The other evening I watched an entertaining programme on TV all about the Boy Scout movement, for this year sees the centenary of it’s founding by Sir Robert Baden-Powell.

I was never a ‘cub’ or a ‘scout’ because even as a kid I was not much of a ‘joiner’ and I’m certain that I would have been embarassed by all that “dibbing”, “dobbing” and “ging gang goolieing”. I expect that my uniform would have been the only one in the troop without a single badge and I am sure that I would have lost my ‘woggle’ on day one.

However I was persueded by my best friend Derek to become a ‘Life Boy’, as his big brother Bernard was some sort of officer in what was then the junior section of the ‘Boys’ Brigade’. I can remember that Bernard used to strut down the street wearing his ‘Glengarry’ and carrying his stick under his arm in a very military manner, to the great amusement of all the neighbours.

The rest of us Life Boys were not quite so smart as our uniforms consisted of a sailor hat and a badge which was pinned to a navy blue jumper, the style, colour and quality of which depended on what your parents could provide as wartime clothes rationing was still in force at that time. Perhaps that’s why I’m not wearing any socks in the photograph on the left.

My career as one of this ‘band of brothers’ did not last long as I hated doing ‘physical jerks’ and forming ‘human pyramids’ in a cold and draughty school hall while being dressed only in my ‘underwear’. Even more I disliked getting smacked in the mouth in a ‘character building’ exercise known a ‘blindfold boxing’. This activity involved two boys wearing boxing gloves being blindfolded before beating the shit out of each other. I also let my fledgling atheistic tendancies show by going ‘AWOL’ from church parades and skipping the Sunday school at the local ‘mission’ hall. I guess that I was not as “STEADFAST” as I was supposed to be.

My only other experience of a childhood group activety was when I had dreams of becoming a musician and enrolled as a member of the ‘Brixton Boys’ Silver Band’. I did try to learn to read music, but about the only thing I could ever play on my cornet was the National Anthem. I tended to ‘mime’ everything else. In the end I decided to hand over my instrument to a boy who, unlike me, was not tone-deaf.   

My wife was a ‘Brownie’ (right) and my daughter joined the ‘Girl Guides’. She looked very smart in her uniform, but alas, I regret to report that she followed in her father’s footsteps …

…   and became a deserter at an early age.