The following is an extract from the story of Shoreham Grammar School, an independent boys school in West Sussex as remembered by A. R. West and P. J. White.

After an extended Summer holiday the boarders from Shoreham Grammar School arrived at Liphook, the temporary residence for the school during World War II, in September 1940, and by chance were brought to the luxury of a country estate with some 400 acres of countryside having a house and outbuildings covering about three acres.

This was a tremendous change from the very austere and restrictive surroundings of Shoreham Grammar School at Shoreham, and the pupils at least were delighted with their new surroundings.

Milland House- Liphook

Under the head-ship of Mr. Kirkham the house was converted into very comfortable living quarters with approximately ten small dormitories ranging from four to a dozen occupants. At Shoreham dormitories held forty boys, the difference in the quality of life under these circumstances was remarkable.

The academic part of the school was situated mainly in a large barn on the other side of an inner courtyard from the main house building, and continued along one other side with small rooms used for laboratories and a room in which the first and second forms were situated.

Great ingenuity was used in constructing a successful science laboratory almost from string and sealing wax in one of these outbuildings, and in the years at Milland this developed into an area in which relatively complicated experiments were brought to a successful conclusions, still using cleverly devised apparatus.
The laboratory was the only independent classroom, all other forms being situated in the main barn, which had at one end a squash court and the other end a partitioned-off area in which the fifth and sixth forms were housed.

The middle and upper fourth forms occupied the squash court, while the centre section took the third and lower fourth forms. This area was used also for assembly and the infamous Red List (Detention).
The Barn was fairly lofty, and on occasions the noise when all forms were hammering away strongly had to be heard to be believed. In spite of these difficult conditions the quality of education did not appear to suffer and it only went to prove how hardy both master's and pupils could be under difficult and trying circumstances.

Initially the daily routine gave the boys every afternoon off but this was soon modified and the only free afternoon was then on Thursday.

There was normal morning school, afternoon school and evening prep. We did not carry over from Shoreham the tradition of morning prep, so giving the luxury of being able to lie in bed officially until 7.30 a.m. There was even a tendency for some 90 per cent to be still in bed at two minutes to eight when the breakfast bell went!

Whilst initially the fringe academic subjects had to give way to other more important pursuits, they were not forgotten and the enthusiasm of the staff in their spare time rapidly produced plays, music facilities in the garage, and even dances with the girls from Charters Towers evacuated nearby.

This was probably the greatest single revolution in Shoreham Grammar School in all its history, and, regretfully, possibly its biggest failure, as it did not last very long, although the reasons for its cessation were never widely publicised!

It did, however, produce a lasting, if somewhat illicit, association between the pupils of the two schools, which was a constant source of enjoyment to their pupils and a constant source of consternation to the staff.

As a certain unnamed headmaster said to a certain unnamed prefect one Sunday evening. 'There are boys and girls meeting in the garden, go around and chase them out but don't on any account catch anyone!'
Every ex-boy from Milland will link members of the staff to certain events or sayings - they will remember 'Kill-em-dead' O'Sullivan, 'Poop' Hammant, 'My name's Green - and that's the only thing green about me'.

No one can forget Miss Williams and her stationery cupboard or Miss Watts and Miss Smith who carried on the good work in the tradition of the matrons from Shoreham and were loved by all despite the horrible treatments they so pleasantly administered. 'Pop' Chitty ran the tuck-shop, which in those lean times was sparsely stocked but was still capable of devouring our pocket money.

In January 1941 Mr. Kirkman left the school to take the Headship of Framlingham College, Suffolk, and Mr. E.A. Bruder was appointed Headmaster at Milland.

In the summer of 1941 Mr Podd and family left Shoreham to join the Framlingham staff, Mr. K.W. Barrell married Miss Owens and he was appointed Headmaster of the day school at Shoreham. Mr. Kirkman, although he was now resident at Framlingham, remained the principal Director of the school company.

The accession of Mr. Bruder produced a significant change in the relationship between headmaster and pupil. Effectively the day of the rod was gone, and the velvet glove concealing the iron fist had arrived.

At the time one felt that one could get away with many things but only afterwards was it realised that one really got away with only what was allowed. There was a vast well of knowledge of the slightly more nefarious activities, which were noted but quietly overlooked.

This gave a feeling of freedom and also development within the School of a voluntary discipline to replace the imposed discipline of the past. It did not, of course, mean that the pupils did not occasionally suffer the cane or other forms of punishment but its frequency was vastly reduced.

In this context we well remember the occasion on which the whole of the fifth and sixth forms, with one exception, were caned for baking potatoes on the stove in the barn. The punishment, however, was levied without malice and was received in the same manner, both sides being in good humour throughout the painful proceedings.

Despite our being insulated from the more violent effects of wartime, it was always in the background. Initially when the air-raid warnings went, we were all marshalled down into the hall, but as there were no air-raid shelters and no real place of safety in which to gather we were allowed subsequently to stay in our beds.
The war approached closely on some occasions and bombs were dropped at the 'pig farm', and during break one day we watched a lightning aircraft crash into a nearby field. The whole school trooped over to the site at the first available opportunity, hoping to gather souvenirs.

Later on, of course, the proposition became much more dangerous when the doodle bugs commenced, since with our being on the first row of hills after the South Downs they seemed to be coming straight for us and in fact several landed in the area.

There was always the problem of blackout and this became an excuse for a regular diversion in the middle of prep when the blackout blinds were lowered with an assortment of debris landing with unfailing regularity all over the floor and causing great hilarity within the barn.