This article was first published in the West Sussex Gazette on 14th September 2000.

Mrs June Stone (nee Broadbridge) sent in the following reminiscences of her schooldays:-

'I lived in Portslade, but in 1936 the infant school there was so overcrowded that Portslade five year olds were required to start school at Knoll Infants, just over the border in Hove. My mother took me to that school just before Easter 1936, hoping to enrol me for the summer term, as I would be five in June. She was told that as I was not yet five, I could not be admitted until September. I was so upset that I cried all the way home. The situation was not improved when we met one of my mother's friends, who, thinking I was crying because I did not want to go to school, lent down to me and said that it would be lovely and that there would be lots of children to play with.

September came, and I spent a very happy time at Knoll Infants, with my first teacher, Mrs. Palmer. The headmistress was Miss Lelliott. We had to call her governess.

Celebrations for the coronation of King George Vl and Queen Elizabeth in 1937 included playground games and maypole dancing. Each child received a tin of toffees, decorated with pictures of the king, queen and princesses. Girls received a crown brooch, inset with red, white and blue stones. I think the boys received a tiepin.

By September 1937, the situation in Portslade had eased and Portslade children were transferred to the infant school there. The school was housed temporarily in the vacant building of Windlesham House School, which was situation on the hill to the west of Portslade Old Village. The headmistress was Mrs. Houchin and one of my teachers there; Miss Lewis died not long ago aged 104.

My move to 'big school', St Nicolas C. Of E. Junior School, Portslade coincided with the Munich crisis, the fitting of gas masks and the building of air raid shelters in the school playground. I remember my mother coming up to my bedroom, having heard the news bulletin after Mr. Chamberlain's return from Munich, and saying 'It's peace'. (N.B. St Nicolas is spelt without an H in this instance, which is most unusual.)
For my first year at St. Nicolas, the headmistress was Miss Hunt. My class teacher was Miss Patching, a gentle lady who delighted us on Friday afternoons by reading stories of Brer Rabbit. In that class, I sat next to Roy Westbrook. Years later we met again when Roy was a member of the school governing body and I was on the teaching staff.

Next door to the school, in a building then called Loxdale, was a home for boys from London, who attended school in their smart grey shorts and jerseys.

School uniform was very limited. Girls could wear a red beret and boys a dark cap with red rings, each bearing a school badge.

From September 1939, the school buildings were shared with a school which had been evacuated from London. Each school used the classrooms for half a day, alternating morning and afternoon sessions. When it was not our turn to use the school, we were taken on nature walks, or had organised activities, weather permitting, in nearby Victoria Recreation Ground.

Then the Rothbury Hall, and a church hall, both in Franklin Road, Portslade, were made available for our use and purposeful school work could be undertaken on the half days when we were not in the school.
One memory from late 1939 stands out in my mind. Now that I was a junior I went to school on my own, as did most of my contemporaries. After lunch I used to call for a friend and one day the one o'clock news was on when I called. My friend had a pronounced lisp, and she looked up from her plate of suet pudding and treacle, and said, 'Graf Thpee's thunk' (Graf Spee's sunk).

During the very severe weather in the early months of 1940, the school had to be closed for a while as the outdoor toilets and the tank in the roof which supplied the heating system, froze solid.

In 1940 Mr. Figgins replaced Miss Hunt as head teacher. As the year progressed, air raid drill was abandoned as the real thing was occurring all too frequently. Overnight on June 30th/July 1st two bombs fell on the edge of the golf course at the bottom of the road where I lived. Fortunately chickens in a nearby garden were the only casualties.

In September several high explosive bombs and numerous incendiaries fell in the area around my home. Two houses at the top of my road were destroyed, and we had to leave our home in the early hours of the morning as delayed-action bombs had fallen in the vicinity.

Air raid warnings were sounded daily throughout the autumn of 1940, and there were often three or four visits to the air raid shelters in a day. As we lived on the coast, enemy aircraft were sometimes overhead before the siren sounded, and in addition to the general safety rules for getting ourselves to and from school, we had to learn what to do in the event of an air raid. What worried me more than the air raids was the fact that my route to school passed Jubilee Field. At certain times of the year this field was occupied by a herd of frisky bullocks, which frequently came too close for my liking to the very flimsy fence.

Visits to the air raid shelters soon ceased to be a novelty, and, as autumn progressed they became increasingly cold and damp places in which to sit. As a result of that enforced confinement, most of us knew our multiplication tables well, and were able to sing most of the traditional hymns and folk songs without the use of books. Little written work could be done in the shelters, so much of our time was occupied with this oral learning.

Early in 1941, at the time of the invasion scare, the London evacuees left the area and some Portslade children were evacuated to Yorkshire. I did not go with the school group but my brother and I went to stay with relatives inland, until the autumn.

It was surprising how quickly we became used to carrying our gas masks everywhere with us, and to going without things like days on the beach, rambles on the Downs, fireworks on Bonfire Night and bright Christmas lights.

When I was a child I was able to do very good handwriting, and after we had had a fund-raising event for Aid to Russia in 1942, I had to write a letter to Mr. Maisky the Russian ambassador, to tell him what we had done.

My handwriting skills were also called upon when the father of one of my classmates, Pamela Parker, received a gallantry award in a naval action. Robert Collins, a classmate gifted at art, was asked to design and paint a card depicting a battle ship and I wrote the message of congratulation.
In March 1942 I sat what was then known as the scholarship examination, and I was fortunate enough to be awarded a free place at Hove County School for Girls.

I started at Hove County in September 1942, and took my School Certificate in 1949.
For my first three years at the school, the war continued. On one occasion, when we were in an upstairs classroom, the teacher, hearing aircraft, glanced out of the window and saw a stick of bombs falling. Very calmly she said, 'Girls, get under your desks', before disappearing under her own.
At the beginning of each term, each girl took a small amount of money to school for Social Service. This was a reserve of money from which the school could send a donation in the event of a disaster - the Easington Colliery disaster comes to mind.

In addition each form undertook a type of practical service for which they raised their own funds, and which they chose themselves. Some forms adopted families from the East End Mission, others supported wards in hospitals or helped with local children's homes and some supported groups for the disabled.
After the war, many girls knitted clothes for German children, a cause taken up enthusiastically as one of the school staff had gone out there to work. A French school in Douai, which had been destroyed, was adopted by the school, which raised funds to provide each child with a pencil box, pencils and mathematical instruments.

In 1946 a group of girls from Paris, whose parents had been active in the French Resistance, was brought over to spend three months staying with Hove County pupils and attending the school.
As the autumn term began in 1948 those of us who were entering the Upper V1 turned our minds to 1949, when we should be leaving school, and to the type of training that we wished to take up. I had long since decided that I wanted to be a junior school teacher and I applied for a place at Bishop Otter College, Chichester. I was interviewed in November and on 1st March 1949 I heard that, providing I passed Higher School Certificate, I had a place at the college. I took Higher School Certificate that summer and on August 24th I heard that I had passed. The next stage in my life was about to begin.'