Consequences of Learning English part 4 by thadeusz

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The next morning, we were all woken up by the same bell at 7:00 am. I did what Prefect Mark had told me to do: wash quickly (there was a common bathroom for every two "sleeping rooms", thus for 12 students). Then I put on my uniform and I must say that on that day, I started to like it. Suddenly Mark appeared and asked me:
"How do you feel, new student, in your uniform ?"
I chose to tell him an ‘adapted’ truth and I said:
"Well, I feel fine, sir. Thank you for forcing me to wear this."
But then I told him the full truth.
"And how do you like your new haircut ?"
"Well sir, not very much."
He looked at me frowning, so I quickly added:
"But it is easier to comb."
"You forgot to say ‘SIR’, next time you will be punished if you do it again. In any case, you will have other surprises which you will like. Now go and have a solid breakfast."

We all went to breakfast and at 8:30 am we were grouped in a huge hall where the Headmaster gave us the latest news concerning this school and what he considered to be relevant for us from the rest of the world. It was rapidly finished and the school Chaplain called us all to pray. Most of the students remained in this hall, but I had been told to follow the Roman Catholic students in a smaller hall where they prayed while I did not understand a word of what they were doing.

Classes started at 9:30 am which was late compared to what I was used to, but the purpose here was only to give some basics to the students and to teach them how to study by themselves during the study hours.

One thing puzzled me, when I wanted to clean my cubicle and make my bed, Mark interrupted me and said:
"That’s not work for you. Leave it for your boy."
I did not know what he meant nor who that "boy" could be.

Mark also led me to the Dining hall for lunch and told me that the lunch would start exactly like the previous evening meal: all the students were standing in front of their chairs for the prayer and after that, when the Prefect in charge told us to sit, attendants came and gave us our dish.

During the afternoon classes, I realized that my roommates were in fact studying courses which were advanced courses for me. So I decided not to study with them, but to concentrate on English. Then came the study time, the short free time in the courtyard, the evening meal and the study time in our cubicles. That was my first full day in Tornberg School.

The other days of the week were also interesting, especially as far as my English was concerned.

When Friday arrived, I told my roommates that I hoped to go and have a long walk in the countryside during the week-end, or go somewhere and drink a beer or even better go to a dance and meet British girls. They looked at me like they would have looked at a strange animal. Suddenly one of them, Adrian, started to laugh, and all of them laughed also ! At that time, I did not understand why they found me "funny".

During what should have been the afternoon free time in the playground, Prefect Mark came and fetched me. He told me:
"Now, Boy Jan, off to the storage room for another surprise."
I obeyed and when I arrived at the storage room the attendant gave me my British Army uniform, BDU type with a beret. I did not understand why I, a citizen of The Netherlands, got this. My astonishment must have been visible so Mark explained:
"As a Tornberg School student, you are automatically a member of the Combined Cadet Force. Here we have an Army Cadet Unit. You will not stay here for a very long time, but you will spend each weekend in military uniform doing military exercises. Get dressed rapidly and then put your school uniform in your cupboard."

The attendant made a questioning sign to Mark who added:
"Yes, he must also have a ceremony uniform, for the ceremonies while he is with us."

The BDU was khaki and appeared comfortable and easy to wear, the ceremony uniform seemed more heavy, hotter and had to be worn with a tie. Like the rest of this uniform the tie was khaki. There was also a wide and heavy leather belt. In both cases, the uniform had to be worn with high black boots, rather heavy. There was a difference: Prefect Mark showed me that with the BDU, the CCF trousers had to be neatly tucked inside the boots, and it was exactly the contrary with the parade uniform. The beret was of course khaki in both cases with the school crest on it.

I did not know if I was pleased to have to disguise myself that way ! The attendant showed me, in silence, how to get dressed. When I was done, disguised as a British soldier, I noticed that all my roommates were now wearing the same uniform. Together we boarded a bus and left for a real Army Barrack.

During the weekend, we had military activities inside and outside the barracks. On Friday evening, we had a campfire and, while sitting around, we had Army songs. Adrian, who was becoming a real friend, helped me learn these Army songs. He had become a real friend for the little foreigner that I was. I really liked that part of the weekend.

But, I did not like the fact that we were sleeping, 12 of us, in the same room with only one bathroom. Neither did I like the fact that here, I had to take part in the cleaning of our room and to make my bed all by myself. I had gotten used to the fact that all that was done for me by others in the school.

There were also younger boys with us, wearing a pseudo scout uniform looking like an Army incomplete uniform. They were doing all kinds of activities near us.

We started our Army training on Friday evening. I, the Dutch boy, liked being for once in an Army uniform and that surprised me when I realized this fact.

I did not like Sunday morning: there was a compulsory service with the Chaplain, and I had to attend this service whether I liked it or not.

Sunday afternoon, we went back, rather late and exhausted, to Tornberg School. We were told to change into our usual clothes and to start an individual study session.

The two following weeks were good and I liked that part of my stay in Tornberg School. Then came the last week of the English school year.

During this last week, my comrades had to take exams and they expected that. They were prepared. But I was also forced to take the same exams. At first I did not know my results, but it had been very difficult because I had had no time or opportunity to study. I nevertheless did my best. Remember that I had correctly completed a Dutch 9th grade, and that I had now been questioned on the British 9th grade program, but this time in English.

The next day was "leaving day" for most of my roommates : they were leaving Tornberg School for the holidays. Some had to stay because their school results were not satisfactory.

I also expected to leave and go back to Holland, but I was told to stay: I first had to appear in front of the Headmaster. I was supposed to remain in a Tornberg School uniform, the only clothes accessible to me (with my military uniform).

The Assistant Head took me through the first grid, enabling me to enter the building with the clothing department and with the barber. I assumed that I was now going to have to give back my Tornberg School uniform and simultaneously get back my own clothes.

But that was not the case. The Assistant Head took me further to the first courtyard and from there to the Head’s office.

This important man told me:
"Boy Marvan, your parents have received weekly progress reports concerning your behaviour. They were impressed by your new attitude. They thus want you to stay here during the rest of your holidays, which are also the school holidays of your Dutch school. You will thus remain here for one more month. Before that you will take some exams to examine your precise school level."

The Assistant Head took me immediately back to where he considered that I belonged. I did not have the opportunity to say that I did not like the fact that I thus had to remain in uniform and to keep studying during what I considered as my holidays.

Something worse was going to happen: the Assistant Head told me that, after nearly one month, my hair was now too long and that I had to go back to the barber office. That’s where he led me immediately.

The barber made me once more sit on his chair. He caped me and told me:
"My boy, since you are renewing your stay in our great school, I should again give you a mild induction cut. But, since you will go back to your home country in one month, I will simply give you a very mild pseudo-induction cut, leaving lots of hair."
The Assistant Head did not object and I got out of this barber office with a short bowl cut, which I did not like but to which I could not really object. After all, it was only for one more month.

After that I was led back to a special room where the Assistant Head told me to answer many questions related to all the 9th grade courses. I answered as well as I could, considering that the 9th grade level in that school was much higher than in my Dutch school. The Assistant head concluded that I had a lot to learn but he did not tell me more.

During this additional month in Tornberg School I also had to attend two military camps: these occurred on weekends and were introduced as scout games, full of sports, but also full of training for a strict military discipline and associated with ceremonies accomplished with real soldiers.

At the end of this unexpected month, I was led back to Tornberg School, still in Army cadet uniform. That’s how the Assistant Head led me to a special zone where I was told, still in Army Cadet uniform, to take additional tests. These additional tests lasted for two days. During this period, I was told to sleep on a bunk inside this special zone. I was thus completely isolated, except for my meals which were served by a special assistant clad in the same black uniform as our "servants" and as the barber and the tailor.

For two days, I remained alone in my worn out military uniform taking difficult tests. Most of the time, I was alone there. The Assistant Head told me that these tests were needed to write the certificate I would get when I left Tornberg School in order to go home.

I would have liked to be again in civvies, in my own clothes, but the Assistant head explained to me that since I did not have a new school uniform, I had to wear at least some sort of uniform.

When all these difficult tests were done, I had to wait in that small place alone and in that stupid old army uniform for another day. I was fed, but that was all. I felt that I was in a cell since I was locked in that small place.

The next day, after my noon meal (served in my small cell) I was told to go back to the Headmaster. I assumed that it was to organize my departure from Tornberg School since school in Holland was about to start again.

The Headmaster told me several things:
"Master Marvan, your parents did not like the way you studied in the Netherlands. This is why they tried to send you to a British school, knowing that English was your weak point. But you were tested before your summer Army Camp and you failed all the 9th grade tests. Nevertheless, your parents liked the progress reports we sent to them. Despite these progresses, they had to admit that you could not go to a 10th grade as you hoped and expected."
"But, Sir, I am officially admitted to the 10th grade in my school," was my reaction.
"Precisely, that’s why it was decided that after Army Camp, you would take all the 9th grade tests again and if you then got a pass, you could then attend a 10th grade. Your parents really want you to stay in this school considering the high level of our education."
"Yes sir, but what am I going to do now ?"
"Well, you failed several 9th grade tests, especially English. As a consequence your parents decided, with me, that you are staying in 9th grade. In order to make things as comfortable as possible for you, you are now going to get a completely new set of uniforms instead of the old ones you are wearing presently. The same will be done for your CCF army uniform."
"But, sir, I was a good student in the Netherlands and I got good results. I passed all 9th grade tests, sir."
"Yes Boy Marvan, but that was in a weaker school with a weaker program. Your parents want you to stay here with a strong program."
"But, Sir, can I at least call my parents ?"
"That’s enough, Boys are not allowed to call by phone, but you can write to them what you want in your compulsory weekly letter. But be aware that a decision has been taken and you are now an actual 9th grader. Go with the Assistant Head to the tailor and get a complete set of new 9th grade uniforms and ask the Assistant Head to take you once more to the school barber. By the way, you must pay the Barber a visit every week as of now. GO NOW, boy Marvan."

I realized that my parents had chosen to make me a repeater and to force me to stay as a boarder in this school with a strict discipline where I had none of my Dutch friends. I was now locked in this school for at least one full year.

My exams just after the summer military camp were bad, partly because of my poor knowledge of English, but mainly because I did not master the notions taught in 9th Grade, in Tornberg School, even if I had a 9th Grade diploma in Holland. So I had to at least repeat 9th Grade because I was not able to go to the 10th Grade since that is already the preparation of the A level.

So I was doomed to become a repeater and I hated that ! I had never been a repeater and that hurt me a lot. I started to hate my parents for doing that, but I also hated the Headmaster and the Assistant Headmaster.

The Assistant Head led me once more to the clothing department where the Tailor took my measurements to prepare for me a completely new 9th Grader uniform and a set of new CCF uniforms. I tried to object to that, but the Assistant Head told me with a rather angry voice:
"Keep quiet boy Marvan. The best choice has been made for you. You simply have to obey if you don’t want a solid beating."
I felt very bad since I would now be with boys aged 15 despite the fact that I was now 16.

The Assistant Head told me that all that had been decided "For the best for your future, Boy Marvan since your mental age is in fact 15."
That’s when I decided to keep quiet.

I was told to give back my CCF uniform, while I waited for a new one, and to put on once again my old Boy uniform, until my new one was ready.

The Assistant Head took me then once more to the grid separating the administrative building and the Boys rooms and classes.

The Assistant Head also told me to give him my watch since "I was now definitely a young 9th Grader". I could still look at the big clock on top of the door of our class, but I no longer had a "private way" to keep track of time. I resented all that.

I could not call my parents but I had to write them a weekly letter. I used that "duty" to ask them to take me back, but they always replied that their choice had been made for my own good

That’s when I started to rebel and I adopted a bad behaviour: I was frequently punished for refusing to study my 9th Grade courses and eventually I even got a serious "caning". After several such punishments it was decided that I would have an additional punishment: I was caned and my head was completely shaved, in public, and I was placed in isolation with only bread and water for two days

I must admit that I was furious and that I destroyed my parents' pictures, as if I wanted to kill them symbolically. I got another "special" caning for that.

After that dreadful action, I was brought to the Headmaster who told me:
"You want to rebel because you want to be expelled, but that will not be the case. If you keep rebelling, you will be punished again in the same way and lose time for your studies. You already lost nearly 5 months and you have very bad grades. If you keep doing this, you will have to repeat your 9th Grade once more."

I was frightened by that announcement and I started behaving well and studying as well as I could, despite the fact that I was now really behind in some domains. My only good domain was English which was getting better and better. Mathematics was not too bad. In any case, I studied now with my friend Adrian who also had to repeat his 9th Grade.

During the Christmas holidays I was not sent home, but to an Army camp where I behaved well. I even liked it, but I was not allowed to go to Holland and see my family. In fact I did not really mind: now, I hated my parents.

On the last weekend of these Holidays, my parents came and spoke with me in a small room, near the Head’s office, for one hour. My parents admired my uniform which I did not hate anymore: in fact I was no longer thinking about the obligation to wear such a uniform and the lack of freedom to wear what I really liked. Nevertheless, my parents commented on my school results which were really bad. They advised me to work hard if I did not want to have to stay one more year in 9th Grade or even be sent back to 8th Grade for the rest of the present year.

After that, I behaved like the 15 year old I was pretending to be: I really felt that I was risking having to repeat that 9th Grade and I was afraid. I started working hard with my roommate and friend Adrian, who was also a 9th Grade repeater.

Luckily, I was also sent for several weekends to Army Cadets duty and once again, I liked that.

At the end of the school year, there were written exams and I really did my best: I was seriously afraid that my results would not be satisfactory because of the way I behaved in the beginning of the school year.

When the exams were over, I was sent for 3 weeks to my Army Cadet Camp where I performed well, but without enjoying it as much as the previous year. I was anxious about my final results.

When this "camp duty" was over, we were all, all the borders, sent back to school and before the official end of the year ceremony, each of us was called in turn inside the Head’s office. There, each of us got a preliminary announcement of his results. I was really anxious.

Adrian went before me and came beaming out of the Head’s office: he was admitted definitely in 10th gGrade. When it was my turn, the Headmaster and the Assistant Headmaster received me. The Headmaster told me that my results were far from being as good as one could have hoped, despite the excellent efforts made during the last part of the school year. That’s when I started trembling. He then told me:
"You are now 16 and still behind as far as Grade 9 is concerned. Normally you should be sent to a vocational school, but after discussing this with your parents it has been decided that you will once again repeat your 9th Grade. You will be a ‘first time repeater’ as far as British schools are concerned, but you will have to wear a repeater badge on each of your sleeves."
I immediately asked the Head:
"Wouldn’t it be possible for me to go back to my former Dutch school ?"
But the Head replied:
"My boy, your parents have decided that you must stay in Tornberg School until you get your diploma."
"But, Headmaster, respectfully, that is unfair."
The Assistant Headmaster promptly replied:
"Do you want a good caning for saying that ? You should not object to your parents' decision. In any case, since you are not an excellent student, you are now sent to special study for two weeks".

Special study meant that I was forced to attend in complete silence the courses selected by the Assistant Headmaster and that I was locked in a "study cell" when I was not in classes. It is there that I received my food, and there that I had to wash and sleep, alone and far from my friends.

After these two weeks, during which I had lots of time to think about my situation, I started to adjust and to feel better. In any case, I was not allowed to go home for my holidays. The only things I could do was to repeat all my 9th Grade courses in order to prepare for my 10th Grade and for my Army training.

Unluckily, I was now completely separated from my friend Adrian who had been admitted in 10th Grade and who had been sent to visit his parents.

I realized that I had no choice, so I decided that I HAD to feel better, and it worked more or less.

In fact I felt better, but not completely. I thus decided to behave as well as possible in the future, to avoid further punishment and especially to avoid further caning or stay in the isolation room. I also decided to try to renew with Adrian when he would be back from his parents, provided he accepted me as a friend again. But he was a 10th Grader now and did not have much time for my friendship since I was only a "stupid 9th Grader".

Luckily, in September, Adrian accepted my friendship since we were still in the same room. But whenever we went to the military camp, he was now my superior and I had to accept this fact gracefully.

Three months later, in November, I was called to the Head’s office. This chief had bad news for me: my parents both died in a plane crash. The Headmaster also told me:
"Your parents left a will and selected me as your guardian. As of now you are my ward and I must take all decisions for your well being. Luckily for you, your parents left enough money for your studies, provided you don't have to repeat again one school year. Another decision and you must stay in Tornberg School until you get your diploma."

I was living completely in Tornberg School and I had no longer any address in my home country, nor any reference in Holland.

That’s when I asked the Assistant Head if I could have some picture of my dead parents, but I was told that I destroyed the only available ones. I then went and visited the school priest for the first time. There I asked for consolation.

After this dreadful event I started to study better. I even became a good 9th Grader, maybe even the best one. I worked well at school, I was disciplined and I kept doing well as an Army Cadet. I even started to like very much Cadet life

Finally, I was allowed to move to the 10th Grade after my 2nd Grade 9 in England and one more in Holland. In this 10th Grade, I continued to work well. I was then allowed to move to Grade 11.

This implied that I had to wear another uniform, the type of uniform I had seen in the first courtyard when I arrived: blue with striped for the jacket and again long trousers. I was reunited there with Adrian who was a "normal" student, but not an excellent one.

I was now also a "normal" Tornberg School student (well, with a two year delay) and I was preparing for my A level. I was even considered as an excellent student.
I also liked to have to attend the cadets activities: this enabled me to refresh my mind from the pure intellectual activities. I must add here that I was in another dorm, reunited with Adrian who, and this was a funny situation, needed my help for his studies.

I did not regret the two years lost in England. I realized then that these two "lost years" helped me become a typical British student with a typical 11th Grader haircut.

Finally, I got all the A levels needed to complete my studies. I wanted to go back to Holland and attend a Dutch University in my birth country. But the funds left by my parents were exhausted and the Headmaster told me that I should try to get a scholarship.

I wrote letters to Dutch universities, but my request for a scholarship was rejected because I no longer lived in Holland and moreover I had "only" A levels, which were not a diploma compatible with a Dutch diploma.

Upon advice of the Tornberg School Headmaster, I started writing letters to British universities. My diploma was approved but my request for a scholarship was denied because I was not a British citizen.

I asked the Headmaster for advice. He told me that I was technically living in England since my parents’ death and practically longer. I could thus ask for British citizenship provided I had a job in Great-Britain, which was not the case since I was specialized in nothing.

That’s when the Headmaster suggested that I should accept working as a cleaner in Tornberg School while asking for citizenship. He added:
"You could then work for the only trade for which you have been prepared and where you are doing very well: the military".

I accepted hoping to be sent to Sandhurst and become an officer but the Headmaster added:
"That would take too long and would probably be refused for security reasons. You should first try to join as a Private".

I followed his advice and joined the cleaning staff. I got a cleaner uniform: black trousers with a red stripe on the side and a black tunic with a high collar and the well known Tornberg School crest on it. On top of this, I had now a Tornberg School black bell-boy hat, held on my head by an elastic.
This hat had only one advantage: there were no special restrictions on hair length except "reasonably short".

Adrian had succeeded to be admitted to Sandhurst officer academy thanks to some advice I gave him, especially in mathematics. But, as soon as I was in a cleaner uniform, my former friend Adrian stopped speaking with me. Anyway, he was rarely in Tornberg School.

On the contrary, I made friends with the cleaners. Most of them came from India and some were interesting Welsh people who told me a lot about Wales.
I worked there for a full year, and I had now holidays with my new friends in Wales. Nevertheless, I missed my military activities.

As soon as I got my British citizenship, I joined the Welsh Grenadiers hoping to be able to move up the ranks rapidly, but this is was not the case : I learned to live as a plain grenadier in uniform most of the time, often in red tunic for ceremonies especially for the then Queen, since my regiment had the Duke of Edinburgh as honorary Colonel.

After about 20 years of service, I am now Staff sergeant. I am married and I have four kids: first a boy, then a girl and finally two twin boys. My A levels are now of no use for me but I am happy in my military life.

My wife and I decided to send each of our kids to France at the age of 14 to learn French, but we never left them there for more than one month.

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