Briefly stated, the board's intent was to replace the 'interior economy' of the institution, which had had a distinctly military character throughout its history. Nye was determined to bring school life into line with the leading English public schools [italics added] (private in North America) and to change its curriculum to conform to the education standards of the state. His point of view accepted, he took the matter up in public when the opposition refused to accept the board's decision as a fait accompli. In reply to an article on the subject published in the Royal United Service Institution Journal in July 1954, he wrote an uncompromising reply:

I have recently read an article in the [RUSI] Journal [May 1954] written by a Lieutenant-Colonel R. Evans of the Duke of York's Royal Military School from which it is evident that this officer, who purports to write with some authority, is unaware of the back ground of events in recent years . . . which affected a fundamental re-organization of the School.

I was at the School from 1905 to 1914 and it seems relevant to record my impressions of the School during that time because the action was which taken in recent years springs directly from my experiences.

The outstanding impression is that the School was organized on predominantly military lines. The people who really mattered were the Commandant, the Adjutant, the Regimental Sergeant-Major, the Bandmaster, the Drum-Major, the PT Instructor and the Company Sergeant-Majors of the various companies. Considerable time was devoted to drill, band and drum practice, physical training and such like military subjects, and the military atmosphere pervaded the School.

To anyone familiar with the present climate of thriftiness in the national treasury, a similar fate awaits both the Duke of York's and the Queen Victoria School. For all practical purposes, the Catering, Education and Medical corps are mere skeletons of what they were; various other support corps have gone the same way. The army has been downsized and continues to be reduced as the government withdraws troops from overseas stations. It has outsourced its catering, education and medical services. The pressure to reduce military costs is unrelenting. Those who would diminish the army to a token force are in the ascendant as they have been at various periods in the nation's history.

The staff of the Duke of York's school is virtually an all-civilian team. Only the RSM and Bursar (formerly the Adjutant) have military connections. Catering services are subcontracted, the school hospital has been converted to accommodate females students. What is more, the military schools are no longer the havens for the military families in need they once were. Indeed, the entire character of the institution has changed and one is left with the inescapable impression that the two remaining military schools have been transformed into elite institutions of education for the children of the armed services. In this respect they are no different from any public school whether it be Harrow, Eton, Merchant Taylors, and hundreds of boarding schools for those who can pay. It is to be noted that fifty years ago some ninety per cent of boys leaving the school entered the services. Today less than ten per cent choose a military career.

There are those both in and out of government who will reason that the military schools have indeed become elitist institutions of privilege in an egalitarian society and therefore have no compelling reason for a continued existence. Children of service men and women can be as easily educated in state schools and share the same health and welfare services provided for the population at large. Many voices will argue otherwise, but in the long run they will have no more influence than those in the military hierarchy of the day who opposed the Catholic Emancipation Act of 1829.

Evidence of the prevailing thriftiness - like the Sword of Damocles hanging over the school - is the sale of MOD properties throughout the realm. Disposal of the old RMA property at Chelsea is a good example. Another is the recent closing of Connaught Barracks, Dover, the premises of which abut the grounds of the School. Planning permission to convert Connaught Barracks to a open prison was turned down by the planning committee.

One reason for that decision could have been the close proximity of the barracks land to the school acreage. One can imagine some far-sighted mandarin of the Treasury contemplating a combined parcel of land (Connaught Barracks and the school property) as an attractive proposition available for commercial development; a quite feasible scheme if you think about it.

The conclusion is a dismal one, yet in the circumstances it is not without reason and, if the deduction can be reached by one it can be arrived at by many.