CHAPTER II
MARCH OF THE FIFTY THOUSAND

The jamboree opened on the afternoon of July 31, 1929, in Arrowe Park, outside the town of Birkenhead. This town is situated on the west coast of England just below Liverpool.

We marched into the park with the American flag at the head of our column All of us were excited when 'we began to see Boy Scouts of other countries standing here and there along the road. Some of them waved and shouted at us. They all grinned as if they knew how glad we were to be there.

Suddenly the road widened and a magnificent cent spectacle spread out before our eyes. were standing at the highest point of Arrowe Park. just ahead of us was a big field, several times larger than a football field and flanked by grandstands for visitors.

Beyond this field wide flat grassy plains stretched out almost as far as we could see. On the green surface of the plains were thousands of, tents looking like small dots spread over a piece of velvet cloth. To our surprise the tents were of many different sizes and colors, showing that our American ones are not used in foreign countries. Beyond the tents rose rolling wooded hills that are characteristic of the English countryside.

It was wonderful to realize that these thousands of tents were to be the homes of boys from all over the civilized globe for the next two weeks. And it was still more wonderful to feel that those boys were our Brother Scouts. For the first time in the lives of some of us we felt the deep meaning of our Boy Scout organization.

It was difficult to tear ourselves away from the view when we got the order to move on. But now we were led by a couple of British Rover Scouts and we wanted to see where they were taking us. About a quarter of an hour later we entered an enclosure that was marked with a big sign: "BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA!"

The camp was practically all ready for our use. Tents had been put up in advance so there was only little work for us to do to make ourselves comfortable. In a couple of hours we had our cots fixed, our ticks filled with straw and our lunch well under way.

We felt we were the luckiest fellows on earth. Even when it began to rain a few minutes after our arrival we didn't mind. Wasn't. rain a part of our adventure?

There was a great bustle in the American camp. During the last few days group after group had been arriving, some directly from the U. S. A.; some from trips through England and Scotland; others from trips on the continent. But now they were all here, making ready for the Grand Opening.

We had just time to swallow a few bites of our luncheon before excited signals called us to the parade ground within the American Camp. From all the tents we came streaming and in a few minutes ranks had formed. We were lined up in Troops with national flags and Troop flags fluttering.

All the American camp officials were there. We saw them standing outside headquarters tent. Among others were James E. West, our Chief Scout Executive; Daniel Carter Beard.. our own "Uncle Dan"; National Scout Commissioner G. Barrett Rich, our Camp Chief; and Lorne W. Barclay his able executive.

Another shrill signal, and the whole American contingent was on its way to the Arena which lay up Kingsway, as the main camp street was called.

Now from every part of the great encampment columns of boys came marching to music and singing as they moved toward the big central field or Arena before the grandstands.

When we arrived in the Arena everything was wet and dismal. The air was foggy, with a thin soaking of rain. But as we waited the sun suddenly burst through the clouds and started to shine gloriously. Off came our rain coverings and we got our first real look at the uniforms of the Boy Scouts of the World.

From our post on the field we could see nearly every country represented. There were boys from Palestine in long white robes; German scouts clad in brown shirts and black corduroy breeches; Scottish scouts tricked out in plaid kilts of many hues; Danish boys in khaki and blue; even boys from far-away India, dark-skinned and turbaned.

More than fifty thousand scouts were finally assembled. Thousands of visitors surrounded them, making a thick wall all about. Scouts of all nations were standing behind us many layers deep. Some were sitting in front of us on the grandstand. This structure had big canvas-covered galleries above which waved the flags of all the countries represented. Airplanes flew over our heads, of ten swooping down perilously close to the ground.

Suddenly there was a stir in the masses. In one corner of the field a murmur started, which soon rose to a great cheer.

"There he comes!" somebody yelled right behind us.

A moment later on the small platform in front of the grandstand appeared the Chief Scout of the World, Sir Robert S. S. Baden-Powell. With him was the Duke of Connaught, uncle to King George. The Duke represented the King at our great gathering. Slowly the roar of cheers diminished. Baden-Powell lifted to his lips the horn of a South African kudu (antelope) and from its twisted form burst the notes of welcome which officially opened the World jamboree of 1929.

This kudu horn had a real history. It was captured during the South African campaign by Baden-Powell from a Zulu chief who had used it to summon the braves of his tribes to war. Baden-Powell brought it home with him to England and one morning in the summer Of 1907 it sounded again, this time for a challenge on Brownsea Island in the English Channel. It called to action a number of boys who had come together in the first Boy Scout camp in the world. Their experiment on that little island proved successful; and early in 19o8 it resulted in the first Boy Scout Movement. Now it sounded again-twenty-one years later. The Movement has come of age and the kudu war horn of the Zulu called a message of peace to the boys of the world.

The echoes had scarcely died away when the parade of the nations started. There was stir in the front rows. Slowly and ponderously the fifty thousand scouts got underway, marching twenty-five abreast in practice step.

America came first. Keeping exact time the troops moved forward to the music of a big band situated in the center of the Arena. When American flags approached the reviewing stand "The Star Spangled Banner" burst forth. That was a thrill! Hearing the national anthem in a foreign land made quivers race up and down our spines.

A quiet command was given and, as we reached the stand where Sir Robert and the Duke of Connaught stood at attention, thirteen hundred American boys jerked miniature silk Stars and Stripes from their pockets and waved them in greeting. A roar of applause broke out from the spectators.

Australia followed the American delegation. Then came Armenia and Austria, Barbados and Belgium in alphabetical order. Czechoslovakians marched by with their hands raised in greeting. The Danes marched by with their fluttering red and white shoulder knots. Then came boys from Finland followed by the flag of St. George. England was there ten thousand strong, a splendid sight!

Still they came. France with more than two thousand boys with flags and staffs; Hungary with the grass of their country's prairie waving like white plumes in their hats; Egypt, Norway, Palestine, Sweden. You read the signs carried in front of each contingent as so many names in a geographical index. Brazil, Chile, Germany, Hong Kong, India, Japan, Switzerland! It made you think of the magician back home pulling rabbit after rabbit out of his silk hat.

With the sun shining brightly the hundreds of waving flags and banners made a brilliant picture. But there was more to it than just a picture. It was a glorious inspiration to see fifty thousand boys with the same Scouting ideals and the same goals all doing honor to their fine old chief.

As troop after troop filed by Baden-Powell still stood there on the platform reviewing that vast peace army of boys. Every once in a while, when his kind face lit up in a happy smile, a lump must have risen in many throats. Certainly we could all see and feel what this parade meant to him. Twenty-one years before he had started this great Scout Movement. Today, in the thousands of boys that marched before him he saw his great dream come true.

At last the parade was over. It had lasted fully an hour. Now, his Royal Highness the Duke of Connaught, the President of the British Boy Scout Association since the start, stepped forward on the platform.

"Boys," he said, "we are assembled here today to celebrate the coming of age of a great social movement, whose far-reaching and world-wide influence no man can adequately measure. Beginning twenty-one years ago who would then have imagined that the small camp at Brownsea Island would one day and within a generation, number two millions, embracing lads of every country, of every race, and of every creed-all imbued with the same high ideals and all carrying aloft the same banners of mutual service and brotherhood.

"It is a very ennobling spectacle, which will assuredly leave its mark on the future of mankind, and to which statesmen of a later day will bear willing testimony. With the enthusiasm of youth, these lads are marching forward to a self-reliant manhood, eager and willing to snatch the torch of progress which feebler hands lay down and to bear their part in their burden of the world's work.

"One word more: Always treasure the memory of this great day; hold fast to your faith and keep the Scout Law."

As the Duke's speech ended a long cheer of applause rolled over the arena. This cheer was a pledge to keep faith with what the Duke had said. When its echo died away, the Chief Scout of the World lifted his hands as a greeting and from all corners the cheering again started. There was a rush forward of boys, flags and totems. They came running, boys from all the world, to stand close to their Chief and listen to his words.

Now Baden-Powell himself spoke. He told us of the little acorn of Brownsea which has grown into the sturdy oak of Arrowe Park. He spoke of former Jamborees, of brotherhood and high ideals.

Eagerly we listened to his words. We felt as if we were around a camp fire listening to our favorite story-teller. And how he could talk. He made us feel what he was saying as well as hear it!

He explained how this great jamboree had come into being:

"You know," he said, "when it was first thought of we asked each country to send fifty boys to form this little camp. Well, a certain country (I won't mention any names) telegraphed a reply at once and said, 'Yes, we are sending fifty boys and two thousand besides!' And that has been the case with most of the entries. They have all brought along their fifty and added about five hundred more to it! The consequence is that instead of having two thousand or so we have more than fifty thousand of you!

"Well, we are mighty glad to see you; and I am sure you are mighty glad to see each other."

Baden-Powell stopped for a moment and looked up. Clouds were again gathering and obscuring the sky., Then he continued with a smile:

"But I don't like you all to feel too happy so I turned on the rain for your benefit. You see, any bloke can be a good Scout on a fine day. But the thing is to make the best of conditions on a bad day. So we tried the rain this morning to see how you would take it. I am glad to say that you are made of the right stuff through and through!"

Baden-Powell had finished. We had listened to him, smiled with him, laughed with him.

Now a roar broke forth. Thousands of boys joined in the cheer for their chief:

B-P! B-P!
Baden-Powell, Baden-Powell!
Chief-Chief-Chief
Rah! Rah! Rah!

Baden-Powell received the cheer with fine old eyes shining. Then he descended from the platform with the Duke of Connaught and disappeared.

And thus was started the third World jamboree at Arrowe Park, Birkenhead, England, on Wednesday, July 31st, in the year 1929.

Contents		Chapter III

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