Mr Unwin. Head teacher at Glaisdale Secondary School.
Canings were public at assembly. He made you bend down at one end of the stage, and then ran in like a fast bowler from the other end, and wallop! I suffered this experience several times. After a while, knowing it was coming, I would sneak down to the gym and raid the lockers for as many pairs of PE shorts that I could find to pad out my posterior.
During the summer holidays a group of us hatched a plan. Unwin lived in a quiet road in Wollaton. Picture one of those silent summer nights without a breath of wind.... One of the lads (who had a deep mature voice) made a phone call to a local undertaker.... 2am.
"My father died yesterday, and he is laid out at home. Mum thought it would be nice for him to rest one last night in the house, but she is having second thoughts and is getting quite upset. Can you come round to collect him please?"
We hid in the bushes beside Unwin's driveway and waited. After a little while a hearse pulled up, complete with three gentlemen in top hats and long black coats... One of them approached the front door and rapped the knocker, loud enough to wake some of the neighbours! A light came on in the front bedroom.... then the landing and then the hall.... Eventually Unwin opened the door, and the sombre gentleman announced in a loud, very slow and very sombre voice.... "We've ... come... for.... Mr.... Unwin".
Payback time :-)