect's Room or, frequently, he disappeared on mysterious trips, to where nobody has yet found out. Whipps Cross?
Chris had the dubious distinction of being the guardian of the key of the Machine That Rules Our Lives, the scourge of the prefects, and had it not been for his perseverence with the new tin god, it would have died an unmourned death long ago. Chris's main impact on the school was with his fire and brimstone readings in Assembly. Blasting the school like a revivalist, he was sure of waking up any unsuspecting daydreamer, and the first ten rows visibly wilted under the tirades.
Having sailed undisturbed through his "A" levels, nearly being shipwrecked over Latin "O" level, Chris had little difficulty in harbouring in Cambridge, which is not likely to be a Hardy prospect for him. We all (except the owner of a particular German newspaper) wish him the best up there and if you happen to see a shadowy figure trolling through Cambridge railway sidings one dark evening. . . .
T. H. Bloomfield
At School 1961-69; Prefect 1968; Senior Circle; Spivey House; School and District Athletics; Laboratory Steward.
Big Tom, or Long Tom, as he was sometimes known by certain prefects was a certain force for the rest of the shy, retiring mortals who dwelt in the Broom Cupboard to reckon with. His strength was sometimes put to good use on the more illiberal members of the prefectorial body, and the strength of a highly caustic, threatening sarcasm on the mumbling herd which Tom reckoned constituted the majority of the school. He will long be famous for the importation into the Prefects' Room of one lab-coat in the later stages of putrefaction, and several trays of partially dissected entrails. The former was ritually burnt: I should think the stink, notwithstanding, remains as Tom's epitaph at Monoux.
Tom was a dedicated athlete in the summer, when he would go about the field clutching his pole (some said he spent so long practising the pole became attached to him!) and working out the best technique for vaulting. He represented the Town at this in the County Schools Championships.
A bland sort of chap, Tom; rather introspective, sometimes moody-we all grew to like him, though; even if the prefects' room chairs did not. We wish him all the best-if he sometimes caused friction in our midst, it had a purging effect afterwards in his medical career.
S. J. Breame
At School 1961-69; Prefect 1968-69; Librarian 1967-69; Literary Circle; Sub-Editor "Oracle" and "Monovian"; School Music.
If you are one of those people whose greatest ideal is quiet contentment, then you will envy Steve Breame and his sojourn in the Monoux Prefects' Room. To see that worthy ambling along to or from school, seated in an armchair, or with eyes fixed on an oeuvre of some half heard-of composer, would evoke the muses in the hardest heart. This, however, is how Steve sometimes appeared. On other occasions, at 10.25 a.m. you might see an old Ford rolling up the school drive, and at 10.27 back down again. This; exceptionally, provided a school day for the S.J.B.
However, on most days, you would see him in the least mangy of the P.R. chairs-sometimes with a cocoa-stained book of French exercises (his main requisite for happiness was a gill of cocoa from the tin god) or, now and then with a book of doorless P.R. lockers. We envied him his placidity, which was ruffled only by the prospect of assembly Bible-reading. When rostered for this duty, Steve would develop the mysterious infection of some malignant gremlin, and not be seen until at least 9.30! His composure was also severely disturbed when the word 'games' was mentioned (it might here be stated this refers to the school-official-variety only).
Steve gained a well merited 'A' level distinction in English Literature but success at first in French was not his. This was promptly remedied. A good prefect and a great companion, we have every confidence he will do well in his unconditional place at Exeter University.
A. M. Bretman
At School 1961-68; Prefect 1967-68; Joint Chief Librarian 1967-68; secretary of School Council; Member of History Society, Dramatic Society and many others.
Alan, Albi or Psycho, as he was variously known was a well-known figure in the Prefects' Room, where he could be found at a11 hours of 'the day_ Indeed throughout the whole school he was a person of significance before he ever reached such a summit. Memorials to him are innumerable; a fitting one is to be found on the West Wall of the Tuckshop (another of A1bi's favourite haunts), written in his own hand: "Alan Bretman known affectionately(?) as AN, 1961-?"
Perhaps to the school, AN was known best for his acting. His skilful characterisations of pompous, smug characters in the school productions of "Waiting for Godet", "Arms and the Man"
and "The Royal Pardon" brought him more than one well-earned dramatics prize. In the Prefects' Room, -too, he put his histrionic ability into play. Famous there is his charade of "Gilly-gilly-ostanpfeffer-castenella-bogan-by-the-sea". Olivier has not tackled such a task.
As joint chief librarian he was rather over-shadowed by his colleague, the well-known Christopher Pond, whose technique of innovation at any cost and ruthless bureaucratic efficiency was more effective than Albi's passive approach. This rivalry developed into a running battle, which enlivened the Prefects' Room quite often.
Always a capable academic, Albi excelled at history, although the Staff did not always agree. His individuality of style, though not always approved, won him a place at Fitzwilliam College Cambridge, and then an Open Exhibition. We congratulate him upon this deserved success and wish him luck.
One may say in conclusion that he was always an interesting character to have around. Although not aggressive, he knew how to make his weight felt: as many initiates to the Sacred Mysteries of the Prefects' Room will know. His slightly unpredictable character kept prefects on their toes, or else on their stomachs. On walls and desk-tops, in Monoux witticisms and in memorials in gold, his name will remain a tradition of the school. We wish him well.
P. R. Good
At School 1961-9: Prefect 1967-9, Deputy School Captain, 1968-9; Mallinson House Captain; Swimming Captain; School lst. and 2nd Soccer; 2nd XI Cricket (Captain); School Council; Senior Circle; History Society.
Peter, a certain gentleman once observed, did everything he shouldn't and a little of what he should, but usually made a good job of it. He certainly went through things with enthusiasm, as is shown by the results gained by the football, cricket and swimming teams he captained. His cricket Second Eleven (perm any 11 from 43) lost to no other B team a11 season, and his football eleven was said to have 'had equivalent success, though we suspect at times it was rather hard on the referee. And to see Peter press-ganging, or selecting, as' he called it, on a Friday afternoon, usually aiding his train of thought by wielding furiously a broken stump and aiming it at innocent bystanders-even the third form came in for this treatment-was a sight unparalleled in the glorious history of the Monoux Grammar School.
Doody, ~through his sport and usual equanimity, was one of the best liked prefects, just as right from the day in 1961, when his nickname made an appearance on room 3's radiator, he had been the most tyrannical despot. As deputy school captain he was always the source of good advice, even when this took the form of a waterfilled ballon on the captain himself.
He was always in his element in that orifice known as the Prefects' room. At one period, he had a small corner to himself, which he decorated in his usual Tory-baroque-libertine (retd.) style.
The tuck shop was his next favourite haunt, and although he regretted that the beverages dispensed therein were not manufactured by Messrs. Mann, Crossman and Paulin, he made an excellent, and successful proprietor.
Scholastically, he was consistently good throughout the school, and although it was disappointment to some of us that he did not seriously try for Oxford again, we all respected his feelings on the
matter, and wish him well at Sussex University where he will probably overcome just as successfully many a sticky wicket.
At School 1961-9; Prefect 1967-9; Chairman of Historical Society 1969; Vice-Chairman Economics Society; School Council; Film Society.
With his name, Al was sure to go far and so the Cambridge Entrance Examinations proved only a minor hinderance. What were 'A' Levels anyway? He well deserved his success for the work he put in; a great change from his days in the lower school as a juvenile delinquent.
Al was one of the more politically-minded prefects, fighting to uphold the ethics of the Socialist Party of Great Britain in the prefects' room, and capitalism wilted under his arguments. Not surprisingly some were prepared to listen to him but unfortunately stagnant conservatism still received fillips during the year.
Though he could work wonders with a football boot and a shinpad, Al was never a sportsman, but proved active in many fields. In the prefects' room, Footsy (A1 was Footsy champion), charades and specialised fights flourished for many moons under his guidance. His main claims to fame were his delightful "Stripper" joke which would always get us going, and his Mini. Although incredibly ignorant of what was under its bonnet, he was not deterred from glorifying it endlessly. Musically; A1 preferred traditional folk songs but he remained ever a great fan of Ginger Baker's.
We await the great socialist revolution in Cambridge in a couple of years time and if it succeeds, A1 will well deserve a pat on the back. It is understood that when his historical studies are finished he is assured of a career in Weedex fertilizers.
T. W. Hutchings At School 1966-69; Prefect 1968-69; Librarian 1967; Folk, Society; Literary Circle.
None of us would have said Terry was a successful prefect; latterly, Terry would not himself admit to trying to gain that end. But we shall remember the Terry of 4X days, the enthusiast for everything, the writer of rambling and intelligent essays, of poetry of religious discussions, and the originator of much of the form room humour and a contributor in no small way to the good atmosphere of the lower-sixth.