Open Writing

Sunday 30th September 1951 I got a belated birthday present, not that Canon Donkers our parish priest was aware that he had given it to me.

He leaned over the pulpit and in his heavily accented English told us that we should all get along to the church hall on Friday night as they were going to start a Scout troop. I confess I have no idea what else he said as Dennis Brear (my best friend through all my school years) and I spent the rest of the service talking about it.

The following Friday 5th October 1951 I joined the 48th Bradford East (St Peter’s) Scout troop and my life changed.

Back when I was a lad Sunday was a day when you went to church and then sat around being quiet. No playing out on a Sunday. That is how life was back then.

A day of rest – shops did not open (except for the off licence up the road) and after lunch you did your homework or read a book. No TV either. If you did go out it was to visit a relative for tea.

The first few weeks were something of a blur when we were introduced to Scouting and the skills involved. We all joined in enthusiastically and as most of us went to the same school much of our playground activity was spent trying to hone our skills – bits of string were a must have in everyone’s pocket - so we could practice tying knots.

We all wanted the uniform, and after every meeting we went home and used “pester power” - just as kids do today – to persuade our parents to lay out the money.

Looking back it must not have been easy. Money was scarce and I have no doubt many sacrifices were made to ensure that we got one. You could not put it on the plastic then, you needed cash.

About six weeks after I joined my mother took me off to Carters in Bradford who were the stockist and the following Friday I was invested and awarded my Tenderfoot Badge.

To say I was proud of my uniform is an understatement. I spent many hours trying to ensure that hat – remember the big brims – stayed the same way as when I got it. Ironing the brim and piling things on it to ensure it remained flat. One or two went for the wavy look, and suffered the consequences on troop night.

Kevin Berry (Skip) who was our Scoutmaster would find some task for those who went for the personalised look. Uniform looked smart and was kept that way. What a pity that the same cannot be said of the modern uniform

Not long after I joined Scouts it was my confirmation – no little white suit for me, as when I made my first communion. I insisted on wearing my uniform. No angel like approach to the Bishop – later Cardinal Heenan - I marched – probably to the amusement of the congregation.

A few months after we started Skip and the rest of his team said they would take us on a hike. We all attended 8.00am mass and then onto a bus and made our way over to Crossflatts near Bingley. Then it was off to a place called Morton Tarn. Our introduction to the “great outdoors”.

We lived in a city. Yes there was greenery but we did not really notice that. Playing in the streets or on the local rec was what we did. This was a whole new world. Lighting fires, following trails and studying nature. Scouts claim to be the first environmentalists and it is true.

We all came home wet, muddy and hungry.

The following Friday at the end of the meeting we expected to hear we were off again. Nothing was said so when we were dismissed at the end of the meeting nobody moved. Skip looked at us and said well off you go home. Together we said what about Sunday? Are we going hiking?

And that is when the real adventure started. Almost every week after that we were off someplace – if we were not hiking we were camping or on a training weekend. Thackley Open Air School was a popular venue – days spent learning Scouting skills, and always on a Saturday night a wide game that seemed to go on for ever.

I could never get my head round Morse Code and opted for Semaphore. On one of those training weekends I came into my own. One of the exercises involved the instructions being given using Semaphore and I was the only one in our troop who knew it – felt a bit like a hero that time.

In 1953 we went to Guernsey for our summer camp. The manager of the coop in Guernsey was Skips brother in law and our visit had been publicised. Wherever we went we seemed to get special treatment. One night we went to the cinema and the local bus company laid on a bus for us. They used to finish at 7.00 pm in those days.

When we came back I spent a couple of days at home whilst my mother caught up with all my washing and then it was off for the rest of the school holidays to our local campsite whilst the warden a guy called Dusty Rhodes went on holiday.

Looking back now most weekends and holidays I was off somewhere with Scouts. I learnt the usual things that people associate with Scouts – putting up tents, lighting fires and tying knots. I also learnt to cook.

My pal Dennis and I worked out that on camp, if you volunteered to cook the first day, then you had an easy time. Everybody helped to put up the cook tent and then left you to it. We always made stew on the first night and that was easy.

Meanwhile everyone else was working away putting up tents and getting everything organised.

We did get it wrong once. We made a large stew and invited everyone for seconds. When we came to get ours there was none left and we finished up having to make do with jam and bread. It never happened again.

We learned the important lesson that we should have ours first.

Fast forward a few years and our youngest son joined Cubs. There was a problem with lack of leaders and along with other parents I started to help out when I could. Work is one of the problems that Scouting faces.

So many people seem to work long hours that it is difficult to find people who can spare the time.

After a few months of this my job changed and my hours became more regular. I decided to become a leader.

Scouting opened up a new world to me and I found the skills I learned as a boy had not gone away. For the next twenty years I worked with young people and enthused many in the same way that I was.

I took up canoeing as a bit of a joke when I was 49 – I accepted a challenge to do a long distance canoe race for my 50th birthday. From that I got into coaching people with all abilities and enjoyed myself.

Young people that I have worked with in Scouting have gone off round the world. The skills I and others taught them have developed so that they climb mountains, trek across continents and canoe rivers.

Scouting started them out on those great adventures – and that is their words to me when I see them grown into adults.