In 1955 I went to Leeds School Camp at Langbar, Ilkley, along with my brother Tim and several other lads and lasses from Whingate School, Armley. We gathered together at Infirmary St. and were transported to Ilkley in single deck buses with our Kit bags. On arrival, together with children from other schools, boys and girls were seperated and the lads were divided between two huts, Nessfield & Denton (two local village names) Tim & I were in Nessfield. We were allocated a bunk each, which we had to make up every morning for inspection. Sheets and blankets folded and arranged in a particular order. At mealtimes we ate in the Dining Hall. Each boy had his own place, about 10 lads to a table. Each table had a name, e.g. Peewit, Curlew. There were 2 rows of tables and the lads sat on the end of the table to the center of the hall, were called blue-eyed boys. Their job was to bring the food and collect and. take away the plates. We had porridge for breakfast and cocoa for supper I remember. After breakfast each table had a chore for the morning (washing up, peeling potatoes etc.) We walked to Beamsley Beacon, Bolton Abbey and the Valley of Desolation. Whenever we walked on the roads, we would walk in single file, facing the traffic such as it was and when the occasional car came along, the cry would go up along the line "Petrol."
At the end of our billet was a room where one of the teachers slept. Our teacher was a Mr. Dixon, quite a nice, friendly chap. The two who seemed to be in charge were a Mr. Sharp and a Mr Hunter, the latter being a very strict disciplinarian.
We had morning parades and kit and bedding inspection. Talking in line was punishable with a whack on the backside and shoddy blanket and kit arrangement could result in the whole lot being pulled from the bed onto the floor.
We played Shinty, a form of Hockey and Stoolball, rather like rounders or baseball, with a bat , like a sturdy table tennis bat, with a square board (app 12") attached to a post, as a wicket.
I remember a group of four or five of the rather wimpy lads outside the huts complaining about the food and the regimentation of the camp and as I recall one or two went home with their parents when they were allowed to visit midweek. My brother and I loved it and I am proud even now of the fact that I was able to enjoy that experience.
Now 72, I've climbed Beamsley and visited the Valley of Desolation many times since, taking my own children with me. Last week I climbed the beacon from Bolton Bridge with my brother Tim who's 74 and we were able to jog each other's memories of events of that unforgettable week in 1955. Tim and I didn't receive a 'League of Mountain Men' certificate but our elder brother Bill, who attended in 1953 & 1954 received one both times.