The ‘Drum Major’ tosses the mace.

Now the other day I was talking to someone about experiences we had that had created a memory that was out of the ordinary. A ‘thrill’ an ‘achievement’. In truth I am happy to say I have many of these but the one I chose to relate came from my school days.

I went to a ‘direct grant school’ a sort of poorer man’s Public School as the local authorities subsidised students from the local community who excelled in the then ‘eleven plus’exam but whose parents could not afford school fees. I lived out side the schools immediate catchment area so I did not qualify for this route and my dear Mum went out to work and saved hard to allow me an education that was first class. The school had a fearsome reputation in all that it did. It believed in excellence in all things. Winning was considered the ‘only thing’ to strive for and being ordinary in any way was just not entertained.

Every Thursday the whole school became Soldiers, Sailors and Airmen for the afternoon. For those who loved it it was a great escape from lessons and every summer we were encouraged to spend a week at a summer ‘posting’ to experience military life first hand. I will relate stories of dangling from helicopters, experiencing a Mayday call over Norway and what it is like to go in a decompression chamber in a later post.

The CCF, as it was known, was a very high standard and once a term the whole lot would ‘parade’ before a church service followed by a march past of School Governors and some former school dignitaries. Almost every parent would attend with friends and as a result there was always a large crowd of onlookers.

The School ‘Corps Of Drums’ was a fiercely independent organisation and elected and trained its own. The school music master had offered help and the rebuke he received irked him to such a degree that he banned anyone who played in The Corps of drums from the school orchestra. Now the afore mentioned Professor SK Smith and myself had taken up the trumpet and one of our great delights was playing the descant in Land of Hope and Glory when the Orchestra gave recitals.We had joined in our second year.

Now 16 we had a difficult choice as the “Drums” as they were known, were recruiting. We decided to apply and both of us, given our trumpet back grounds, became soloist at the church parade. It was quite a thing to play the ‘last post’ on your own! Any way the decision to join the ‘drums’ meant we were summarily banished from the orchestra. There were snare drummers, two tenor drummers who, I am ashamed to say, wore animal skin aprons and played their drums with swirling, swinging white drum sticks. A big Bass Drummer whose beat set the tempo for marching. Finally there were around 12 burglars who were directed in their timing by a number of signs they learned to understand and react to from the man in charge ‘The Drum Major’.

One particular church parade I played ‘The Retreat’ faultlessly and as this rendition coincided with my entry into my final year the vote from within the drums for the new Drum Major resulted in my unanimous selection. Very pleasing. My uniform was naval ‘number ones’ with the cross creases in the trousers. When on ‘drums’ duty I wore white gators, a white belt and my chin strap that normally was hidden was pulled down in sight. To top it all I wore large white gauntlets. My boots shone like mirrors my brasses were immaculate and my gold uniform badges looked splendid. As I was now IC the Corps of Drums I was promoted to equal highest rand in the school Royal Naval section, Petty Officer. The other Petty Officer was Hugh Dalgleish who went on to command a nuclear driven warship and he was the commander of The Royal Yacht Britannia!!-wait for that story!

Any way I cannot tell you just what a feeling it was to line up at the head of the whole school CCF before leading them around the block of the school before the church service. The ‘Sergeant major’ would address the six hundred boys who had just been inspected by a dignitary to ‘Shoulder arms”. ‘Parade will move to the right in threes Royal Naval section leading, Parade right turn.’ It was my turn. My heart pounding I let go the following command. ‘Drums by the centre QUICK MARCH’ Of we would go a three beat followed by a seven beat of the drums and my rolling mace would signal the buglers to break into ‘General Salute’ or some other marching tune. Me at the front in all my finery six hundred young men in my wake.

After church the CCF would line up on the parade ground and the ‘Drums’ would march up and down in front of the parents on the school field that overlooked the main quadrangle which served as the aforementioned ‘parade ground’.

Now there is a movement involving the mace that signals a short pause in a tune a sort of staccato break in the rendition. Difficult to explain but of no matter. The move involves first positioning the sharp end of the four foot mace on the palm of the gauntleted hand before tossing it upwards. Three complete spins before catching the thing, wait for this, between the first two fingers of the right hand followed by a series of circling movements all timed to signal ‘the pause’ followed by the continuing tune. It is a very tricky manoeuvre and whilst known to all recent Drum Majors and often practiced, the manoeuvre but it had not been seen at Church parade in recent living memory. Dropping the mace was just unthinkable. That was about to change.

I led the ‘Drums’ away from the spectators up the field , I signalled a ‘counter march’ and we headed back toward the dais with dignitaries awaiting there to receive our ‘march past’ and formal salute. Word on the street was I was ‘going to do it’ and I suspect there was an expectant hum amongst the parents and onlookers. My mates in the Rugby Teams would surely be squinting up toward the field from the main troop to see what happened. I signalled for a bugle tune with my revolving mace and added the command ‘Rabbits” which was a particular tune with the necessary pause in it. My intentions confirmed to my ‘band’ of brothers. My heart thumping I lead the Drums forward towards the large crowd and just as the tune hit its critical point I hurled the mace skywards its solid silver crest and chain sparkling in the sunlight. The catch was perfect as I approached the dais and dignitaries and my head was held high as I ordered ‘Eyes right’ and I saluted. I was in truth quite the hero. Strange to think that something like that gave so much pleasure and strange to think I can so vividly recapture the moment these many years later.