Chapter 6 - Jamboree of Tomorrow
Written on the list of days for my visit to France was just the bare bald statement : 'Tour Normandy for Three Days.' When the time came, those days became some of the most impressive that I have ever spent anywhere before.
The Chief Scout of France, General Lafont, as I have already explained to you is, in his capacity of Head of Scoutisme Fran-cais,' also the super-head of the Guides too, and—happily—he is in many ways very like our Founder, both in his career and in his character.
Like him he was an ardent cavalry officer, and passionately fond of horses, and keen about the care and training of them and of their riders, too.
He is upright and slight of build, vigorously energetic about exercise, with a quick eye for every detail ; and he gets up very early in the morning, so as not to waste any time, and to get work done before other people are about.
He loves his home and would like to spend his time there in the country with his family, but he is filled with a very deep sense of duty to his country, and—again like our Founder—having served his own home-land as a soldier for the first half of his life, he has now shed his military duty and is serving France in what we might think is an even greater way than ever.
He feels that through working for the extension of Scouting and Guiding, he can help more girls and boys to grow into the best of citizens and citizenesses ' for their country, and just as he has shown himself formerly to be a gallant leader of men, he is now a grand leader for boys—and girls, too.
And so he works awfully hard, and takes on arduous tasks, and our tour through Normandy proved to be pretty strenuous as well as being so wonderful.
We started off from Paris early, to visit the site in the heart of the Foret de Moissons, which is being got ready for the next great World Jamboree. It was hoped that this might take place in 1946, but it has had to be postponed until 1947 because Scout contingents are expected to attend from all ends of the world, and transport for probably about 30,000 Scouts cannot be provided until then.
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The site lies in a great bend of the River Seine, with high white chalky cliffs on the opposite bank ; there is an island for Sea Scouts to play with, and acres of wide open land, dotted with trees which will make it ideal for each national contingent to make its own complete camp, according to its own desires.
I was thrilled to be the first Guide to walk about on the place which will—eventually—be such a historic Scouts' meeting place.
The next engagement that day was rather blighted. Owing to various delays we did not reach our rendezvous in time to see the Scouts, who had mustered in a little town called Vernon. This place has been cruelly hurt in the war, and a large part of it lies in ruins. We called on the Scoutmaster, who is the local dentist, and a very much sought after man, who came running out to greet us.
In we went for a nice talk, and then photographs had to be taken of the party ; and just as we were about to take our leave after somewhat prolonged good-byes, his wife clutched him by the arm, imploring him to come quickly because his patient was still sitting in his dentist's chair upstairs—we presume open-mouthed and gasping !
Hurrying on to LOUVIERS we were waylaid at the outskirts of the town. A rather battered motor stood in the middle of the road, with Scout hats, Patrol Flags and Troop Colours sticking out at all angles from the sides and back, and many excited Scouts squeezed into its inside.
Its mission was to pilot us to a little orchard, where some Scouts and Guides were all awaiting us. After a brief inspection and talk we sped on our way, pleased and proud of this fine, jolly group which has carried on for years, keeping their flags flying. Outside Elbeuf other kindly preparations had been made, and about a dozen Scout cyclists were there to escort us to the centre of the town, just as a dismal storm began to descend upon us.
Here several hundred Scouts and Guides were wisely keeping under cover, and as we drew up they all rushed out, round the War Memorial statue in front of the Town Hall, forming themselves quickly into a Rally, shaped like a wheel, each ' spoke ' being a section of the Movement—Louveteaux, Guides, Jeannettes, Eclaireuses, Routiers, Petites Ailes and Scouts.
Quickly I rushed round to snatch a hurried glimpse of each ' spoke ' in tum, urging each block then to run for shelter when it had been looked at.
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This sort of sudden rain, trying to spoil the fun, happens so often, and how our Rallies do suffer from the vagaries of the weather. I know that Guiders feel that their Companies and Packs, having got there for the great occasion, and being ' on parade ' so to speak, must ' stick it out ' and that it is infra dig. to rush off and take shelter and/or put on coats.
To me it appears in a different light, and when the rain comes and pours down on waiting Guides, I feel awfully worried, and I can't bear to see them getting soaked, simply because they Must look their best !
Naturally I know that, of course, we look FAR nicer standing out all spick and span in rows and without things covering up our badges and insignia.
BUT, when it is a question of getting one's only uniform spoilt, or of being far from home and not able to get into other clothes, then I would far rather see common-sense ' coating-up ' and common-sense crowding in under cover !
So, at Elbeuf we hustled under the gateway arches of the Town Hall, the Chief Scout and I laid flowers at the base of the War Memorial, and off we sped on our journey, with the cheers of Elbeuf ringing in our ears.
We were getting very delayed in our journey, and the gusts of rain had now turned to gusts of sleet. Gaily my companions made light of these, which are like our ' April Showers,' but as they usually come earlier in France, they are called Giboulee de Mars.'
Hastening across a wild stretch of common land, we were again waylaid. No ! It was more than that ! We were ' ambushed,' for a barricade of branches of trees on a rope was drawn across the road to bar our way, and there was a cheery Troop of Scouts forming a rough and tumble guard of honour,' leading into a wee encampment snuggled into the bushes off the road.
A tiny tarpaulin shelter was rigged up, mossy seats were arranged at a low camp table of sods of earth, and a kettle was boiling on the fire, and cakes and tea appeared as if by magic.
We knew we were fearfully late, and ought not to have stopped, but who could withstand so Scouty a welcome, or refuse such a surprise bit of friendly hospitality ?
And so, we were very late, in our arrival that evening at Rouen —and I will tell you about that in the next chapter.
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