They're a bunch of tittering, excitable schoolgirls – giggly and gossipy and talking over the top of each other.

They're the class of 1945 at Tauranga Primary School. And on Wednesday, some 70 years on, class was in again – and it's been ‘in' the same time each year for the last four years.

School's in – the class of 1945 at Tauranga Primary School. Photo: Tracy Hardy.

This hardcore gaggle of 18 from Miss Taylor's Primer One gathered at a local restaurant to swap anecdotes and memories and pore over stills of the time.

But they were tippling sauvignon blanc instead of half-pints of milk on the turn. No more chalkboards, gingham skirts and cardies - just wonderful memories.

It seems nothing has changed for these women. Okay – there are some age lines, lots of spectacles, they party at lunchtime now and grey bobs are part of the uniform. But they still know how to have a good time.

'We all kept in touch through primary school and college and there was the odd birthday card and email,” says Margaret McClymont. 'And when I suggested we do a small class lunch every year they were thrilled.”

But not a man in sight – surely there were boys in the class of 1945? They might have been smelly and horrible then, but now? Isn't this sexist and exclusive?

'Well the girls decided to stick to girls because girls have more fun,” explains Margaret.

That's half the reason.

'The boys are now either bald, boring or dead… or all three. That's more to the point,” says Anne McGuinn, who flew in from Sydney for a 'yack” and 'a bite” with very dear old friends.

Anne's the extroverted one apparently. 'Not really a show-off but she stands out,” I was told. 'But she's lovely” is the quick qualification. We don't want Anne coming all this way to be offended.

The years have scattered the class of 1945 from Tauranga to Rotorua, Hamilton, Auckland and beyond. Some are still missing, uncontactable.

But Margaret sifts through census and electoral rolls and each year throws up a couple of pleasant new surprises.

Has anyone in the Class of 1945 achieved fame? Perhaps notoriety?

Well Yvonne Sanders runs a flash antique dealership in Epsom in ‘Jafaland' and is about to publish an equally flash book.

It doesn't look like something you'd thumb through on the pillow though. Dulcie Artus is a local artist of some renown. Just a name like Dulcie Artus would be enough to make you famous.

And Margaret plays the Wurlitzer at Baycourt. But no notoriety you will note. Well, not that they would tell you because they're too nice.

But everyone today is keen to tell this reporter about someone called ‘Spring Heal Jack'.

He was apparently an evil-smelling old man in an oil skin with an odd gait. He was a clever man though, a biologist but with 'issues”.

The class of 1945 in mischievous moments would bait this old man into swearing.

'We heard words we certainly never heard at home. It was great fun,” says Anne Stead.

I suspect Anne would have been one of the naughty, cheeky ones in Primer One.

I bet Miss Taylor had problems with that one. However, Anne says one day ‘Spring Heel' did threaten to set his dog Angus 'on those young b******s”.

She tries to mask her obvious delight… was it the story or the swear word?

Margaret, the ring mistress, admits to being a sensitive creative type, a musician, and she's on the brink of tears when she tells the story of being knocked down by a college student on his bike.

Her faced was badly grazed and bloodied and she was home recuperating when Miss Taylor, 'that lovely, plump and prissy teacher” called by with a little pink vase with violets from her garden.

'I still have the vase. Isn't that lovely?” There's a lot of ‘lovely' today.

But even in 1945, girls would be girls. 'There were lots of petty quarrels,” says Margaret, 'a lot of ‘I am better than you' sort of thing. Girls can be quite catty and I am sure that hasn't changed.”

But no-one was doing 'bitchy” or 'catty” on Wednesday – it wasn't the place nor time and they're not those sort of girls.

And while they insisted men wouldn't have any place at a 'do like this because they wouldn't enjoy it” this reporter did.

I enjoyed them, their stories and I enjoyed watching a lot of gracious, dignified and ageing women re-enjoying their schooldays. It was lovely.

And they don't get sick of the same old stories. 'We never run out of things to say,” says Anne. 'And if we do run out, we make it up.”

Reunions need people like Anne. The class of 1945 will back making things up next year. I'd like an invite.