Lol, in the late 1960s and early to mid 1970s, we had a bizarre 'Holiday Reader' scheme at our secondary school, whereby we were supposed to read a prescribed novel in our summer holiday, then write an essay about it on our first day back in September. Usually I read the book, but on one occasion I didn't bother (it was some sort of Sherlock Holmes compendium, as I recall), but wrote an essay on it anyway.
A few years later, when I was 16 and about to enter the 6th Form, the holiday reader was Solzhenitsyn's 'One Day In The Life of Ivan Denisovitch'. I couldn't be bothered to read it, but on the first day back at school, I discovered that our English teacher was to be Mr Johnson, a fearsome Headmaster of the old-school and not one to be crossed. In a blind panic I then read the Solzhenitsyn novel in about two days, before our first English lesson, only to find that he didn't even mention it, and we never had to write an essay on it....
Did you have any 'fearsome' teachers at your school?
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On a mountain range
I'm Doctor Strange