I had one teacher I'll always remember for grade 8 (Form II for you Kiwis). George MacKinlay. He was ex-army, had a kilt, which he wore on occasions and was brought out of retirement to replace the teacher we had about 3 months into the year.
I remember him walking in our clasroom and he spotted me down the back with my hearing aid on. He grabbed me by the collar, marched me down the front of the class and kicked one of the kids off his desk and said "This is your desk now, I don't want you sitting anywhere else"....
"Sit Down"
....gulp..... I did so, very quickly.....
In a stern voice, pointing a finger at me, looking me right in the eyes...
"If you do not hear or understand ANYthing I say, put your hand up and tell me immediately....and I will repeat it or clear it up. Got it?"
.....errr....."Yessir"....
"Good"
He was true to his word. A tough man, but a very just one. I had enormous respect for him and he taught me well. So well, in fact, with the improvement in my grades I went into the top academic classes for the next 3 years before other issues brought about my decline.
Mum was so rapt, she bought him a big bottle of Scotch for Xmas. I always remember him fondly and with great respect.