Woodlands School

I started at Woodlands in 1963. Like some other boys I hated the place, I was in Cresswell. Thankfully we moved to Warwick so I was only there for year. My Dad worked for Torrington Machine Tools and they moved to new premises in Nelson Lane, sadly no longer there. My Maths teacher was Mr Ratlidge. I hated him and he definitely did not like me. I was definitely not the sharpest knife in the drawer when it came to this subject. I was terrified of him, any excuse I could think of to tell my mum that would get me off going to school was used. I do remember getting the slipper and a ruler across my knuckles but the one that I remember most was being pulled out in front of the class and being told to sit in the waste paper bin as I was rubbish. I cannot remember what I had done but it must have been bad! I started my second year at Oken High School, Myton Rd, Warwick. I enjoyed my time there, was never disciplined, even got a commendation in Maths. Having been told I was rubbish things did not turn out too bad for me.

Hi Hopeful1234 Joe Routledge was an evil man and a bully. He was also not a good maths teacher.

Hello, Thank you all for sharing what you honestly believe. Not all experiences are so easy to share. Brill.

I wonder if that's the same Joe Ratlidge who was at Broad Heath School in the mid to late Fifties, he used to get you to bend over a chair and whack you across your backside with a piece of black rubber 12ins long 2ins wide and half inch thick and it was known as his Black Jack.

I started at Woodlands in 1965 and can't remember anyone by the name of Ratlidge/Routledge or whatever, my Maths Teacher was Mr. Corbett (known of course as 'Sooty') ! He used to eat raw Chillies from a little paper bag he always had on his Desk, and if one mis-behaved (in his eyes), the said pupil was made to stand and eat a raw Chilli !

Just dug out my school report for Woodlands 1961 My maths section was signed J.J.R, Whom was Joe J Routledge (don't know what the middle J stood for) (perhaps JERK) Only ever had him for my first year, After that I had John Keith Corbett for the next 4 years.

Well what a fine example of a teacher he was eh, hope he was pleased with himself beating kids up.

Hi Paul, how did things turn out? I joined the Police, detective for 25 yrs. Retired in 2012. All the best.

Hello, Or should I say: "Halo alo-alo-! What do we have here" . If I haven't greeted you before, please forgive me. I will come quietly. Thank you for your posts.

Hello, I was at Templars 1971-1976, the Cresswell house at Woodlands 1976-1983. I have recently written an account of my school days that includes a lot of humour and other stuff about growing up in the Tile Hill area in the 1970s. I pull no punches in the book, which I write after serving 33 years as a teacher and Headteacher, observing my own school experience through that particular lens. I make it clear where I stand on many of the things I experienced. A sample, if you are interested, is in the reply to this original post. My signature includes a link to obtain one of the three formats in which the book has been published, or simply scan the QR code. I am not making more than pennies from this, so please do not feel I am barging in to cash out...writing is not a good earner, I assure you. I really wanted to write about my school days, that's all. If you are interested, please have a read. Happy to answer any queries, just message me. I am still in Coventry. If you fancy the Kindle edition, it does not require a Kindle device to work...simply download the Kindle app from the Apple or Play stores (it's free), and it will work on any electronic device, e.g., phone, tablet, or PC.

An excerpt: ...It was history for the last period of the day on Thursday, the fourth day. Mr Bingley, a dour figure, was going on about something dull when the boy right in front of him on the first row of seats, Paul Springer, burped. It was a fabulous burp, too, like the bellowing of a bull bison. This massive sound had to have gestated for some considerable time before its glorious release, all helped along by Springer arching his neck backward to project the sound further, which was both guttural and massive. Bingley went nuts, more so because, from sleepy insouciance, the entire classroom erupted in spontaneous, raucous laughter, Springer releasing the tension with one magnificent, truly magnificent, burp that had built up during our first week in this fresh hell. 'I'm going to cane you, boy,' screamed Bingley, his face puce with rage as he grabbed Springer by the scruff of his neck and lifted him effortlessly out of his seat in one impressive movement. Springer's feet didn't touch the floor, almost hilariously, Bingley rag-dolling his little body out of the room and onto the landing for the thrashing, as the rest of us fell into a shocked but strangely excited silence. We waited. And we waited. We could hear Bingley organising the scaffold, and, as he instructed Springer to bend over, the fear in the lad's voice as he attempted a last-minute, grovelling apology. A brief silence followed, then the swish and then the whack, which was surely delivered way too forcefully, given the size and weight difference of the lad and his teacher. Springer screamed, horribly, too. The final humiliation was to reinsert the sobbing rag doll back into its seat, again almost hilariously, in one movement, where Springer would spend the rest of the lesson with his head on the desk, crying. That, dear reader, was Corporal Punishment, an act of violence against children so beloved by some. If Springer did not develop an immediate hate for the bully that Bingley was, I did. I had never seen or heard anything remotely like this in primary school, and I was horrified. It was dreadful and disgusting, and to this day, I still think of how awful it was. I never asked Bingley a question nor offered an answer to any of his boring questions, my silence and personal strike a reflection of my disgust. It took me years to view history in a different light due to the Bingley belching bison episode. Springer came from a poor background, and he was one of three boys from Templars who were allocated a slot in the Cresswell house intake, with Graham Jones and me, so I had known him for years. He was the smallest kid in the form group, and he had the most miserable life of any other in the school. And here he was, flogged for burping. Like a bison. He did arch his neck, though. Anyway, we move on...

Hello and welcome, superbia75es Sounds like your school was as bad or worse than mine ('Enry 8th). I had two close friends, one went to Bluecoats, and the other Woodlands. The initiation for starters was being fuzzed at at our place. Which now seems quite tame. (A rubber scuff/burn on the back of the neck, and "FUZZ" being shouted deafeningly loud down yer lug'ole). My Woodlands mate Army Paul said a new starter got forced into the toilets by big kids, then his head was shoved down the bog-hole and held there whilst the lavatory cistern was flushed over his head. Normal initiation practice, everyone got it, my mate Paul said. BTW, my mate Paul was a real person, a roughie-toughie type always cut out for the army, which is where he went. Not the fictional "my mate Paul" that Philomena Cunk goes on about. My mate Paul was in Ellis, so that proves it. PS "Fuzz" at our school had nothing to do with the polliss.

As I have posted a number of times on this thread, The Woodlands Comprehensive School, 1964-69 (my time there) a cesspit for bullies, both teachers and pupils

Thanks for the welcome. Appreciated. I think the school, at best, left a lot to be desired...lol.

I have responded to your PM, PP.