The first at school physical I recall is well etched in my memory. I was in the 4th grade, about 10 years old. The air was brisk and we came to school with coats and hats, I would guess it was late October. Of course I'd already had solo exams with my family pediatrician by this point. Seemingly out of the blue one morning it was announced that a physician was set up in the school nurse's office to give each class member a physical. It was noted that the physical was being extended free of charge, so we should be grateful for the service. I have no idea if our parents had been notified of this exam. The whole class was subject to a the exam, so I don't see how it was justified from an athletics standpoint.
The boys and girls were lined up and escorted as seperate groups into the hallway to await our exams. As I waited in line with the other boys there was the normal tomfoolery between 10 year old boys as the nuns patrolled the hall to ensure that our nonsense didn't erupt into horseplay.
Each boy went into the office, one by one, with the door closed behind him. As I got close to the front of the line I recall the anticipation building as I watched my classmates disappear into the office, replacing the preceding boy that was ushered quickly back to the classroom.
I entered the dimly lit office when it was my turn. I was familiar with the nurse's office, but it seemed different that day. The overhead lights were not illuminated as the normally would have been. Sunlight was evident around the edges of the drawn window blinds. Two relatively bright lights were set up in the center of the office. On a stool in front of the lights sat a small Filipino man in a white lab coat. He motioned to me to approach him.
I vaguely remember the start of the physical as a quick rudimentary exam; viewing the inside of the mouth with a pen light and tongue depressor, chest and back auscultated with a stethoscope being told to breath deeply. Nothing out of the ordinary.
I was surprised at hearing the instruction to "unfasten and drop your pants." I did as I was told, my unfastened pants fell about my ankles with the weight of my belt in the loops. I left my tighty-whiteys in place. The doctor, who did not rise once from the stool, spun back around to face me after setting his stethoscope aside. It felt peculiar standing there and having this authoritative and rather terse man seated in front of me with his head at about the level of my chest.
It was more peculiar when he hooked his forefingers into the waistband of undershorts at my hips and pulled them quickly down to my knees. He firmly grasped my circumcised penis with his thumb and forefinger and lifted it until the back of his hand brushed my belly, then returned it to its original position.
He pushed several fingers up into the folds at the top of my scrotum and told me to "turn your head and cough". I did as I was told. "Harder cough!" he said sounding a bit annoyed. I coughed harder as he pressed deeper. He repeated the exam on the other side of my scrotum/groin. He then cupped my testicles and lifted them gently two or three times. He let them dangle a moment then cupped and lifted them again. I've always had low hangers and I wondered if that is why he gave them a second bounce.
He turned to reach for his light and stethoscope and said "tell the next boy to come in." I took this as my cue to hike up my underwear and reach down and gather up my trousers and quickly did so.
I didn't think all that much of the exam, but apparently some classmates thought it a bigger deal. On the playground at recess one girl described a similar process from the same doctor while her sidekick nodded in agreement. She was a rather conservative seeming classmate, so I was surprised to hear her graphic reenactment. She said it was so embarrassing for her. She recounted her exam in deliciously vivid detail for three of us boys. I hung on every word. I couldn't help but picture her, panties at her knees, being examined. That got me excited, even more so than experiencing my own exam.