It was with very great regret that we said goodbye to Mr. Cherry at the end of the Summer Term.

Mr. Cherry, known to his friends and colleagues as "Bob" (I wonder how many of our readers can guess why?), first came to Drayton Manor in 1936 and during his long service there became the symbol of the sporting life of the school. Many generations of schoolboys (and latterly schoolgirls) will remember his feats in the various Staff matches during the last four decades. It is, therefore, only fitting that he should have scored in his last appearance for the Staff against the School in the annual hockey match.

Hockey was not, of course, the only game in which Mr. Cherry excelled; the variety of his skills was impressive. He seemed to be able to play well any game which he took up, but I believe that his first love was for cricket, which is only to be expected from a Yorkshireman.

I shall never forget an incident which occurred about a quarter of a century ago during the Staff versus School cricket match. The School had batted first and had made a goodly score. The Staff's opening batsmen made a respectable reply but suddenly wickets began to fall to the School's redoubtable fast bowler -a tall youth with a formidable run-up and a truly ferocious speed off the bumpy, uneven pitch. Mr. Cherry was still batting and was joined by the last man with four runs still needed for victory. Fortunately it was the end of the over and the "rabbit" did not have to face the bowling. Once again the long approach-run, the flailing arms and then the ball hurtled towards Mr. Cherry but with a sharp crack, its direction was suddenly reversed and it soared above the bowler's head for a magnificently driven straight six.

I have another memory - of a very dark October night in 1940. Several hundred boys and girls from Drayton Manor accompanied by a number of staff, including Mr. Cherry and myself, stood upon Torquay railway station. The school had been evacuated to this Devonshire resort to escape the bombs of the London "Blitz". Gradually the pupils were claimed by their hosts, but alas, no-one claimed Mr. Cherry or me. There we stood, desolate and downcast, when suddenly from the gloom a figure approached with the "sad" news that the only place for us to spend the next week was a pub!

Mr. Cherry has a slightly different and more humorous version of this incident, but then he is a born raconteur with an inexhaustible supply of stories to delight and edify his colleagues, although it must be admitted that the introduction of a mixed staff-room curtailed his repertoire to a certain extent.

We shall all miss his warm, human personality which did so much to enliven and enrich the dull routine of the passing days, and I know that all readers of Phoenix will want to join me in wishing him and his wife, Beryl, a long and happy retirement.

F. R. J. R.