Teacher Profiles
Glyn Rees

Glyn was a legend and a master whose style was in such contrast to those of today. We all remember well his throwing prowess to which he alluded in that pre dinner speech just two years ago when at the age of 94 he entertained us so well with his reminiscences of the war years at Dr. Morgan's. For those of you who were not there, I will relate Glyn's tale as best I remember it.

The Americans had yet to enter the war but they were supplying us with tens of thousands of rounds of ammunition for our RAF pilots. Unfortunately the ammunition was the wrong size for the British machine guns and the cartridges had to be adjusted to fit. Glyn had the boys at the school working on the ammunition and took great pride in the fact that when those rounds were tested by firing them at floating targets in the channel just off the Steart coastline, not one round failed.

But the classic end to Glyn's story was that during this process he had to visit the store room. On his return, he noticed that one of the boys had clamped a machine gun cartridge in a vice and then, with a centre punch held in one hand poised over the cartridge, he held a ball paned hammer in the other ready to discharge the cartridge. Glyn had no time to consider how to react. Instinct took over and he grabbed the nearest article to hand, a wooden mallet. This he hurled at the boy with astounding accuracy and undoubtedly saved the boy's life!

Those of you present when Glyn related that story will recollect how the roof was almost raised as the entire gathering of masters and pupils responded to outbursts of laughter the like of which has yet to be bettered. Glyn paced himself well. As the laughter subsided, he seized the moment. With a huge knowing grin and that familiar twinkle in his eye, he concluded in his wonderful Welsh accent and with such clear diction so unexpected of one in his 94th year. "And you know, boys, that was the only time in my career that I ever threw anything at one of the boys!"

If it was at all possible, the second burst of laughter bettered the first. He sat down a happy man. That's how I shall remember him. He terrified us at school and we thought the world of him once we left.

From Dr Morgan's Association Newsletter (Thanks to Roger Evans)