Guiding Memories | REMINISCENCES

REMINISCENCES

The following anecdotes appeared in a little booklet produced by the Girl Guides Association of Rhodesia, in 1974. Most of the anecdotes refer to incidents that occurred in Britain, for there was a large influx of British immigrants to Rhodesia after the Second World War. But some are peculiarly African, while most could have occurred anywhere in the world !

If by reading these your memory is jogged, we would be delighted to add your anecdote to this WebSite under "Your stories". Just click here.

REMINISCENCES

Author (Alphabetical order) & Title Page No. in booklet

[Page numbers are a bit meanigngless here!]

Click here to start reading.

A more recent collection of anecdotes is here.

There is a Remindery of stories about Olave B-P.

There are collections of stories by and about
Betty Clay, the B-P's younger daughter.

YOUR contributions about Guiding are invitied

CLick here to send them.

The contributins below are in page number sequence; they are identical to the separate pages that can be accessed by clicking on the name in the Contents List above. These are included below so that you can do a search for a specific word or phrase.

REMINDERS OF GUIDING DAYS
By those who treasure their memories.

FOREWORD

We hope this little book will bring much pleasure to those who read it; certainly the stirrings of memory caused by the writing have amused those who have recorded them.

Perhaps, in the reading, you may think, "That reminds me of the time when...." If so, put pen to paper and let us have your memories. In doing so, you will share an essential part of the riches of Guiding with those who come after. If sufficient contributions result, we will with pleasure consider the compilation of Book II.

Jane Weeks
Chief Commissioner.
July, 1974.

P.S. by WebMaster

Now, nearly 50 years after this was compiled,
you don't even have to find pen and paper !
To add your contribution, just click here.

MRS. M. MOSTERT - HALF A CENTURY

Do you remember your first Guide uniform? Over fifty years ago in a cold climate, ours were made of a coarse navy-blue serge, worn calf-length, with thrifty deep hems, and I can still feel how the material scratched at the neck, until washing and wear eventually removed the 'hair-shirt' qualities. The cost was seven and sixpence, and as we were expected to make the uniforms ourselves, at least in part, you can imagine our struggles with box-pleated patch pockets that refused to stay flat, and the battle with ten buttonholes on the fraying material. I'm afraid my left breast pocket lid had an embarrassing upward tilt like a permanently raised eye-brow, which to my relief became less noticeable once P.L's. stripes went underneath.

Nevertheless, topped by flat navy felt hats with the prominent G.G. in front, wearing black woollen stockings, stout lace-up shoes and shiny brown guide belts with jingling attachments, we were the happiest bunch of thirteen-year-olds in the whole wide world. With what enthusiasm and determination did we proceed to plaster our arms with badges! Learning (all unaware at the time) many a salutary lesson in the process, for ours was a day and age that set academic training above all else, and we needed badly the balance that comes with perseverance in learning domestic skills and application to all types of service to the community.

Fun-packed camps figure prominently in our memories, of course. Scottish drizzle we took for granted, but that made frequent retreats to frolics in some farmer's sweet-smelling hay barn all the more enjoyable. One record sunny camp stands out above the others:- White tents on a peaceful green meadow sloping down to a crystal clear stream, fringed with adrift of bright blue forget-me-nots, and backed by feathery larch trees, - fire smoke in a straight column upwards and laughter round it to the sizzle of pancakes for a hungry horde6

How fortunate we were in the early days to have an accomplished musician as our Guide Captain! She introduced us - and incidentally our whole County - to a wealth of national and folk music, and the joys of participation and expression in annual Choral Festivals, adjudicated for four years running by no less an expert than Dr. Ralph Vaughan William: himself. The final concerts under his baton were thrilling and unforgettable experiences, and kept us singing on every possible occasion. In fact, I can hardly recall a Guide or Ranger meeting without a song on the programme.

I remember too, being fascinated by the length of the great Dr. Ralph's feet, which always appeared first through a doorway, with the rest of his towering self further behind than ordinary mortals!

After that a big leap in time and experience to Rhodesia and memories in Que Que - the all-important "discovery" of Joan Hirsch and happy recollections of Hazel (now Chinn) as a Guide and her sister Marjory, whom, with my own mall daughter, I can still see dancing around under outsize Brownie (wartime) felt hats, for all the world like animated mushrooms.

Later to Fort Victoria and the visit of Olave Lady Baden-Powell, with the inevitable questions to our gathering - "How many of you have ever been Guides?" and 'What are you doing about it now?"

After I had confessed to a hiatus in my Guide activities for various reasons, and announced a prospective visit to Europe, it will not surprise you to hear that waiting at my London address was a long list of Guide functions in progress during my short stay, and inviting me to attend at least one I chose a long week-end Commissioner's Conference in Yorkshire to which I had the honour of travelling with the World Chief Guide herself and sharing her V.I.P. treatment throughout.

Over two hundred of us were tucked into a corner of a depleting Butlin's Camp at Filey, but still shared some of the holiday-makers' amenities, including the raucous radio's ''Wakee! Wakee!" announcements about the day ahead, even when the rain was coming down in torrents - an invitation to view the Dancing in the Viennese Ballroom, and attend a variety concert. Not to be done out of our own Camp-fires, however, we repaired belatedly to our own corner and listened with varying reactions to Mary Chater's beautiful rendering of Bach on piano, rollicked with her through the story of "The Knapsack and the Knapsack Strap", and attempted to copy the correct and complicated positions of orchestral instruments prior to putting the action into song. The whole experience was hilarious, and combined with equally memorable sessions (I remember one on "How not to take an L.A. - A.G.M.!") added up to the most enjoyable and painless instruction we could possibly have wished for - that is discounting the faces we took away sore with laughter. Crowning the whole Conference, the World Chief Guide's farewell message of inspiration and encouragement, delivered in her own inimitable and impressive manner, sent us all home uplifted and refreshed and ready to pick up and reunite all the fallen threads again.

And so inevitably back to Rhodesia and an increasing momentum of 'first' events under the distinguished and tireless leadership of our beloved Helen Wynne. To mention only two, the first Residential Training at R.E.P.S. which a family full of mumps prevented her from attending at the last minute, and at which she trusted me to deputise for her without notice - a challenge and an opportunity I shall always cherish; the first All Africa Conference (in Rhodesia) at Goromonzi, wonderfully organised and staffed, and particularly memorable for emphasising the similarities amongst us races on the African Continent, to the point of paling any differences into insignificance.

Five years in South Africa taught me a great deal in a new field, with handicapped Guides, Brownies and Rangers. They like to accept that 'handicap' is short for 'handy and capable', and that is what they strive to be. Guiding often brings out the most amazing qualities of leadership, which was evidenced in the most unexpected quarter - with a company of mentally handicapped Rangers and also satisfies their desperate need to be treated as normal people.

In forming a Division out of three widely separated Districts, I once came across a curious anomaly. When visiting a Guide Company, I was greeted by an immaculate male in starched khaki adorned with a blue Guide tie! The latter, he said, he changed on Brownie days for a brown one He didn't have anybody's permission to take a Guide Company, but did so, as he was sorry for the girls when the Scouts were having such fun - but he did have permission for Brownies, and proved it by showing me his Brown Owl's Warrant, neatly framed on his classroom wall! Nobody had queried whether L. MASONDO were male or female! Female substitutes were found and trained of course, and L. MASONDO became a most capable and vigilant District Secretary, an office he regarded as increased status so everyone was happy. He also continued his interest in the Guides by cycling cheerfully and at his own request twelve miles to and fro each day whenwe had residential trainings for Guiders and contributed a valuable quota to knotting and games sessions in particular.

Another ticklish situation arose, when a quarrel amongst adults was seriously affecting a Company and Pack. A solution was found however, when the adults met and were persuaded to agree that they had failed to observe the Guide Law on thrift, not with material things, but with words used unthinkingly and so causing unnecessary discord, and waste.

Luckily, we can look back on more thrills than spills, but bless both for their value in contributing to the fulfilment and serenity that comes from being "just a Guide".

* * * * * * * * * * *

MRS. JOSEPHINE MALABA

Several Guides were camping in the Matopos. The Guides were young and enthusiastic and the Guiders were in excellent spirits.

The programme drawn up by the Camp organisers included an overnight hike by Patrols to a point six miles from our base. Members of my patrol were given detailed directions to our destination. To our amazement the other patrols boarded the Guide Bus: Guides are long suffering: And so we left our base on foot.

The sky was cloudless. We trudged on and did some "Scouts Pace". The heat of the sun was merciless and dampened the spirits of my Guides. Our path was very awkward.

We had walked about three miles when one of the girls slipped on a rock and cut her leg. And so we had our first casualty. Guides are always prepared. Our First Aid box was well equipped, our patient was soon walking again, to the delight of her friends.

These girls are used to walking long distances In term time they run to and from school daily, and there are household chores for them too. So one would assume that six miles would not pose problems for them. This was walking - but with a difference! It was gentle mountaineering.

We had walked about five miles when we had our second casualty. One of the girls suddenly passed out. My brave little girls behaved like frightened mice! They lost confidence in themselves and in their ability to reach their destination. When our patient came to, we found out, for the first time, that she had very recently received treatment for bilharzia. We could now proceed at our second patient's pace. We rested her by carrying her on our backs. We prayed to see the Guide Bus, but our prayers were not answered. We reached our destination tired, thirsty, bruised and hungry. There was water to drink and food to eat but there were no Guides there and no bus. Puzzled we found some firewood and started preparing our evening meal.

Thirty minutes later, members of the other patrols arrived on foot! They were sweating, thirsty and tired. The Guide Bus had taken them to a point six miles beyond our destination and left them there to find their way to the camp! He laughs best who laughs last.

* * * * * * * * * * *

MRS. DAPHNE McALLISTER.

Many years ago - Brownie meetings would open and everyone would be made invisible (by sprinkling powdered yellow chalk on each Brownie). At the closing of the meeting Brown Owl would blow the powder off the whole pack - thus making them visible.

One meeting a Brownie had to leave early as her Daddy was fetching her for a dentist appointment. Dad arrived, and waited in the car-while Brownie duly saluted and ran to the car - half way there she came to a skidding halt - turned and ran back to me saying "Brown Owl - please blow me visible again so that my Daddy can see me." On being "blown visible", Brownie ran off completely satisfied that she could now be seen.

* * * * * * * * * * *

DR. MARJORIE BOURDILLON

My first experience of Guiding was at Broken Hill (now Kabwe), in the days when African girls were Wayfarer-Guides and Sunbeams. The girls of St. Mary's Mission School had been longing to have their own company, and they were enthusiastic and quick to learn. I, as their captain, had to learn with them. The first time our District Commissioner visited-us, she asked what the distress was about --- our Union Jack was up-side-down!

St. Mary's School specialised in needlework, and after a few weeks all our Wayfarer-Guides were in beautifully made uniforms with neat patrol badges embroidered by themselves. One patrol chose Kalulu the Hare as their emblem; the others chose Wagtail, Sunbird and Rose. They had no hats or berets; they wore bands of their pale blue scarf material tied round their heads.

When the company had existed 3 or 4 months, it won, with needlework and a collection of wild flowers, the Shield that was competed for annually by the local Wayfarer-Guide companies.

A few months later King George VI and Queen Elizabeth, with their daughters Princess Elizabeth and Princess Margaret; were to visit Northern Rhodesia, and a certain number of 1st Class or 2nd Cass Wayfarer-Guides from each company were invited to go to Livingstone to see and greet the Royal Party. Our Wayfarer Guides voted for which of their number should represent them, and I had to get those chosen through their 2nd Class tests; there was not time to test the whole company. The day came, and we excitedly marched to the Railway Station, and boarded the train to Livingstone. It was about 24 hours journey. On the way, we were repeatedly joined by delegations from other places. We slept one night at Livingstone, in large hut-dormitories, and ate with hundreds of Guides and Wayfarer-Guides from all over Northern Rhodesia. In the morning we all trooped to the bank of the Zambesi, to await the royal arrival. Many small boats and barges were moving up and down the river. Presently a large barge came rapidly down the river, paddled by about twenty Barotse, in a uniform featuring skin loin-cloth and black skin headdress. A while after, at a more dignified pace, came the Barotse Royal Barge, with Barotse paddlers fore and aft, and a large canopy in the middle. The Royal Barge drew in to the landing-place, and the Royal Party stepped out from under the canopy, were greeted by V.I.P.s, and taken by r to Livingstone. We all followed on foot. In the afternoon there was a rally of thousands of young people on a football field, with the Royal Party on a platform in the middle -- the King quiet and gracious, the Queen with her radiant smile, Princess Elizabeth imperious in manner (she reminded me of pictures of Queen Victoria), and Princess Margaret the schoolgirl ready to be amused. When the rally was over, we trooped to the Railway Station and boarded the train home to Broken Hill.

Soon after these events, I left Northern Rhodesia with my family. One of the St. Mary's teachers took over as Guide-captain, helped and supported, as I had been, by the Headmistress Sister Barbara, and by our Guide District

Commissioner Mrs. Elsie Thom. St. Mary's School flourished and grew, and I hear it has three Guide companies now.

* * * * * * * * * * *

MRS. SUE COMPTON

Quite appropriately my first guiding memory is of the day I was enrolled. I had been a Lone Guide for a time, and had then been asked to form a Brownie Pack at Sydney-on-Vaal - a tiny and pretty village on the alluvial diamond diggings, forty miles West of Kimberley.

On the 23rd May, 1933, the Division Commissioner, Mrs. Daisy Eden, came out from Kimberley to enrol me, present my Warrant, enrol my Brownies and to form a L.A. Committee. All the villagers had been invited and it was quite a festive occasion.

For me it was an ordeal. My Father had decreed that after the Ceremony I would have to stand up and say thank you, and as I had never made a speech in public before I was terrified! The day came, and after a practically sleepless night, I rose at the crack of dawn and started to rehearse my speech. I must have disturbed my young brother, who rushed to my parents, concern all over his face and said, "I think Sue has gone mad. She's standing in front of the mirror in her pyjamas saying 'Mrs. Eden, Ladies and Gentlemen' over and over again!"

I'm happy to add that all went well, and now, as a Division Commissioner myself, I often look back and remember the unfailing sympathy, help and encouragement that Mrs. Eden gave to a very young and inexperienced Guider, and try, in my own way, to emulate her example.

I remember taking my Brownies, twenty miles on the back of a lorry, over dusty, bumpy roads, in the blazing heat of summer, to Barkley West to meet the Chief Guide. By today's standards, such a journey might be frowned on, but we managed it, and came home enriched with memories of a wonderful occasion that I, for one, will never forget.

A wonderful memory is of my first camp in 1936. Fifty us from the Northern Cape spent ten days at the Victoria Falls. My first camp; my first visit to Rhodesia; My first sight of the Falls; how could l ever forget it? It was also my first experience of meeting Guiders of other places and I remember how the Mafeking Guides were at the station to regale us with tea and buns as our train passed through, and of course, the wonderful day of sight-seeing and entertainment by the Guides when we reached Bulawayo.

The Falls area was far more primitive than it is now, but our camping ground was beautiful, set among lovely big trees. The only thing was, hordes of monkeys lived in the trees and though amusing at times, were also rather a nuisance. I remember, as one of the Cooks Patrol, putting a loaf of bread on the table, reaching out for a knife and turning back in time to see a monkey disappearing up a nearby tree with the whole loaf of bread.

Our "bathrooms" were made from hessian screening erected under the trees, and the sight of fifty Girl Guides performing their ablutions held an irresistable fascination for the monkeys. They would congregate in the trees above, peer down at us, and chatter madly. Their little faces were so oddly human, that at times, we'd feel quite embarrassed at their invasion of our privacy! I remember one morning thinking it was raining and looked up to find a small monkey on a branch directly above me! Thereafter I used to take my umbrella with me when I went to bath, much to the amusement of my tent mates! We used to call them our 'little brothers' but when describing their antics were always very careful to explain that we were referring to the monkeys - not the Boy Scouts!

Soon after this I moved to Kimberley and took over a very lively Brownie Pack there. I remember one outing very well. I had read in a Guide magazine that eggs could be successfully cooked by coating them in mud and placing them in the hot ashes of a campfire. Being young and foolish, it never entered my head to try this out before doing it with the Brownies. For the next meeting I told the Brownies to bring an egg with them and we hiked to a nearby field. Here each Six (under adult supervision) made a fire and each Brownie made a mud pie with an egg embedded in the centre of it. Then each mud pie was ceremoniously placed on the embers. Within moments there was a loud "Pop" and egg and mud flew in all directions. What went wrong, I still don't know. Possibly the embers were too hot. It was not long before pops and splutters were coming from all sides of the field and by the time the 24th egg and mud pie had exploded we were all convulsed with laughter. It was certainly not what I'd planned, but the Brownies loved it and insisted that our cooking failure had been far more fun than any success could possibly have been.

About this time it was decided that the Kimberley Guides needed their own Hall and a big fund raising Fete was planned. My Brownies were to run the sweet stall and months of effort went into our preparations. The date was fixed - 1st September, 1939 - and when the news of Germany's invasion of Poland came out, it was too late to withdraw, the Fete had to go on. How well I remember working with other Guiders that afternoon, setting up the stall, while their faces registered their grim determination to "smile and sing" even while we knew in our hearts that we were on the brink of war. The parents and the public were wonderful. Perhaps they looked on it as a "final fling"; whatever the reason, that Fete was a resounding success: and I was there ten years later, when Lady Baden-Powell opened Kimberley's lovely Guide Hall.

With the outbreak of war, I exchanged my navy blue uniform for a khaki one and it was in the late 1940s that I was able to come back into the Guiding world. At that time my job precluded any regular guiding activity, but a friend who worked as a Wayfarer Guider made me a "part-time trainer" and whenever my office duties permitted I would attend Wayfarer meetings, and take sessions on some aspect of Guide work.

One of these sessions nearly ended in disaster:- I'd been teaching knots, and set the girls to tying clove hitches round each other's arms. One bright spark decided to tie her rope round her partner's neck, and having done the knot wrongly in the first place, tried to undo it, and the more she tried to pull it undone, the tighter it drew round the girl's throat, and I arrived on the scene just in time to save one Wayfarer from strangulation. On my next Wayfarer session, I taught First Aid, with special emphasis on artificial respiration. I loved the Wayfarers and I think it was my association with them that sparked off the interest in African Guiding that I still have today.

In 1950 I took over a Brownie Pack in Jagersfontein, a small mining town in the Orange Free State, and I recall that my daughter attended her first Brownie meeting at the age of 6 weeks.

It was in Jagersfontein too that I was first warranted as a Guide Guider. As 99% of my Guides were Afrikaans speaking, and as my knowledge of the language was approximately 1% of nil, the running of this Company probably left much to be desired. We had a lot of fun though!

Guiding in Rhodesia started for me in the Mondoro Reserve. It was while going round to African Women's Clubs in the area that I was approached by some of the women, anxious to know if I knew anything about Guiding.

After visiting several companies and packs, I realised that help was sorely needed in this area and on a visit to Salisbury found my way to H.Q. where the then Secretary, Mrs. Sheila Nolan, put me in touch with Mrs. Hale, District Commissioner for Norton. Mondoro was one of the more inaccessible bits of Mrs. Hale's District, and she was delighted to hear of someone on the spot ready to lend a hand. Her satisfaction was short-lived however, as within a few weeks we were transferred to Mrewa, - and this was my first experience of the Girl Guide Grapevine.

On our first day in Mrewa, my husband, a Police Reservist, called at the Police Station to say that his transfer papers would be following, but he was on the spot and available for call-out if needed. The Member-in-Charge had only one comments- "Yes, we knew you were coming. Your wife is going to take charge of the Girl Guides." To say we were flabbergasted is putting it mildly! It was only when we discovered that the District Commissioner, Mrewa, was Sheila Hill, wife of the Member-in-Charge, that we began to see the light.

It was from Mrewa that I attended my first Council meeting. And I've never been so bewildered in my life! It very soon became apparent that Rhodesian Guiding was very different from the South African variety, and there was not a soul I knew who could enlighten me. I must have looked a bit forlorn because a Guider, whom I later got to know well, Miss Marjorie Baker, suddenly appeared and tucked me under her wing, and by the end of the day I was finding Council interesting, instructive and enjoyable.

My next appointment was District Commissioner at Msengezi, and a couple of years later, when we moved to Gwelo I stated firmly that my Guiding life would be confined to a nice, well-behaved little Brownie Pack - preferably as Tawny Owl. Then I met the Provincial Commi3sioner - Mrs. Sheila Pirie - and found that I was Division Commissioner, South Midlands! I had three districts, African and European, and the nicest collection of Guiders imaginable. My years of Guiding in Gwelo provide some of my happiest memories.

Shortly after I took over, a farming family in the District, Mr. and Mrs. Doyle, whose daughter, Penny, was Gwelo's first Queen's Guide, offered the Guides the use of a tumbledown cottage on their farm, about seven miles from town.

It offered a lovely Pack Holiday Home for the Brownies. The grounds were a perfect camp site for the Guides, and it was not long before we had organised work parties of Guides to tackle the necessary repairs and renovations. I recall one Saturday afternoon when I arrived with a work party, bent on painting the bathroom walls. But someone had removed the step ladder. However, my husband is not a guide for nothing! He saw no reason why he shouldn't be a step ladder, and hoisting the smallest Guide up on to his shoulders, he instructed the tallest Guide to stand beside Lim to hold the paint pot, and two more Guides stood in front of him to do the lower half of the wall. By the end of the afternoon the wall was painted. So was my husband, and so were four Guides! I don't think I'll ever forget the expression on Reverend Mother's face when I deposited four pale green boarders on the steps of the Regina Mundi Convent.

The cottage, looking very spick and span, was eventually officially opened by Mrs. Kathleen Rea, then Chief Commissioner, and with about 300 Brownies, Guides, Rangers, Scouts, Cubs, parents, friends and civic dignitaries present, this too was a very memorable occasion.

Forty years of Guiding! What a wealth of memories they hold! If any one reading these yarns doubts it, I'd say, “Come and join us!” You'll find that in Guiding, anything can happen - and usually does!!!

Since writing the above, I have remembered another little episode which I feel has a rather wider interest. It concerns Miss Sutton, former Provincial Commissioner of Natal, whose name is familiar to most of us, for it was she who gave us that lovely hymn, "Look down, 0 Father."

My first memory of her was at a campfire in Johannesburg in 1938. She told us a most delightful story about a family who liked eating "thauthageth and math". So convincingly did she lisp her way through the story that many of us were completely taken in, and remarked afterwards that it must be a great handicap for a person in her position to have such a serious speech impediment.

It was a few days later, when she read the Lesson during Morning Prayers, that we realised her lisp had been purely a campfire act.

Miss Sutton was a grand person, and a connoisseur of story-telling. Another of her stories, about a mouse, is one that I have told to Brownies time and time again over the years.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

MISS BEA BUCK

This incident took place during the night at Victoria Falls in July, 1927. I think that this was the first Guide Camp ever held at the Falls - most certainly it was the largest.

Guides came from N'dola, Broken Hill, Kapiri Mposhi, Lusaka, Mazabuka and Livingstone - also a Ranger Company of which I was Captain - a small contingent came from Southern Rhodesia.

Lady Stanley - wife of our Governor, and "President" - visited us twice in Camp. The Camp Commandant (name- I cannot remember) came from Broken Hill and the Camp took place in the winter holidays, when it could be quite cool early morning and late evening.

As well as Ranger Captain, I was in charge of the Red Cross Tent.

On the second or third night I was wakened by the C.C. in the middle of the night - she had been bitten on her lower arm by a scorpion.

She was in great pain and the arm was reddish and swelling slightly already. For a few seconds I was nearly paralysed with fright!, then laid her on the bed and suddenly remembered I had heard from somewhere that powdered quinine was the best treatment.

I gave the C. Commandant some aspirin and powdered some quinine tablets (of which I had plenty) and spread the powder over the bite and inflamed area and put her arm in a sling. Within a minute or so the pain was much less acute and in the meantime I put on the kettle over a Primus stove in order to make a hot fomentation and a cup of tea (all this by hurricane lamp only). I applied a Boracic Acid foment and we had tea, after which C.C. felt much better and in no more pain and went to sleep.

In the morning she was feeling well enough to do her duties as C.C. but kept her arm in a sling for another 24 hours.

Apart from minor injuries there were no further incidents, in the most wonderful five - six Camp I have ever been to.

P.S. In those days Northern Rhodesian Guides and Rangers wore khaki uniforms and wide-brimmed navy blue hats - skirts halfway between knee and foot!

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

MRS. K.B. KGWATALALA

Rowallan Park is situated in an adventurous place among the Matopo Hills. The atmosphere there is absolutely "outdoorly" if ever there's a word like that Once you put your foot there you will always have something to remember in your life no matter what you are.

Among all the days I have had at Rowallan, there is one that makes me laugh whenever it comes back to my mind. One fine day a Mrs. Smile drove from Bulawayo to give a lesson on stars to a group of Guiders at this happy Park. The lesson went very successfully and Mrs. Smile's two-year-old girl and a three months baby in the car behaved so well that there was no interruption. After this nice lesson we all went in to enjoy a cup of tea with our guest after which we all sat down around the big umbrella-like tree in front of the nice home. Then Mrs. Smile got ready to return to Bulawayo she drove her car and stopped it a few yards from where we were having a lesson on Company Management. As you know we women always have something to say to our friends before we part. Mrs. Smile ran into the kitchen to have a little goodbye laughter with the orderlies. No one knows whether our friend left the handbrake off or if her baby girl pushed it. You know what happened, and one guider shouted "Imot a hamba!" which means "The car is going!" Can you imagine what we did?

Among us there were licenced drivers but - ha-ha-ha, we gripped the back bumper pulling with all our might. Some of us went to the front to push it back. Then someone in the pushing group said "Umywana, maiwe!" ("Put on the hand brake")

Funny she was a licenced driver and could have done the right thing. Some people can be very calm even at most exciting moments. This was Miss Pilgrim who stepped up quietly and put on the brake. When all this happened the little girl on the front seat was having a lot of amusement at the scene and her baby brother enjoying a nice sleep, their mother only came out of the kitchen to find guiders around her car laughing at their stupidity and talking without listening to each other.

Was it love or fright that made us panic so much?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

MRS. SADIE WINCHESTER

The night before her enrolment, a very new and very inexperienced Brown Owl of 2nd Dett Pack phoned her Commissioner in Wankie. The conversation went something like this:-

B/O: My uniform is brown.

Comm: Brown ?

B/O: Yes, brown, Is that alright ?

Comm:(puzzled): What made it brown ?

B/O: I bought it.

Comma: (still puzzled): How could they have sold you a brown uniform ?

B/O: I bought the material there in Dett - the same as the Brownies - is it alright ?

Comm: Actually, it should be BLUE for the Guiders.

B/O: Oh ! ....I thought it was odd the Guide Shop sent me a blue hat ! Does this mean I can't get enrolled tomorrow ?

Comm: No, you will still get enrolled.. It won't matter for tomorrow; but you'll need a blue Ione, anyway, afterward. However, I'll try and borrow a Guider's uniform and bring it down with me.

SCENE CHANGES. 3 p.m, next day at Dett.

A blue-clad figure emerges from the shaded and explains: "My mother-in-law (they do have their uses) went out and bought this blue material this morning and frantically sewed a new uniform for me."

An astonished Comm did not have the heart to tell her till after the meeting that, although it was BLUE, it was made up in the style of a BROWNIE'S uniform

But this is the stuff that the best Brown Owls are made of.

* * * * @ * * * *

'BE PREPARED'. An example of putting the Motto into action.

This is a very recent "reminiscence":-

In Jubilee Year two V.I.P. Commissioners from Bulawayo and district motored up to a Guide Fete in Wankie. They set out in the very early chill morning air suitably clad in winter-weight trouser suits over warm tops and under heavy top coats, As the journey progressed the weather got warmer and warmer. Layer by layer the clothing was discarded, but from about Gwai onwards the heat was unbearable (even discreetly opening a few buttons here and there could not compensate for spencers next to the skin!) Finally two very limp, hot travellers alighted, (official recorded max. temp. 3/6/72: 300C). Their hostess was astounded at the pile of clothing under which all three staggered to the house!!! Meekly the V.I.P.s confessed to also having brought extra blankets for overnight warmth!!!! That night there was a further confession: "We also brought our own hot-water bottles Giggles all round I seem to remember they did fill these. For bravado ?

Official recorded minimum temperature 3rd June, 1972: 11.5°C.

Conversely, a Wankie Commissioner travelling to Bulawayo on the overnight train in Mid-summer finds, on arrival, that the temperature has plumetted (SHE DID NOT PACK A JERSEY!) and rain is falling.(SHE DID NOT PACK A RAINCOAT!! or UMBRELLA). BUT SHE DID PACK SUNGLASSES ..... which proves not all Guiders live by the Motto.

Reminiscence of 1963 - the strong hand-shake and direct, laughing eyes of the World Chief Guide during her visit to a Rally held to honour her in Wankie.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

MRS. JEANIE CLARKE

My first experience of camping took place during the Second World War, in the South of England. We were ordered to pitch under trees for camouflage from enemy aircraft but during the late afternoon a storm blew up. Because of the more imminent danger of being struck by lightning we all had to re-pitch - out in the open!

Being the young, rather disobedient sister of the Camp Commandant, I had not been very speedy in getting my patrol organised for bed. Fortunately, for us, our bedding rolls were still tightly secured in groundsheets when torrential rains flooded through the camp. All the others were thoroughly soaked and had retire to the barn for the night. When the rain eased a little, we heard a weird war-chant coming from over the hill, from the direction of the Scout Camp nearby. Then ghostly apparitions in swimming trunks, with hatchets over their shoulders appeared - and very politely asked if they could help by trenching our tents. We gratefully accepted, and were soon able to retire comfortably in a nice dry tent!

We noticed one small Scout wearing white(?) tennis shoes although the water was well over his ankles. Iasked him why he did so.

"My Mum told me to keep my feet dry," he replied. "At least I can truthfully say I tried"

We spent the next hour or two with feet to the centre pole, holding on to the brailing to keep the tent from blowing away, but we did manage to be sound asleep when the rest emerged from the barn next morning, most envious of our adventures.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

MRS. VIVIEN HARMER

The beginnings and the seed was sown.

Well, as I sit on my verandah overlooking the Essexvale Hills, it seems a far cry to those days in the late twenties when I became a Guide in the 8th Reading Company in England. We were a large church group with Brownies, Guides and Rangers, and a brave sight we made, when each month, some 70 girls strong we paraded to church. We formed up some distance away and were led by the Boys Brigade with their band, and marched smartly with our colours. I remember clearly my first church parade, when as a recruit I could not march, but, (as I still am) I was quite overcome by the splendidly carried out ceremonial. My enrolment was the great day, and as it was our annual open-day for parents, the Divisional Commissioner came, and our ceremony was carried out on the platform, since the hall was quite full! We called our Commissioners 'Madam', and she was resplendent in silver cords, gauntlet gloves, black stockings and shoes. Afterwards in the entertainment I played a piano solo, and I knocked the music clean off the piano, and amid much laughter had to pick it up and start again. Highlights of this period were when I became P.S. of the Swallow Patrol, and about a year later the P.L. of the new Shamrock Patrol, and finally as the greatest privilege, to be the bearer of the Union Flag, and in charge of the colour party. I remember vividly my agony when doing the Needlewoman's Badge for First Class, when my Captain made me do five darns before she would allow me to enter, by which time my baby cousin had completely outgrown the smocked frock I had so laboriously made! My certificate bears the words 'Careful work'.

Passing on to Rangers I went all out for hiking and camping. Most clearly remembered is the camp where I was tested for the Ranger Campcraft Certificate. Having been chosen for colour ceremonial at a big function I fluffed the breaking of the colours. Oh dear! the dead silence as I hauled down the offending flag, unhitched the cord, and praying hard hauled it up again, when it mercifully 'broke'. As a Ranger I went abroad for the first time to France and Switzerland. In those days Guiding was in the forefront with travel overseas for youth. Travelling cheaply the seats in the French train were extremely hard, and I was bodily heaved up onto the luggage rack. Needless to say I became wedged! You can imagine the hilarity, it brought forth all the rest of our party, and ultimately the guard to my rescue. I regret I was severely dressed down as a bad example to Guiding.

Launching out. Becoming a Guider and finding my sea-legs.

After college days I continued as a young Guider in Hampshire as a Ranger Lieutenant and Guide Captain, and on to Lancashire where I found myself as a too young District Commissioner. Returning to my home town of Reading I set about gaining my Campers Licence. This proved to be a marathon of ten days constant effort, during which about 20 candidates hauled tents and screening up and down, acting as in-experienced Guides for the luckless Guider being tested. I got top marks for my marmalade roly-poly and my stalking game, but failed dismally with my huge ridge-tent, when, in a howling gale, the fly sheet took off and landed in a tree. I won't record the remarks in my tent that night. Those were indeed the days!!

About this time I was approached by a Guiderless Ranger Company and would I be Skipper if they changed to Sea Rangers. Well, that started a seven year period of war-time Guiding, when with a full-time job as a Milk Adviser, a part-time job as an Ambulance Driver, I had the finest company I ever had, of rarely less than 30 girls. Many of these became Wrens, and many returned later on to give service to the Movement. We bought an old ex-Admiralty Gig, and spent four months making her sea-worthy (as we thought). Then came the great launching day. When the bottle broke over her bows, the chosen crew smartly launched S.R.S. Achilles, and we proudly invited our V. I.P's. to be taken for a ceremonial trip on the River Thames. Alas, alack, we had quite omitted to remember that four months on the land opened up the clinker built gig, and no sooner had the bow-man pushed off when trickle, trickle came in the water, and we realised that the floor-boards would soon be awash!! Making hastily for the bank we mercifully landed our guests without getting their feet wet, and quickly we moved everybody off for refreshments. One guest was heard to remark, "That was very nice, but I'd have liked the trip to be much longer!!" All through the war our annual holiday was spent camping on the river. We raised money and bought very old cheap boats, repaired them, and finally all 30 of us could go off in our fleet, towing supplies behind in an old dinghy. In this way, we explored the River Thames from Caversham up to Oxford, and down to Windsor. We reckoned to row about 20 km each day, and visit all the lovely villages en route.

The proudest moment of our history was when we received invitations on two occasions to visit the Windsor Crew, of which the Queen, then Princess Elizabeth was a member. This first time had to be done in complete secrecy, all I could tell the Rangers was that they must be on Reading Station looking like band-boxes at a certain time, and that their parents must trust me to get them safely home by a certain time. I could only tell them when in our reserved compartment on the train, "We are going to the Windsor Crew for their Christmas Party." The only Ranger to be worried was my senior Bo'sun who would have to propose the vote of thanks from S.R.S.Achilles. We composed her speech on the train. We had a super time in one of the banquet halls at Windsor Castle, and we were also honoured when Her Majesty (the now Queen Mother) came and joined us. Princess Margaret as a Guide was invited and she was quite the life and soul of the party. She distinguished herself in a hectic game by nearly tearing off one of her black stockings, and had to retire to be repaired!

Another tremendous day was the Thanksgiving Service for Sea Rangers at St. George's Chapel, Windsor. It rained in sheets prior to and during the service, but notwithstanding we marched past wearing somewhat fixed smiles. I remember seeing literally rivulets of water running through the pews whilst we sang our praises. The return journey however was hilarious when one of the Rangers discovered her whole body was dyed a bright purple! It was soon discovered we all were, our serge uniforms not being colour-fast.

One last wonderful moment was when we went to look at a canoe we wished to buy. It was moored right under the Caversham Bridge, in full view of the people enjoying watching the river scene on a pleasant evening. Skipper was invited to have a trip, so with a Ranger holding the craft firmly she stepped in bravely. The sad end to this tale was Skipper standing in 1.5 m. of water, with her white tricorn hat serenely in position, with the Sea Rangers in convulsions, and the crowd above on the bridge shouting their encouragements, and alas, the canoe upside-down! I was duly elected a member of the "All-in-Club".

Towards the end of my Sea Ranger adventures I had a most interesting experience, The Guide Movement was asked to provide 24 able bodied youngish Guiders with nautical experience to. attend an Outward Bound Training at Aberdovy, to see if the then infant scheme could be extended to include girls and young women. I was one of the guinea pigs on this course and we were given the works. We rather felt as if the men, all tough naval instructors, were quite sure we could not take it, and we were all quite sure we could. The highlight of the course was two days sailing before the mast, and we did all the handling of the sails, out over the bowsprits, and cleaned the ship with a will. I shall never forget on the first morning I was detailed to cook breakfast for the ward-room, eggs and, bacon, toast and coffee at 7.0am. sharp. The galley was down below, and had a coal stove, a shelf with a few pots, and was about 2m long and lm wide. The ventilator above opened onto the deck through which at regular intervals a head would appear. "How goes Vivien?" "For heaven's sake don't break the eggs." "Do you feel sick Vivien?" The ship was pitching badly, so I propped myself against one side with legs well apart and held the frying pan firmly. The worst moment was when the ship dropped, several of the eggs scrambled themselves. However, prompt on time we somehow got the breakfast served and into the wardroom, although I was glad not to have to appear. Fried eggs and bacon did not appeal for some time afterwards! We also rowed in whalers with 17ft sweeps, but ve were all fit and nobody reported to the sick bay, it was really an exhilarating experience. Towards the end our instructors became positively human, and had to admit the ship was more efficiently run, was cleaner, and the food much more attractive than they had had it before, so we relaxed, and learnt a tremendous amount.

The end of this tale was that Outward Bounds was opened to the weaker sex, but thankfully the course was amended, but still with flavour of adventure and toughness.

P.S. Another result were two romances!! This, the powers that be had not reckoned for.

We travel Overseas

My Guiding adventures started anew when some time after my marriage we went to Mauritius for four years, Here was a fresh challenge, since I found myself to be the only Guider with a campers' licence on the island, and nobody else with any experience of training. Guiding was well established but I found that the districts were not geographical, but consisted of fixed groups belonging to the same ethnic communities or. religions. I started a mixed Cadet Company from all districts, and it proved a startling success. We had French, British, all types from the Coloured Communities, Chinese, Muslims and Hindus. Religion was a real problem, 90% of the French and Coloured Communities being very strict Catholics, and the Hindus and Muslims observing their own customs very strictly too. Our camps were most complicated, but good will prevailed, and the various diets respected. It took my whole four years to achieve and organise the first wholly mixed rally ever held, but these days all is very changed. Commonwealth H.Q. decided they should legalise my position, so this was how I became a trainer! When Miss Pilkington arrived one of her jobs was to test me, and the Guiders training at which this took place was again the first ever really mixed training. I still remember with nostalgia the wonderful camping sites, the sea on our doorsteps, beautiful blue lagoons with wonderful goggling, and warm water. The French Guides made the most wonderful gadgets and always included a lovely chapel. I shall always remember their camp-fires.

Our next home was in South West Africa at Windhoek. We arrived at Walvis Bay, cold, and in a thick fog, and then the quite frightening drive up through real desert, up and up to Windhoek. Here however is a highly cultured community, and a bright modern city. Guiding was once again quite different, and most of my new friends were either German or Afrikaans speaking. In my company of Cadets, which again was my first job, three languages were often being spoken at once, and the girls changed from one to another in the same sentence, which rather foxed me!

My first camp was literarily hair-raising. We travelled in an open lorry, and not ducking quick enough under a thorn tree my hat was speared through and was left impaled neatly by the thorns. There was great hilarity as the lorry was backed to retrieve my precious headgear. The site which was further up in the mountains, was tremendous. We used rocks for tent pegs, and everything was brought up including the water. The lorry retreated leaving us alone, after Mauritius the change could not be greater. I felt truly thankful that I was not in charge nor the responsible Guider. During the night the Guiders took it in turns throughout darkness to watch the encroaching bush fires rapidly coming our way) fanned by a steady wind. I had secretly made plans for the mass evacuation into the dam which was near us, but very filthy as it was used by large herds of cattle! However all was well, nobody else appeared to be worried, I really felt I had arrived and been truly baptised into real Africa. I remember chuckling to myself as I recollected my test for my Campers Licence. I wondered what my Test C.A. would have made of this site and these sturdy youngsters? The real flavour of adventurous Guiding was there, and all the essentials too, it was a great introduction to another part of our great family of Guiding.

And now the last chapter, and we reach Rhodesia which from 1960 became our permanent home. Many highlights are carefully stored away and only a few will I add in closing. Firstly the tremendous thrill to me of having the opportunity to travel for ten years in the bundu, to help with the building up of Guiding in the rural areas, and welding the huge Province of Matabeleland together as a Guiding community. The adventures on bush road, rivers coming down, and always friendly people to help me along. My husband's patient but worried face when I sometimes could not phone to say I was held up, and arrived home after dark. Dear old "Connie" in whom I travelled safely for some 70,000 miles, and who always managed to bring me home whatever the conditions. (Sorry I forgot to be metric). Taking Mrs. Rea to Musume Mission with all the stream running fast. We crossed nine safely, and got stuck in the last one The joy on the Guides faces who rushed laughingly to push us out, and their welcome. Accompanying Mrs. Kaufman on her first bundu journey to Nkai, and on returning we had a blow-out! Another anxious husband was awaiting us, and we looked like tinkers.

The tremendous success of our "Feed the Children Scheme" and the responsible way the companies undertook this real service in the schools.

The building-up of Rowallan Park over the years. Mrs. Wynne arriving with Mrs. Betty Clay for the Tokozani Camp and the official opening of the Lodge.

The arrival of the Chief Guide for the dedication of the Rowallan Chapel.

The great polka in the foyer of the Bulawayo City Hall: The occasion was when Mrs. Ellman-Brown announced that as a result of her wonderful Fete, we had raised enough to buy the Matabeleland Bus.

And then subsequently when Miss Payne and I drove the bus for the International Ranger Round-Up, right down the Honde Valley, and climbing the Inyangani Mountain.

Now for the great finale, our Jubilee Celebrations, the Great Diamond Trek, the Rowallan Music Camp, and all the fund raising for the future of Guiding. The great triumph of Mrs. Weeks and Mrs. Malaba in Canada when we achieved full membership of WAGGGS, the joint effort of so many leaders both past and present who brought Rhodesian Guiding to this climax. For many, these last reminiscences will belong to you too, but for me they complete the jottings of my various journeys.

Well, I have surely had some wonderful times, and so many friends in various parts of the world. I have had a red face on many occasions, but many more happenings of real fun, and quite a few riotous times. I hope the younger
generation may have the same opportunities as I have had from their Guiding days. To continue along the road it leads, as you can see, to a very full and happy life.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

OUR FIRST GOOD TURN - ANONYMOUS (Beit Bridge)

Our Company was started in 1969 March. From the very beginning we enjoyed it very much because of new games and songs. At the beginning of the third term, at one meeting, our Guider sent us out in Patrols each with a paper written in big letters :-

COMPANY GOOD TURN - SUGGESTIONS.

In our community there is a short old joyful old woman and it happened that all the four patrols put her down as one of our suggestions. So this resulted in the Court of Honour agreeing on her as the fairest to help. This old lady liked beer drinking so much that she didn't have time at all for her poor home though she lives among better cared for homes, so we decided to mend her broken wall to protect her from strong winds, to wash her pots, sweep her yard and fetch wood for her. To do all this we divided our company of 28 into respective groups for the above, and we agreed that she should be told.

On the day of the Good Turn we went to do our parts of the work as agreed. We got busy on the little hut and its contents, this we did quietly so that she could not hear us from the nearby home where she was drinking. But somehow something told her to come back just to meet a thick cloud of smoke from burning rubbish which frightened her with the thought that her only hut was on fire.

She shouted "Fire! Fire! Please help!", and she was astonished to be answered with laughter and a clean yard and almost new wall for the hut. Then we sat down with her to enjoy her jokes and stories, after which we went into the hut with her to help put her property well.

As we were busy indoors the firewood group arrived singing "Girl Guides, Be Prepared is our Motto". In the bush the group had come across a tortoise, on which they had for a long time argued as whether to take or leave, but at last one in the group had said, "You know, that old lady is a jack of all trades," so they picked to give it to her.

To our surprise when she came out to meet them she was more pleased and thankful for the tortoise which she said had the tastiest meat on earth. What has never been forgotten by us is what she said in English. "THANK YOU VERY MUCH MY DEAR GIRLS MAY GOD BLESS YOU." After which one of us said, "Shall we speak English like her when we are grandmas?"

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

MRS. MARION ROSS

One of the partially-sighted Brownies at the King George VI Children's Centre stood right in front of me one day and her eyes were level with my Guide Badge on my tie, she looked at it for a few seconds and then said, "Does that G.G. mean Good Going?".

On another occasion the same Company and Pack decided to have a birthday party when we were three years old and invited the then Commissioner for Extensions Lady Cummings, she was so thrilled that she said we could have it in her house just outside Bulawayo. On the day of the party she phoned me at work and said she had been unable to leave Salisbury as she was ill. She suggested we ask the Chairman of the LA to take her place as Guest of Honour or an alternative was to approach an ex-Commissioner who was interested in our Company. I tried to get the Chairman of the L.A. but she was out so then got on to the ex-Commissioner who said she would be delighted to come even at short notice. Round about this time Lady Cummings thought she would get in touch with the Chairman of the L.A. who told her she would be delighted to come. When we arrived in the evening both ladies had made a point of arriving early, for a few minutes I thought our party would be an awful flop, but after talking to all concerned we decided to get on and enjoy ourselves and we had a most enjoyable evening.

You can probably imagine at the time the duplication seemed serious but after everything was sorted out we had a good laugh.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

MISS MARY DINNEEN

At twelve years of age, I anticipated my first Guide Camp with such enthusiasm that I feared I would not live long enough to see the dream materialise.

We arrived at a site near Worm's Head in South Wales to find the tents already pitched by the Patrol Leaders of the District. Our first duty was to fill our palliasses (two sheets sewn together on three sides) with straw and then sew them up on the fourth side. While we were thus engaged, a wasp came to investigate the intruders into his territory. We Guides were apprehensive but my own Captain, who was in charge of the palliasse squad, told us firmly to sit still, not fuss, and the unwelcome visitor would depart. It did indeed disappear and we obediently returned our attention to the exciting business of stuffing straw into the palliasses. Suddenly, we were startled by an agonised "Ow" from our worthy Captain. The wasp had quietly crawled up the long sleeve of her Guide uniform and stung her on the arm. This amused us immensely!

The next day I was in the Cook Patrol and I shall never forget the feeling of utter hopelessness which overtook me when we were confronted by a huge bath full of potatoes which had to be peeled. Doubtless there was joy in store for the local pigs, but not for the hapless Cook patrol. When my protesting wrists would no longer hold the knife, I cried into the bath and my Patrol Leader said I was lazy. Then my Captain came and took me into her tent and gave me a piece of chocolate, which made her my friend for life. She still is, in fact, and sends me the Guider magazine every month.

That night, because I was the smallest Guide in camp and had not borne up too well during the very strenuous first day, I was sent to bed instead of going to the camp-fire. As I lay looking out of the bell-tent doorway at the stars, I could hear the sound of camp-fire singing in the distance. The only song I
remember is "Eengonyama, imvubu" which melody, after all these years, takes me back to my first night at my first camp.

The next day, we went for our introductory dip in the icy Atlantic Ocean. My mother had knitted me a very smart brown and yellow swimming costume and I floated with tremendous pride over the gold sand and into the inviting waves.

My vanity rapidly evaporated when the knitted costume stretched on coming into contact with the water and I had to hold it up to prevent it from dropping right down to my ankles. Complete humiliation overwhelmed me at the
sound of the screams of laughter from the rest of the District campers

Yes, I have never forgotten my first camp and I still maintain that it was the best camp I ever went to.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

MRS. MONICA BOATWRIGHT

It all started in 1922, when the Chief Commissioner for South Africa, Mrs. Fulford, came to Swaziland and stayed with my parents. She came to tell Swaziland about Guiding, and my mother was very interested and called a meeting of all other interested parents. I was produced to model the Brownie uniform which thrilled me very much. It was a huge straw hat, brown uniform, Sixer emblem on the left and a cloth Brownie emblem on the right above the pocket, and a Guide belt, the smallest size yet it always slipped off me all the time. My mother was enrolled as a Guide and given a cockade and wonderful silver cords pinned to her jacket. She wore a straw hat with an enormous cockade on one side and huge gauntlet gloves. She became the first Territorial Commissioner for Swaziland, and in those days it was called Protectorate Commissioner. The first Company was started at St. Marks School in Mbabane and a Pack at the same time. The Brownies helped form Guards of Honour with the Guides and Police on the arrival of High Commissioners, the Prince of Wales, etc. My chief recollection of this is how we ran away from the huge prancing horses as they cantered up suddenly with mounted police as escort to the V.I.P. car, and a distraught Brown Owl trying to get us back into line.

The story of my Guide life nearly ended here because I could not darn, and darning a sock was one of the things we had to do. Every time the Brown Owl would say, poking her finger right through my painfully achieved darn, "Supposing this had been the toe, Monica?" I tried three times and ended up in tears and if it hadn't been for my mother's encouragement I would have given up completely.

In those days Brownies had to make sets of dolls clothes or to knit wristlets or a muffler as part of their tests for First Class. The Grand Howl was made by putting your finger into your mouth and twirling it up and down and 'Tu Whooing' at the same time, culminating in a loud 'La La La' whereupon the most senior Sixer in the Pack asked 'What does La La La mean?" and all the Pack shouted out 'Lend a Hand, and play the game'. I often wondered what game was referred to. She then produced a Union Jack from her pocket and all the Pack stood at attention

I then went on to Guides, having got my First Class in Brownies. Badges in those days didn't seem to have been invented tor Brownies. I had to walk or bike rather a long way to attend Guides so was a bit weary when we w at tracking and I used to trail behind when everybody else was finding a sign, but I had a very sympathetic Captain who took my efforts into account. I was a member of the Loerie Patrol which we pronounced (Lorry) and then became Patrol Leader of the Swallows and went to camp. What a thrill! Ox wagons were in vogue then and our kit all went in ox wagons. Our uniforms were all home-made and hats were blue straw, all of one size. Mine was stuffed with paper and I looked rather like a tadpole. In fact the only Guide whose hat fitted was the Company Leader. We had great fun, and an excellent Captain, and I was working towards First Class and was very interested in Guiding when I was then sent to boarding school in South Africa. There I became a very junior member in a patrol named after some dim flower which grows at the Cape. How boring to be a flower! We did nothing but drill and march and there were so many in the Company that we never got time to pass tests. Again I needed all my resolution just to stick it out.

I was 13½ when my mother died and I returned to Swaziland and to school at St. Marks. After that, in a year we moved to England and I went to a school where there were no Guides. I therefore joined Lones and did a lot of badge work in my spare time like Toymaker, etc., and was working for my First Class. The juniors in the School came to me and asked me to ask the Headmistress please to get Guides started. She was sympathetic and when opportunity occurred and a new Games Mistress arrived, who would become the Captain, Guides started, to the sound of great jeers from the seniors about the gaudy Girl Guides. However, we flourished and I managed to get my First Class. In those days, there were three kinds of First Class. There was the red, which is the same as it is now, there was the green, which was mine without the swimming test - there were no facilities to learn at that school and also in Swaziland the rivers were unsafe. Then the third was the mauve which was for handicapped Guides.

During one holiday I went to Arrowe Park, in Cheshire, England, to the great Scout Jamboree which was in 1929. I had my first sight of the Founder and I saw him blow the Kudu Horn. What mud there was!, for it rained almost the whole time, and the Founder made his rounds on horseback.

I left school and started off raising a Brownie Pack in Dorset, whose dialect I found very difficult to understand. I went to Foxlease to train and liked that very much indeed. And then we moved to Devon, and I started another Brownie Pack also Cubs. I went to Gilwell, thinking it was the same thing as Foxlease, but it wasn't! We were under canvas and we had cold showers!

My most excitement was the "Calgaric" Cruise in 1933 with the Chiefs and their family. We went to the Baltic ports and Scandinavian ports. What a wonderful experience. It was her idea to charter a ship and take Scouters and Guiders to see foreign Scouts and Guides, B-P was a bit taken aback and said 'What will you do if nobody will come? You'll have a whole ship on your hands with nobody in it.' However, she was determined and undeterred she went ahead and hired the "Calgaric". We went to Holland, we went through the Kiel Canal, we went to Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia (these places are now all swallowed by Russia), also to Danzig and to Gdynia. On the quay there was a lone Scout wearing a Swastika on his arm in a Scout uniform. It was

just before Hitler's rise to power. What a wonderful welcome we had everywhere.

We then organised everyone on the ship to respond to welcomes. So when we tied up at any port a Welsh Scouter slipped over the side and conducted from the quay the yell which was to be a special Thing:

Hullo hullo, hullo,

We are here to meet you,

We are here to greet you,

Hullo, hullo, hullo,

C A L G A R I C –

Calgaric!

A preliminary Cub Course was held during the time we were at sea. We had to be occupied doing things and for this Cub Course those who attended were given certificates. I still have mine. We had entertainment, B-P doing an item quite by himself of a Rhodesian/South African scene in the sticks; a man on a farm seeing the dust arising on the horizon and a car coming along, and then chasing a chicken, killing it, cooking it and getting it ready by the time the travellers arrived at the front door, all in mime except for the hen noises. The audience could see the whole thing as if were a reality. He was over 80 then. I remember the thrill of being sent on a message by him, 'Hey you', and a very much alarmed Monica came to receive a message, which was for the Chief Guide. The presents which were showered on us by the Scouts and Guides: the time I was lost in Estonia with some Scouters who did frantic swimming signs with their arms to ask where the sea was, and the amused locals who understood perfectly. What fun
it all was, to see the international side of the Movement and not just to read about it. The Guides camped for a month, not just a week or two, each patrol all sleeping in one bed which took up all the tent space and the bed was made as a camp gadget, with a wonderfully embroidered bedspread on it. The Swedish Boy Scouts rushed to B-P as soon as he landed and seized him and threw him up in the air, and the agonized voice of the Chief Guide saying 'Oh, don't drop him, don't drop him'! All these things I remember very well.

I next went to St. Helena for six months, but I didn't do much Guiding there, though I went and visited the Cubs.

From there I went to Sophiatown, a slum area near Johannesburg, in 1934. I ran two packs of Cubs at different times and two troops of Scouts at different times, and somehow I took my warrant and became a District Captain in the Wayfarer Guides. One memorable day I remember Very well was with Miss Lawrence, making 106 trefoils out of cardboard, and colouring them, and sticking pins into them, when the Wayfarers became Wayfarer Guides, for that very grand day that was to become historic.

In Sophiatown there wasn't any open space where one could have Cub meetings, so I used to march my little boys on to an adjoining kopje. The streets were not made up and after rain, huge pools formed that contained all the dirt imaginable, plus dead dogs and cats. Imagine how I felt when the church bells rang the Angelus and all my boys stopped as one, right beside one of these many pools to say the Angelus. Then the locals used to shout after us 'Ama sojah ka missis' (Soldier on missis)! On another occasion my Scout Troop met in the evening under a lamp post before going into the schoolroom; I found myself one moment with the boys, the next there was not a boy to be seen. Far away down the street I saw Police with long bits of wire, stabbing it into the road to find the soft spots where the skokiaan queens had hidden their drink.

From Sophiatown, with its sharp little urchins, I returned to Swaziland, where I went to a coloured school at St. Michael's Mission to help keep it going. There I started Guides, Scouts and Cubs. I then left and went to help on a farm in the Transvaal, because this was at the time of the war, in order to enable the owner of the farm to join up. So at this time I became Captain of the 1st Transvaal Lone Company and so kept my contact with Guiding. I had Railway gangers' children and all sorts of children in this Company, I remember one African in a place called Taungs used to write and end her letter "In the name of the Father, and of the son and of the Whole Ghost" and sign her name.

The farm was sold and I returned to Swaziland on request to help the Mission at Mbabane. I found the Guides were very flourishing among the European children, so I set to work and started a company of Guides, then Cubs followed and then Scouts. I then was put on the Gilwell Training Team and became Akela Leader and so was able to organise trainings for Scouters in Swaziland also in Johannesburg. Very soon we had troops and companies in most of the main centres of Swaziland.

The next excitement was the Royal visit. It took place when their Majesties, King George VI and Queen Elizabeth with the two Princesses came to Swaziland. I had in the meantime become Territorial Secretary as well and so I had a great deal to do in organising the transport of the children to the spot in Swaziland to which their Majesties were coming. It was very hard work because it was at the time when the rains had started to break, and I was afraid the lorries would stick in the rivers. At the inspection, I was with my Company and my Pack was in the charge of an Assistant, and Princess Elizabeth came and inspected. She was very good at doing this because she talked to the children in the back rows, not only those in the front. Everything went off splendidly, until - horror upon horror - a poor European Company next door to us had a very ancient flag which they had taken out of the church where it had been laid up, for this occasion. It had many moth holes in it but as everybody thought nobody would really look at the thing closely, they paraded with it, but Princess Elizabeth, on coming to the Company, insisted on looking at the colour. The Colour Bearers nearly passed out

I next became Territorial Commissioner and this kept me very busy. The Government were very kind and gave me the use of a car to visit distant places and also free postal services - (our Guide post was free - telephones were free,) and all this was a tremendous help in organising Guides. I had great help from Lady Beetham when she was President.

I was in charge of the contingent which was sent to Cape Town for Princess Elizabeth's Birthday Parade. This consisted of one Swazi, one European and one Scottish Brown Owl, who also ran Cubs and insisted on wearing both bits of uniform together, and I, of course, had strict instructions to see everybody was correctly dressed and I did my best on the train, but what can you do with the Scots??

Imagine my embarrassment having just got off the train in Cape Town (which was late) being hustled off to march down Adderley Street and to notice that my Swazi Guide was bringing with her, clutched very firmly, a large bottle. She was determined to get some sea water, In due course a kind seaman in H,M.S. Vanguard got some up the side in a bucket and filled her bottle for her.

My next excitement was the visit of the Chief Guide, the Chief Commissioner for South Africa and Betty Clay to Swaziland. Wonderful co-operation from the Mbabane L.A. and all over Swaziland, enabled every child able to come, to come to Mbabane, packed so tightly in lorries that they were standing up. We called the gathering 'Jabulani' which means 'Everyone rejoice'. The Chief was coming to us from the Transvaal and we were told that she did not like travelling on bad roads and so would be flown from Johannesburg to Carolina which was on our borders. So I set out to meet her in my best uniform in the Resident Commissioner's car with a very smart chauffeur. On arriving at Carolina we asked the way to the airfield. It was pointed out to us, and behold! A field of waving grass two to three feet high and I was told it hadn't been in use for a long time, and that the local garage had the wind sock. We tore down the street to the garage but the man said they had had the wind sock but they had sent it to Johannesburg for repair! Imagine this! We had fifteen minutes, and no time to argue so we took all the dirty rags from the garage and set off at once back to this airfield. The chauffeur arranged all the rags while I rushed up and down to see if there were any ant bear holes but only found two concrete blocks. We lighted the fire and heard the plane. The smoke was black and evil looking, and terribly smelly, but plenty of it. The plane circled round several times and We decided that if it didn't land here, we would go to Ermelo the next town, where we were sure to have a proper airstrip. But the Dove Pilot decided to make his run in. I shut my eyes, and down she came, with several big bumps. The door opened and a beaming Chief Guide came out as if nothing had happened and embraced a very dirty Territorial Commissioner. The Chief Commissioner, South Africa, was white and shaken, her first flight, and Betty followed, rather pale. So we all got into the car and drove off. The nearest place possible we stopped and had a cup of tea. But it was one of the worst experiences I've ever had, no means at all of communicating with the pilot of the plane.

The rest of the visit was uneventful and everyone did their stuff, even to the Government District Commissioner, crowing like a cock to give the sign to the Sunbeams and Brownies to burst through the Swazi hut to form a ring and give the howl.

The only other incident was, as the Chief was going around, looking at the Companies, a man appeared plus a camera from the side of the crowd where the visitors were looking on, and said in a broad American accent, "Say, what is happening, who are you?", to my horror and amazement The Chief just said, "I am Lady Baden Powell, and I am doing my job, looking at Guides. Would you let me continue."

The Leper Company was brought in on a lorry and stood to attention on it while the Chief spoke to them. It was a wonderful day, but I don't think I'd ever like to organise such a huge affair again. The upshot of it was a few weeks later on, the Chief wrote and asked me if I would go to Tanganyika (as it was then), to help train the Guides there, as the Territorial Commissioner, Mrs. Moffat, was in great need of someone to do training who had had experience with Africans. I leapt at the chance, and got leave from my job for three months, and prepared to go. It was a bit of a shock to South African Headquarters as I hadn't a training certificate or anything and there was no time to do anything about it, so they turned a blind eye most kindly. I caught the ship at Lourenco Marques and got to Beira where we were delayed for five days with cargo so we arrived in Dar-es-Salaam five days late. I was to have been briefed there by Mrs. Moffat. Instead she came out in a launch to the ship and as my name began with a 'W' I was to be the last to disembark, so she yelled instructions to me from the launch while I leaned over the side and tried to take them in. Immediately on landing I was to go to the training and leave fo Tabora, so we continued the briefing in the car going to the station. I was given money, all in shillings, large sums I thought, and off I went, to the absolute unknown. The train was a wood burning one, so not very fast, so I saw a bit of the country going past. Arriving at Tabora, there was no-one to meet me, so I got someone to get my luggage which was very heavy with training equipment and went outside to find a taxi. Fortunately, however, the Headmistress of the Government School turned up, and all was well. I stayed with her for the
duration of this visit.

I trained Africans in Kiswahili and Swazi. Then I trained sari-robed Asians in English. Stalking in African dust in these beautiful garments really went to my heart. I visited Companies, but there were no Packs. I had a wonderful time.

Next I went on a trip to Itigi where I stayed in - Rest House until the bus left. These travelled in pairs to help each other in case of breakdowns, but it was always the other bus that had the tools. We didn't get far before the radiator burst, so we had to go back to Itigi. However, we all got off in the end and I saw this curious tribe called 'The Wagogo' who have these enormous earlobes which they tie behind their necks to keep them out of the way, rather like the Masai. We travelled all night and we arrived at Dodoma where I stayed and trained Asians. From there I went to Iringa by bus. There were no Guides there so I was just catching buses, and I started off again to go to Mbeya. We travelled all night and at 6 a.m. we had a stop, and a nice kind Guide Captain met me and I had a bath and breakfast before going on to Mbeya. Then, horror of horrors, the brakes failed, and on those mountains it was no joke. The driver was obviously used to it and could manipulate his gears, using them instead. I arrived a bit worn out at Mbeya and stayed with the Headmistress of the girls' school there. My Kiswahili was improving and I trained Africans and Asians, and then went to Tukuyu and saw Europeans.

I then caught another bus and I went off to Arusha where I trained Europeans and Asians. Then up to Moshi, where I was put in a tent in the garden of the Guide District Commissioner's house as her house was full with her relations who were visiting here, full of stories about rhinoceros in the vicinity. A tent didn't seem very secure. All Asian girls here, and then I went to Machame to a Government School on the slopes of Kilimanjaro. It was very cold at night here and the mountain was lovely looking like an enormous great plum pudding with a cap of white sauce on top. It was here I had rather an eerie experience, going in a bus again with all the girls to Moshi, for a campfire. Coming back quite late at night, of course the bus stopped again and wouldn't go, for what seemed to me hours. Not understanding what was going on or a word that was said, it was all rather spooky with bamboos rustling and weird night noises, However, at last we got started and arrived home safely.

From here I went off by train to a place whose name escapes me where I arrived in the middle of the night and had to take the bus up into the Usumbari Mountains, to a place called Lushoto. This bus had brakes but no lights, fortunately there was a moon. Lushoto was a very German-looking town. Here I had my first experience with Warrior ants. I was busy in the middle of the training session when, with a yell "siyrfu!" the trainees disappeared, and I saw these terrible ants marching straight through what was the training circle. I also beat a hasty retreat.

From here I went on to a place called Kifangula, lush and green and beautiful, and where the quinine trees grow, and there I stayed at a Coloured Mission of the Roman Catholic Church. I was treated royally and given the Bishop's room where he slept when visiting the Mission, and trained coloured girls.

After this, I came down from the cool of the mountains to the heat of Tanga by train. There I stayed with the Government District Commissioner and his wife, and pookies kept leaping on the roof at night, keeping me awake. One other thing I remember is my host ate Curry for breakfast, turning scarlet in the process. Here I trained Asians of all faiths, and also those in Purdah which were my first lot of Guiders whom I trained in Brownie work, as well as Africans. The heat was terrific and I had a narrow squeak when a coconut fell off a tree under which I was holding a session, and landed beside me with a plop. After that I always chose my places more carefully. I had a wonderful and exhausting time in Tanzania. In between I had days off and was shown the country, everyone was so kind. At a lunch given in my honour, an Indian man, who was a member of the Local Association, fed me with the hottest of kebabs imaginable. I nearly died of it. Also Asian girls showed me the polite way to eat chapattis. This is quite an art.

The children and Guiders everywhere were wonderful and I came away loaded with presents.

I flew from Tanga to Dar-es-Salaam, and an Asian who owned a Sisal plantation allowed me to have his share of luggage allowance, so I was able to have all my books and training equipment and presents free, though these became quite a problem to cart about the country. I stayed in Dar-es-Salaam for a bit of a rest and to report on everything before I finally left for home by air to Lourenco Marques. I was asked to return as a Trainer, but I married instead.

Now came a lull as I went to live near Joro Bolo (Xai Xai) in Mocambique and at that time the Portuguese did not allow Guides. Everyone belonged to the local Youth Movement or Mossadades. However, the hot weather I used to return to Swaziland and stay with my sister, who had taken over the territory as Territorial Commissioner, so I was soon roped in again to do Guiding things, and at that time I was asked to organise something for Lady Helen Gibbs, which was my first meeting with her.

We left Mocambique and returned to Swaziland for a short time where I found myself again in Swazi Guiding. I organised Marcelle de Meulemeester's first training visit. The Chief Commissioner of South Africa, Miss Grant, came on a visit and we had great fun getting a cake iced in blue with a gold trefoil to give to the Queen Mother, Indhloukazi (female elephant) of Swaziland, to whom Miss Grant was to be introduced. She wanted to give her a Supporter's Badge, which was quite a problem. I explained that there was nothing to pin a Supporter's Badge on except goatskin and bare skin, and so she made it into the form of an Order and with coloured ribbon and that was tied round the Queen's neck.

We then moved to Rhodesia (after a holiday in England), where the Chief Guide kindly let us make her apartment at Hampton Court Palace our headquarters. On arriving in Rhodesia we were without a house or anywhere to live so we lived on a farm for a little time and then in a caravan. I was visited by Mrs. Sherry who at once, before I had even got a house to live in, persuaded me to become the first Division Commissioner of Matabeleland North. This Division started at the Victoria Falls and included Wankie, Nyamandhlovu, and then jumped over Bulawayo and continued to Ntabazinduna, Shangani and Inyati. Some Division! I enjoyed it and had a number of adventures. A highlight was Mrs. Wynne's visit to Inyati where we marched round the church behind the Chief Commissioner's standard and flags and sang the old hymn Mr. Sykes had made up from the Triumph song of the Matabele warriors who sang it on return from eating up the Mashonas. He turned it into a Christian hymn. The original was "Nansi indaba yomkonto" - "Here is the matter of a spear" and he turned it into "Nanisi indaba isisemkonto" - "Here is the matter not of a spear" but singing it to the same tune, It was really thrilling hearing it being sung by all the children in a place where it had been first used.

Next was the Chief Guide's visit to Rhodesia. I couldn't get many of my Division together in Bulawayo so I made a flag of various little elephants holding something in their trunks indicating what part of the country and what units were in the Division.

I started Brownies at St. James first, then Guides, then finally Rangers. The latter I ran myself for some time as unlike the other Units I couldn't get anyone to take them over. These Rangers pioneered the feeding scheme that Rhodesia got the Certificate of the Donald Ross Trophy for, it hangs in H.Q. in Salisbury. I then became Division Commissioner of Matabeleland West and started in a small way in the Tjoloto Tribal Trust.

Finally, I got somebody else to take over the Division and started the job of Lones, my present job, together with running a pack of Cubs and being on the Gilwell training team, Matabeleland, as Assistant Akela

After fifty-two years, I feel that as Guiding is a youth movement it is now time for me to hand on, but I hope that for the rest of my life I may remain in contact and help wherever I can, and that I am asked to do so.

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MRS. BARBARA LEA

It was somewhere in the 1950s, and it was only the second Colony inter-racial camp ever to be held in Rhodesia. Four separate camps, all adjacent, were set up in the woods at "Greensyke" Ruwa. There were two European camps as Umtali District had their own camp, as opposed to the Colony European camp.

There was a camp for Coloureds and Asians and a camp for Africans. All went well until the last night. The commandant of the African camp had to leave early, and as they were short of Guiders, after lights out moved from my camp into the African camp. Just as I was crawling into my sleeping bag a great gust of wind like a tornado blew through the camp. I, with the other Guiders, rushed out to tighten up the guy ropes when out of a clear sky came the biggest hail storm on record in that area. 7 inches of hail fell and with the hail gradually tent after tent collapsed on the Guides, many of whom were already asleep. Then down came the rain - this in August when it is not supposed to rain Mr. and Mrs. Wynne (whose farmhouse was about 1/4 mile away) arrived on the scene and offered us the use of their home. Then came the evacuation of over 100 Guides in the freezing cold and rain. Efforts, which were fairly successful, were made to keep blankets dry, and these, with some of the Guides were ferried to the house in the Combi. The big coal stove was lit in the kitchen, hot drinks were made and fires were lit in the lounge and playroom, and eventually all the Guides were bedded down on the floor in various rooms. Round about midnight Mrs. Wynne, who as then Chief Commissioner, and I found ourselves lying on the floor in the lounge sharing a pillow, trying to thaw out, because we had been the last to leave the camp. At that moment we both burst into song, "It was a great day in my life when I joined the Guide Movement".

Next day the camp site looked like a scene from Switzerland with the hail banked high around the trees and those tents left standing. When we left Ruwa by train at midday the hail had still not thawed.

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MRS. ETHEL VON BENECKE

During my time in "the Shop", I have had some strange requests:-

"Please send me two hats size 6 & 7/8ths, one must be bigger than the other." Trefoils have been called "Iron Badges", and "Mental Trefoils", and belts "Skin belts", which gave me an instant mental picture of snake skins, complete with head and beady eyes, daring the Captain to fail the wearer any tests!

What would you guess if you were asked in a letter:- "Please send us some yellow and red, blue and white, red and blue, and pink and white." I knew it wasn't one for the paint shop, and shoulder knots seemed to satisfy.

I was rather startled one day by the request in a letter:-

"We wish to start a Guide Company. Please send a Commissioner and a Uniform." As Commissioners only came in large sizes at that time and we were clean out of large boxes, we sent a letter instead

And then there was the Guider who wanted "24 wriggles".

There have been many good laughs in that Equipment Department

As a Guide myself, fifty years ago, we wore a navy serge skirt, cotton tunic-type blouse of lighter navy and a leather belt. The hat was large and brimmed and we had no special uniform for camp. Most of us only possessed one uniform, so by the end of camp we weren't exactly as fresh as daisies. I remember my father asking me not to sit next to him on the bus home after he had met me at the bus station after a camp!

Our Captain and Lieutenant were keen on camping but not very knowledgeable we usually used to camp on a slope or miles away from a water supply. Our most favoured camping ground was at Matlock in Derbyshire, the farmer nearby was most helpful. One night we had a cloud burst, being camped on the hillside it was quite interesting to see all your belongings go rushing away under the brailings, we never took a spade to dig trenches, this particular night the farmer came along and took us to sleep in a loft over the cottage. This
was used part of the year as a grain storage and the rest of the year as the Rats Playground!... we discovered as they jumped all over us during the night!

At one Camp our Lieut. brought along her large Alsatian dog. During the night cattle wandered the camp. We heard the dog barking and screams from our seniors. It appeared they had tied the dog to the tent pole and the dog had decided to investigate the cattle!

Some years ago we camped at Inyanga. The Captain was our present Chief Commissioner. I was the Q.M. and enjoyed every minute of it. The crows had to be watched all the time, especially round my store tent. One morning we had opened both ends of the tent to let the fresh air through; in flew two crows and out the other end, with one pound of bacon each

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MRS. NIRMALA LAXMAN

I was a Guide in Lusaka (Zambia) at that time. I and my friend were taken into a European Company as there were no other Indian girls old enough to start our own Company.

Once there was a camp being held at Mulungushi, Broken Hill (Kabwe). As I had never been to camp before my enthusiastic Guider persuaded me to come for three days. At camp I told them I was a vegetarian. They said 'fine', but I suspected they were rather worried and wondered how I would exist for the next couple of days. Come supper time; we all sat around a big table outside including a couple of young children who had come with their mother.

Soup plates came around announced as "vegetable soup". It tasted alright but a few brown specks floating on it made me rather suspicious. Everyone was talking and laughing when suddenly one of the tiny girls piped in, "Look Mummy, I have pieces of meat floating in my soup." The mother tried to hush her up and an embarassing silence followed. Needles to say my Guider apologised to me the next morning, not that I was annoyed. Far from it, I could sense their concern for me, a lone Indian Guide amongst them. My Guiders were the kindest, loving and most encouraging ladies ever to be found.

I have always looked back fondly on that camp, firstly because of the soup episode and secondly because I froze with cold at night on the hard uneven ground!

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MRS. MABEL COLEMAN

Ten years ago, the World Chief Guide, Lady Baden-Powell, visited Rhodesia. The itinerary for her visit was planned to take in the larger centres of Rhodesia and Wankie was not on the list of places to be visited. I had only been District Commissioner for Wankie area for a matter of months and had just renewed my acquaintance with the Chief's daughter, the Hon.

Betty Clay, whose home at that time was in Livingstone. On a January evening Mrs. Clay telephoned to say that her mother had expressed a wish to visit Wankie, prior to her official visit to Rhodesia!

Imagine the excitement! And imagine the problems! The date she gave as February 6th, and the African schools didn't start until Jan. 29th. It would be impossible to get in touch with the Guiders until a few days before the visit. No time for any kind of rehearsal because of transport problems. Here was a real challenge, and the Guides and Brownies, Cubs and Scouts rose to the occasion magnificently.

Sir Humphrey Gibbs School was chosen as the venue, as it had a large grassy quadrangle and facilities for making tea in the Domestic Science room. None of the Guiders and Scouters knew the school as it had only been opened the previous year, so every group was sent a plan of the grounds clearly marked with the area they would occupy. Each group was to prepare an activity suitable for the small space allocated to them. All activities were to take place simultaneously and the Chief would visit each group in turn so that no one was left out. At that time there were 7 African Guide Companies, and 7 African Brownie Packs, 1 European Guide Company and 3 European Brownie Packs. We invited the Scouts and Cubs from all over the District, so it was essential that instructions were followed in detail or chaos would result.

We had recently received our District Colours from Guide Headquarters in London (no sanctions then!) and the Chief was asked if she would officially present our new colours.

The Colliery Company gave us a small replica of a miner's lamp to give to the Chief as a memento of her visit.

At 11 a.m. on the Wednesday I took the old strip-road out of No. 2 Village and went to meet our visitors at a pre-arranged spot on the old Falls Road so that I could guide them into Wankie. The grass between the strips was long and the little Mini was brushing grass all the way. At that time we had the only Mini in Wankie! I felt that something larger and more dignified would have fitted the occasion better. However, the Chief jumped out of her daughter's car and insisted that she came with me in the Mini, said she'd never had the chance of driving in one before! I'd only had a driving
licence for two months so she probably found my answers to her questions almost incoherent!

We arrived at the Guest House, via Four Mile Drive, and left our visitors there to rest before lunch. Lady B.P. asked if she could have a pre-vlew of the Miners Lamp and I promised to bring it in when we collected her to go to the Baobab Hotel for lunch. She was due to address the Rotary Club. I fetched my husband from Sir Humphrey Gibbs School and we were all ready to go into Wankie again when he decided that there was something at school he must have. "Only a couple of minutes," he said Ten minutes later I went to look for him. We had five minutes left to get to the Guest House and he was on one side of the railway line and I was the other, with the usual coal trucks shunting in between!

We did manage to get the Chief to the Boabab in time. She gave one of her inimitable talks, prefaced by the words, "Look at me! I'm a museum piece!" She is a brilliant speaker and held her audience without effort.

At 2.30 we came again to the Guest House to collect the Chief for the Rally.

When we reached the school, Guides and Scouts lined the path and gave her a rousing welcome. Everything seemed to be going without a hitch when the Hon. Betty Clay informed me in a whisper that the Miner's Lamp had been left at the Guest House. Off went my son to make the fourth trip into Wankie in the Mini, and he arrived back in time for the lamp to be presented without anyone being the wiser.

The ladies of the local association prepared tea and had an opportunity to meet the Chief and talk to her. The children were supplied with cool drinks in the quad and when we rejoined them I was delighted to find that not a bottle or bottle top was in sight. Quite an achievement, with about 200 youngsters.

In the evening Lady Baden-Powell and her daughter dined with the General Manager and his wife, and the following morning they left for the return journey to Livingstone.

It had been a visit to remember, and proof that, given the opportunity our young people do rise to a challenge.

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1963 - THE CHIEF IS COMING

The Chief, the Chief is really coming

To this Southern mining town.

For weeks the Guide folk have been planning,

Rallies, lunches, up and down.

The Chief, the Chief is really coming,

Invitations - presentations, all must be done,

Guides, Scouters, Local Officials,

Must be included - every one.

The Chief, the Chief is really coming,

Our own beloved 'Lady B-P'.

Guides, Scouts, Cubs, Brownies rose so early,

To ensure they were really as smart as can be.

The Chief, the Chief is really coming.

The "Great Day" has arrived - At last.

Flurry, hurry to the venue

All is ready for a grand march past.

The Chief, the Chief is really coming,

How smart the children on parade,

Cameras snap - fond Mothers smile.

Long will it be 'ere this memory shall fade.

The Chief, the Chief is really coming,

The crowd's chatter drops to just a hum.

Slowly, seriously, young Guides entering

See the Colour Party come.

The Chief, the Chief has really come here.

All eyes watching, break the Colour

Give a sharp tug - hope it’s the right way

What's this tumbling, tumbling downwards

Oh: Horror!

The Chief, the Chief, she was so tactful,

Whispers to the Colour Party "Carry on, carry on,

Put the flag on your shoulder -

We'll put it back later

The rope was too old; it has been there too long."

The Chief, the Chief, it’s long since she attended

The rally in that small Southern mining town.

But many will always remember her with fondness

On the day that our World Flag came tumbling down!

Mrs. Pamela Difford

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