Chapter 5 - A Race in Freedom
There is a grand spirit of determination about those Scouts and Guides of France, just as there is with most of the members of our family that I come across. They appeared to have said to themselves ; Whatever the weather, and even if we cannot go to camp for long, at any rate we will go camping for a day.'
And so it WAS a day, and off they went to hold a sort of Scouting day ' in the grounds of the Chateau de Sillery some miles outside Paris.
Scouts and Guides, and Wolf Cubs and Brownies went pouring out there by trains and trams and buses and bicycles, and all had their own chosen camp ground allotted to them, where they made their own fires, cooked their own food, dumped their extra clothing, and had their own special activities.
I did a tour round to each in tum, and at each I was greeted by howls and yells, songs and dances, actings and displays, all of a most varied kind.
There was not one that didn't show some special interesting character of its own. One of the Scouts' turns ' was hair raising, as it consisted of a First Aid RACE ! To my way of thinking First Aid should be done steadily and most carefully, but this time I saw quite another method.
Each Patrol in turn had to run to the scene of the ' accident,' find the wounded person, make a stretcher, bandage up the damaged body, and then run to a given goal.
One after another these competing stretcher parties came hurtling down through the wood, dodging trees and tearing between bushes, turning corners in the path at break-neck speed, and I trembled for the patient's comfort and even for his safety.
Actually, though it was a bit reckless and I wouldn't recommend it, it was most amusing, as a lot of ingenuity was shown in the construction of the stretchers, and the patients were thoroughly enjoying themselves as they were being rushed full tilt along the track through the wood. One after the other competing Patrols went crashing through the undergrowth, arriving breathlessly at the winning post, and, I could not make out how this unique form of race was going to be judged.
The whole caboodle of stretchers and patients were carefully
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inspected, but then the secret of success came out, in the carefully planned final test. Each patient had carried a bowl of
water in his hand, and so the Patrol carrying the Scout who had spilled the least amount of water out of his bowl was judged the winner.
Over and above this great day in camp, my stay in Paris was very well filled with one inspiring function after another.
Three thousand Patrol Leaders gave me a stunning reception in the great hall of the famous college called the Sorbonne ; I visited Extension Guides in hospitals ; I enrolled Brownies (Jeannettes) ; I met Councils and Committees ; I talked with Commissioners ; I had meals with Scouters ; and I just went from engagement to engagement without pause, each day filled with the encouraging information of what Scouts and Guides have done, and are doing.
How proud one feels at the way our Movement has all gone on ; and it seems incredible, doesn't it, that in spite of all the difficulties and the handicaps of the times, it has doubled its numbers in recent years in some countries.
And the spirit of its members as I met them is so vigorous and so fine. They care so deeply about doing their Scouting and their Guiding in the way that the Founder meant them to. They think and they read and they talk and they discuss about ' B-P.' such a lot ; and they take the ideals that he gave to us right into their daily lives, and they find that it helps them to tackle their tasks.
I had one letter which I think I may quote, and the writer—if she ever reads this—will forgive me for putting it before you, to illustrate what I mean.
I had written her a little note, and in her reply she says :
'The meetings at Sillery has very much enjoyed me. The name of my equipe (Patrol) is Beaver. I like very much this worky animal, but I have never seen one. During your travels with B-P. perhaps did you saw some one ? My equipe too like the Nature, birds, flowers and so on. So we love the Creator more and more.
I make you my bow respectful and grateful, because thanks to you I have the happy luck of making Scouting. Excuse this very bad English language.'
'Bad English language' indeed ! Could you express, in a language other than your own, just such telling remarks in a letter to warm the cockles of my heart ?
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