School prefects were also allowed to cane, and after prayers in the morning the Head Prefect (Knowles, when I arrived, then Bell) would go to the front of the stage and read a list of who he wanted to see in his study...  Then there were the boarding-house prefects, some of whom had not the maturity to be made school prefects and used their power to cane their juniors with avidity. 

By the time the group photo was taken, all the front row but one, which comprised the young inhabitants of the East Dorm, had been given 4 strokes in their pyjamas for making a noise after lights out.  Virtually any offence was a caning offence.  The lesser punishment was to be made to 'do two sides' - write an essay on a given subject, usually a difficult one, like 'The Inside of a Table-tennis Ball'.  Usually these were torn up and binned when the prefect saw that you had filled the appropriate space, but I used to quite enjoy the challenge and produced some pieces amusing enough to be read aloud to the other prefects whilst I stood waiting.  In English we were given no creative writing exercises except in the end-of-year exams.  All our time was spent on clause analysis and parsing.  I honestly can't remember being taught by a specialist English teacher, and suspect that Badger Brock might have been doing it in addition to French.  Badger only taught French to the lower school, but he was strict, methodical and one of the few masters who knew what he was going to do before he entered the room.  Lesson plans were unknown.  Badger had made his own beating instrument, a kind of miniature cricket bat which was labelled 'The Persuader'  I still remember that wheedling Welsh voice when he announced: "I'm going to have a little row with you, Rowlett...."and opened his desk drawer, where the Persuader was kept.

I remember Bill Butters mainly for his absence.  He'd had a severe stroke and should never have been asked to teach. He made a few appearances in my first year but his speech was incomprehensible and of course, 11-year-olds having no understanding or pity, he was ragged.

I saw no mention of the Rev Charlie Scott.  This man was certifiably mad.  I don't know how he ended up at Dunstable teaching (if that's the right word) Divinity and Music.  I think he might have lived for a time at Ashton Lodge, with Matthewman and Cadle, for he usually came to breakfast where he read a book propped on a sauce bottle.  He habitually dripped porridge on his cassock, which he always wore, and this built up over the week.  He made no attempt to teach anything.  He would play selections from Gilbert and Sullivan with his own words: "My object most sublime, which I hope to achieve in time, is to make the punishment fit the crime...to make each victim bend..."  Charlie would commence each music lesson by asking if anyone had a birthdaythat week.  If they admitted it, he would give them one stroke of the cane for each year of their age  If no-one had a birthday he'd pick a boy at random, saying he was looking happy so it must be his birthday.  In Divinity he'd walk in (usually late) and ask us if we had anything useful to do, or he'd simply clown about.  I think he based his teaching style on Will Hay.  The end-of year exam for Divinity invariably contained the question: 'Who killed his brother and what's good for boys?'

Other masters who don't appear on your website include Teddy Towell, PE, who was I believe a rugby international, as was his predecessor, whose name I can't recall.  A Geography master named Houghton replaced Mr Butters eventually.  You do mention 'Dot' Taylor, who taught Art part-time, the only female member of staff in my time.  Her son, 'Potts' Taylor, who was a very talented scientist, was a boarder and is shown on the photo. 

After I left Dunstable I drifted from one job to another.  I joined the 6th (Boys) Training Regiment of the Royal Signals in 1954 but got a medical discharge in 1956. 

An odd coincidence is that two Dunstable boarders, both older than me, had left school at 15 and joined the same regiment independently.  They were Glasgow and P.E.O'Connor.  Only Glasgow is in the photo, as O'Connor started as a day-boy. 

In the early 1960's I took and passed ( in one year, via a correspondence course) enough 'O' and 'A 'levels to get into a Teachers' Training college.  I did quite well there, and soon went on to teach in grammar schools, including Sir William Turner's, Redcar, a boys' school with a small percentage of boarders.  Eventually I had to retire early for health reasons (chronic asthma) when I was head of English in a Northamptonshire comprehensive.

I don't think you've made mention of two famous Old Boys.  One was Gary Cooper, who boarded when his father was working in the UK (Cooper refers to his time at Dunstable School in his autobiography) and the first (I think) Prime Minister of Pakistan, whose name was Nazimuddin (but don't rely on my spelling...)  During a state visit to London he called in to address the assembled school and I remember this occasion.  

I'm now living in rural Suffolk, my asthma under control.  I still teach, but it's to adults, and it's Contract Bridge, which keeps me off the streets and out of mischief

Peter Rowlett