Rodney D'Ott was the ringleader, the troublemaker. And if the truth be known, Brian Lissette would have been co-conspirator.

The facts are emerging now – 60 years ago Rodney orchestrated a spontaneous and raucous rendition of Lonnie Donegan's ‘Rock Island line' in Mr Davies' 5T math class at Hastings High School while Brian's back was turned.

School friends Rodney D'ott and Brian Lissette. Photo: Tracy Hardy.

'I fooled you, I fooled you, I got pig iron, I got all pig iron,” as the song goes.

But they didn't fool Mr Davies, who confronted this uprising – this unruliness – with swift discipline.

He caned all the guys and strapped all the girls, for singing a song, a pop song, and not even a dirty ditty.

This was wholesale corporal punishment in a time when it was condoned and encouraged – stinging hands, tears and bum welts x 30. That was the price of insubordination in Mr Davies' math class.

'It was just a bit of mischief,” says the ringleader. 'A bit of fun.” With painful consequences.

Now Rodney, or ‘Rod' as he was in those days, is sitting here with his henchman Brian in Otumoetai reminiscing about that day of defiance in 1956.

It's a reunion of sorts. And there are a lot of lies and laughs to share because these brothers-in-arms haven't seen each other since perhaps 1958/59. As young men do, they drifted apart after high school, and pursued their own careers, lives and loves.

Then an observant Leone D'Ott, Rodney's wife, spotted Brian's picture in a serial WWII story in The Weekend Sun. 'Was Brian red-headed?” Oh yes. 'But he looked a bit older,” says Rod. Some 55 years older. ”But it was definitely him.”

So the Katikati retiree got on the phone.

Is that Brian? Yes. Did he go to Hastings High? Might have. Forever the suspicious old cop and giving nothing away. But here they are now and, as blokes do, they just pick up where they left off.

'The classroom outside 5T would be absolutely white with chalk dust,” recalls Rod.

A photograph of Rodney D'Ott, Brian Lissette and Cyril Hargreaves taken in 1958. Photo: Supplied.

This is a story about how the guys wowed the girls in the 1950s.

'We would snaffle a box of blackboard chalk and throw it at the fourth form girls next door when it was wet and raining and we couldn't go outside.”

It seemed to impress and excite a pretty young girl called Leone. 'I didn't think much of him when I first saw him.” But eight or nine years later they would marry.

And there's an upshot to the singing story.

'Next day we had a singing lesson but none of us sang,” says Brian.

It was a protest. 'That's right. We got strapped and caned for singing yesterday, why would we want to sing today?”

It was perceived as out-and-out defiance and met with the same hardline discipline. Back up to the teacher's study for another round of stinging hands and sore bums.

'It was a communal decision this time,” says the ringleader. 'Very democratic.” And painful. So did they harbour any ill-will or resentment from being thrashed?

'Absolutely not – it just meant another couple of notches on the belt,” says Brian. And they agree that the world is probably worse off for the abolition of corporal punishment.

So two guys who once-upon-a-time just enjoyed hanging out and getting into a bit of mischief have regrouped. Now they have new things in common – computers and photography to fiddle with and a lot of time to do it.

And there are still a lot more lies to be told.