The education system in Britain has come under a lot of fire in recent years, and new ideas are constantly being put forward. Those of us with memories going back to the Second World War may recall our schooldays as being very different from those of today’s youngsters.
In its earlier history, the Kentish village of Dymchurch was heavily involved in smuggling. Today, it is establishing itself in the tourist trade. Between these times it was a typical English seaside village which became caught up in the war because of its location, and was named, aptly, Hellfire Corner.
Not all parents chose to have their children evacuated, and there was a not insignificant number still living in the village during the early 1940s.
They were a rag and bob-tail lot, from five to 14 years old, representing every ability, from very bright to educationally subnormal.
A young, unqualified woman teacher did her best to cope on one or two days a week, depending upon the frequency of air raids, but for most of the time the children had a freedom to do as they pleased – then into their midst came Miss Edith T. Weth.
Scarcely 5ft tall, and almost as wide, this rosy-cheeked lady, whose age was a well-kept secret, took charge of the situation and of all the children, her task was anything but easy, yet she succeeded in bringing order to the disorderly in a way which many far more traditionally-accepted teachers could never have done. In her case, size certainly did not matter.
With practically no equipment, she “talked her charges through” history, geography and English literature.
There were no textbooks, but the very mixed bunch of boys and girls thrilled to the tales of the Battle of Hastings, Joan of Arc and the succession of Victoria, and marvelled at descriptions of Niagara Ealls and the Australian Outback.
It was unlikely that there was ever a copy of the complete works of Shakespeare at Dymchurch School, but as the pupils sat at ink-stained wooden desks they were tossed on the seas in The Tempest and intrigued by the cunning in The Merchant of Venice.
The romantic angle was of great importance to the girls, for as they sat listening to what befell Juliet or Ophelia they were furiously knitting balaclavas, socks and sweaters for the Forces. They knitted dreams with the thick navy or khaki wool.
Lessons were always being interrupted by the siren, when everyone would go to sit in what was considered to be the safest part of the building. There was nothing to take with them, apart from the knitting, so it would be listening to more stories.
It was Miss Weth’s spoken word that was the basis for the education of the village children. This might have left a lot to be desired in the academic sense, but there were many who left school with a far wider knowledge of things in general than those who had received a more orthodox methods of teaching.
Miss Weth considered it very necessary that the children should do their bit for the war effort, so under her guidance, they ‘dug for victory’, collected waste paper and donned their Scout and Guide uniforms for a number of jobs. Her enthusiasm carried them along, and it is to her credit that any personal feelings she might have had which related to pacifism were never conveyed to her pupils.
It was not until adult life that some children learned that Miss Weth had hidden other feelings and beliefs. Dymchurch School was a Church of England school, having the usual
connections with the local vicar. Her views clashed with those of the kindly, learned gentleman who was at that time in charge of the parish. Yet this would never have been apparent to the outsider. They held each other in high respect and were on the best of terms. Perhaps that is why Miss Weth’s Bible stories were some of her most enjoyable, and why the then-called Scripture lessons were something to which all looked forward.
Of course no child could be expected to pass an examination without having mastered something of English language and mathematics. Although the war was on, there were scholarships to local grammar and technical schools, even if in body they had been evacuated to some other part of the United Kingdom.
Most of the village children left school at 14, but it was Miss Weth’s mission to see that some made it to a place of learning for at least another two years.
Her round, soft-featured face would go as pink as those of her pupils as she struggled to instil into them rules of number or punctuation, while they remained utterly bewildered by the problems set out in the arithmetic
books which were finally delivered.
But despite the battles which went on in the classroom as battles went on in the skies of Kent, some did actually make it to further education.
Edith Weth was not one who chose to be a part of village life. There were those who were saddened because she did not join the groups of ladies who made jam with unusual war-time ingredients, or went to a whist drive. She said any teacher who had the energy to do anything else but teach wasn’t a good teacher, and she intended to be as good as she could for the children of the village.
When it came to retirement, it was not to East Anglia, where she had lived before coming to Kent (and the basis for a number of her stories) that she went to see out her days. Instead she chose a house on the outskirts of the village, where she was always happy to receive her old pupils.
Everyone knew that it was the education authority which had sent Miss E. T. Weth to Dymchurch to sort out the problem of the children. Although it might not have been her choice, the villagers knew she had never been unhappy about it being made for her.
Ruth Spencer
