Scott, Antony Baird Douglas (1922-1943)
Sherborne School, UK, Book of Remembrance for former pupils who died in the Second World War, 1939-1945.
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Credit: Sherborne School Archives, Abbey Road, Sherborne, Dorset, UK, DT9 3AP.
Details: Antony Baird Douglas Scott (1922-1943), born 3 July 1922, son of James Douglas Scott and Bridget Violet Scott, of Wisborough Green, Sussex, later of Gillhurst, Warninglid, Sussex.
Attended Maidwell House School, Northampton.
Attended Sherborne School (Abbey House) January 1937-April 1941; 6th form; School Prefect; Head of House; 1st XV rugby football (1940); 1st Class Gym; PT Instructor with Badge; Sergeant in JTC; member of Duffers.
WW2, Captain, 1st Battalion, 4th Prince of Wales's Own Gurkha Rifles. Killed in action in the Chin Hills, Burma, on 14 December 1943, aged 21.
Rangoon Memorial, Myanmar, Face 61 www.cwgc.org/find-war-dead/casualty/2524899/scott,-anthon...
Sherborne School: War Memorial Staircase; Book of Remembrance; Abbey House roll of honour.
Obituary, The Shirburnian, July 1944: ' "Hob" Scott was Head of his House and in the First Fifteen. He combined great strength of character with a most attractive personality and the same qualities which had given him a prominent position at Sherborne won him the affection of his Regiment and rapid promotion. He soon made his mark as an officer and his work in charge of transport earned him special praise. It was a task he loved and one in which his understanding of animals, always one of the great interests of his life, helped him much. He was killed on December 14th, 1943, leading his Company against a strongly entrenched Japanese position, and his Colonel writes that "he gave an outstanding example of bravery and leadership to his men." '
Essay by A.B.D. Scott about the bombing of Sherborne on 30 September 1940:
‘30th September 1940. On Monday afternoon I was rudely awoken from my study of the German language, for the fourth time that term, by the wail of the siren. We ceased our studies and proceeded leisurely down to the cloisters, the fire squads back to their houses, I too went back to the House [Abbey House], and sat by the window at the top of the stairs, after seeing the fire squad distributed round the House. There was one form sheltering in the passage which acted as the Air Raid shelter. I was sitting there when I heard the familiar drone of many approaching aircraft. I rushed to the other side of the House to obtain a better view, then back again after seeing nothing.
I was looking out of the window which faces the school entrance when I saw several members of the staff who were A.R.P. Wardens, and the school custos all point upwards and run for the shelter of the arch. I continued naturally to gaze out of the window when I saw the blast of the first explosion terrify a female pedestrian and her dog, I waited no longer, but rushed downstairs. Only to find the passage empty except for myself and one member of the fire squad who had rushed down with me. I then rushed to the end of the passage and found, greatly to my relief, the previous occupants of the passage firmly ensconsed [sic] under the table in the day room.
The remembrance of my next emotion is vague but I do remember making along that long passage with my hands over my head. I remember the door at the end of the passage bursting open, plaster coming down through the dust, doors clashing and always that ever nearing whistle – ‘bang’ the ‘bangs’ being so numerous that the whistle was usually drowned. Through all this inferno I heard a cat screaming from quite close at hand. I remember too trying to tell my fellow sufferer to put his hands above his head and lie down but the trouble seemed to be where in that long empty passage to lie. I kept thinking now is this our turn, what will it be like when one hits us. Then suddenly the world seemed at peace and I heard the Abbey bells strike some quarter, I forget which. That I think was the most comforting feeling I have ever experienced, to know that at least something was still standing outside.
I then collected the people from the dayroom all very white faced, and saw very little through the dust except for a column of black smoke ascending from the north end of the town. I remember quite clearly the surprise I got, when turning the corner through the arch, to see the bomb crater. I then wandered aimlessly from the House to the school gates.
The A.R.P. car bumped past over the stones and glass on their way to the assembly point, and not being able to go down via Cheap Street. One sight which I will never forget was that of the whole school coming out of the classrooms and walking over the bomb crater in the courts; no one seemed particularly concerned, and looked quite natural with their books under their arms. It vaguely surprised me to see no one being bandaged or hurt in any way because when I had first looked out I had seen water and bandages being taken across the courts.
I remember then setting a salvage squad to work, trying to put on a calm cheerfulness, but really still rather dazed and shaken.
That which strikes me most on looking back on that terrible day is that I had heard no noise raised either screaming or shouting during the whole bombardment, except for the screaming of the cast and the vague shriek of a far off maid in the House, and also of the extreme coolness of everyone, especially that of the Head master who I saw walking out of the shelter and the chapel, and inquiring whether there were an unexploded bombs near, a question which at the time struck me as a very cool and rather comforting remark. Any how it brought me back to my senses.’