Stephen Hawking Read Online Free Page B

Pryke, commander of the CCF. If he did not manage to persuade the dissenter to join, the next line of attack was the sub-dean, Canon Feaver, a formidable gentleman who would subject the boy to a lecture on his moral duty to serve God and the Queen, to play his role in the greater scheme of things. If that were endured, the final test would be to face the headmaster, William Thomas Marsh.
    Marsh was one of St. Albans’s most severe but successful headmasters. He has been described by more than one of Hawking’s contemporaries as “absolutely terrifying”; to crosshim was an act of extreme foolishness. If the headmaster failed to convert a conscientious objector, then he must possess tremendous conviction and determination. However, that was only the beginning of the ordeal. Those who did not take part in the CCF were made to dress in fatigues along with everyone else and, instead of playing at soldiers, were forced to dig a Greek theater in the school grounds. Marsh was a dedicated Classicist, and he viewed this treatment as fitting ritualistic humiliation. The construction of the Greek theater continued, rain or shine, for as long as it took. As the work progressed, Marsh stalked its perimeter in fair weather or surveyed the site from the comfort of a warm room when it was raining or snowing.

    Life at school was not always bleak. The whole class often went on school trips to places of academic interest. It was usually the CCF commander, Colonel Pryke, who was given the responsibility of taking what he referred to as “a scruffy band of young men” to such places as chemical plants, power stations, and museums. He remembers with fondness the occasion when he took Hawking’s class to the ICI chemical plant at Billingham in the north of England. Everything seemed to be going well until just after lunch, when one of the scientists who had been showing them around cornered Pryke and asked angrily, “Who the hell have you got here? They’re asking me all sorts of bloody awkward questions I can’t answer!”
    By the time he was fourteen, Stephen knew that he wanted to make a career out of studying mathematics, and it wasaround this time that his scientific aptitude began to show. He would spend very little time on mathematics homework and still obtain full marks. As a contemporary recalled, “He had incredible, instinctive insight. While I would be worrying away at a complicated mathematical solution to a problem, he just knew the answer —he didn’t have to think about it.” 4 The “average” bright kid was beginning to reveal a prodigious talent.
    One particular example of Stephen’s highly developed insight left a lasting impression on John McClenahan. During a sixth-form physics lesson, the teacher posed the question, “If you have a cup of tea, and you want it with milk and it’s far too hot, does it get to a drinkable temperature quicker if you put the milk in as you pour the tea, or should you allow the tea to cool down before adding the milk?” While his contemporaries were struggling with a muddle of concepts to argue the point, Stephen went straight to the heart of the matter and almost instantly announced the correct answer: “Ah! Milk in first, of course,” and then went on to give a thorough explanation of his reasoning: because a hot liquid cools more quickly than a cool one, it pays to put the milk in first, so that the liquid cools more slowly.
    He sailed through his Ordinary Level exams, obtaining nine in July 1957 and his tenth, in Latin, a year later, midway through his Advanced Levels. When he sat down to decide on his A Level subjects, parental pressure began to play a part in his plans. He wanted to do mathematics, physics, and further mathematics in preparation for a university course in physics or mathematics. However, Frank Hawking had other plans. He wanted his son to follow him into a career in medicine,for which