THE SCOUT JAMBOREE BOOK
American Scouts at the 3rd World Jamboree

The Prince of Wales visits the Camp greeting Iraqi Scouts

CHAPTER V
THE PRINCE OF WALES

NOW came the greatest day of the Jamboree. We were up early and, after a short morning parade, we hustled along getting the camp into the best of order.

The Prince of Wales was due at noon!

For once the weather promised to stay good but the mud was at its worst after a solid night of rain. Shoes had to be polished, uniforms brushed, cameras filled with new films. There was easily enough for everybody to do.

We felt sorry for the boys who were on orderly and cook duty for the day. They didn't expect to see much of the Prince. Still there wasn't anything to be done about it. We all had to take fate as it came. So the cooks went to the kitchen while the others went to the in gaped at each other in surprise and disappointment when it rustled by-empty! just then a Scout came running right through the exhibition tent up to Mr. Rich and said: "Mr. West asks you to come right away. The Prince is coming in through the back door!"

Mr. Rich gave a signal that said, "Follow me" and we were in a moment all on the run up to Headquarters tent at the top of our parade ground. We just arrived when the Prince, led by a couple of British officials together with "B.-P." appeared around the corner of one of our camp streets.

On the parade ground the whole American contingent was lined up to greet the distinguished guest. All eyes that had been gazing toward the main entrance now suddenly turned in the opposite direction. Everybody wanted to get a glimpse of the Prince. All over the place cameras were clicking.

"There he comes!" exclaimed several boys at once.

His uniform was that of an English Scoutmaster. In his faded corduroy shorts and with a neckerchief around his neck he looked a real Scout. No wonder that the British are proud of this independent, simple, natural young man. He won the hearts of all the American Scouts the minute he entered our camp.

Accompanied by a rousing cheer the Prince walked up to the headquarters tent where he was greeted by the American officials. Mr. Mortimer Schiff, our International Commissioner, stepped up to him. "Sir," he said, "the Boy Scouts of America feel themselves honored to be privileged to confer upon your Royal Highness, their highest award for Distinguished Service to Boyhood, the Silver Buffalo."

And all of us cheered as the Silver Buffalo, in its beautiful red and white silk ribbon, was put around the Royal neck.

Then, to the surprise of everybody, the Prince asked for an American Scout from Rochester, New York. The boy was called up and had a short talk with the Scout Prince. We later found out that the meeting had been arranged through the great golf player, Walter Hagen, and that the boy was the Junior Champion of the Rochester Golf Country Club.

In five minutes the Prince was on his way to visit other camps and the parade was disbanded.

As we walked back to the tents we felt rather sorry for the cooks because they didn't get a chance to see our prominent visitor while the rest of us had almost rubbed arms with him. We didn't get very far though before we heard a yell behind us. A boy Scout cook came rushing after us in his white apron and with his cook's cap on his head.

"Gosh, that was funny!" he said as he came nearer. I He was smiling all over while he told us what it was that was so funny.

"You know," he went on, "just as I was stirring the custard in our largest dixie, and Merritt was asking Bassett how in Sam Hill you cook custard, and Bassett was saying howcome to me, the big parade of British Scouts came walking right through our cookery. I turned around to see them better, and then, oh, so obligingly flattened myself against the table to let them pass.

"But Merritt wasn't so kind about it, and he was about to say, 'Hey you fellows, you've got a lot of nerve to come wading through our kitchen!' when some small voice stopped him. It was well it did!

"In a twinkling the whole procession had disappeared around a corner and so I turned to an English Scout who was standing outside in the alley and asked 'What the dickens was that mob doing?' "

" 'That mob!' he said, and I could just see him sniff at me. 'Why, that was the Prince of Wales, with Sir Robert, on an unofficial tour of inspection!'

"Jumping jiminy! Wouldn't it just have been nice if we had thrown them out!"

In the afternoon there was a formal parade for the Prince in the Arena. It was just as impressive as the one on the opening day and the Prince made a wonderful speech about good sportsmanship. Part of it we liked best of all. This part was:

"The British way of expressing the idea which lies behind the Scout Movement is to say that 'Scouting breeds true sportsmanship.' But sportsmanship isn't an easy word to define. It means straight-dealing and playing the game. It means self-reliance, and at the same time, team-work-playing for your side, and not for yourself, winning without 'swank'; losing without bad temper. And it also means thoughtfulness and making allowances for others. It is an idea of loyalty, and of service. The one thing it hates like poison is selfishness.

"I think the Scout Movement is a great thing for individual Scouts, for the manhood of individual countries, and more than all, for the development between different nations of understanding and goodwill in the place of suspicion and selfish antagonism.

"To you, Scouts, I say: 'Go ahead, stick to your Scouting, make yourselves as efficient as you can; be good friends with your Brother Scouts from other countries, and when you are older don't forget the comradeship of your Scouting days.' "

The most impressive part of the parade was the Prince's reading of a letter from his father, King George, whom he was representing. In this letter the King sent greetings to the Scouts of the world; but he did more than that. He conferred a peerage upon the Chief Scout of the World. Sir Robert Baden-Powell became Lord Robert of Gilwell!

This announcement was greeted with loud cheers because we all realized that an honor had thereby been conferred not only upon the Chief but upon every single member of the Movement.

You see," said B.-P., the new peer of England, "the King couldn't very well make every

Scout into a baron, so he decided to give it to me who happens to be the figurehead of the Movement!"

The big event came to an end with the huge happy assembly promptly answering their Chief's call for "Hats on staves-three cheers for the King!" Next came "Three cheers for the Prince of Wales." The Scouts added three more for "Baden-Powell" himself.

The Prince of Wales' parade was over and with flags and banners waving the many contingents of Scouts returned to their camps. The American crowd had hardly entered their gateway before another prominent visitor arrived. This time it was the American Ambassador General Dawes, who had come up the whole way from London with his son, Dana, to take part in the jamboree. They were especially eager to get hold of the Scouts from Evanston, Illinois, the home town of General Dawes. There were a couple of boys from his town and about twenty from the neighboring parts. The Ambassador spent a pleasant time with them during his stay. Afterwards he braved the mud of the jamboree and went out to visit camps of other lands.

We had hoped that the Ambassador would have been able to stay in the American Camp for the night. A tent was made up f or him; but unfortunately urgent business called him back to London.

The following day, Saturday, August 3rd, brought hordes of visitors, but none of any special significance. The reason was that the weather wasn't inviting. It was stormy and the rain came pouring down. The phrase "Raining again!" was replaced by the much more fitting "Still raining!"

Sunday brought us three visitors of prominence. The Archbishop of Canterbury and Cardinal Bourne came to conduct two Thanksgiving services; and in the afternoon the new Lord Robert paid a visit to the American Camp.

Rain fell in sheets while many more American boys went over to the Arena for the service. The roads and the Arena itself were masses of mud. Such "nice" mud, as the saying went. But most considerately, the rain slackened about the time the services began and the sun peeped through wet clouds.

That Sunday's service must have been one of the most unusual an Archbishop ever conducted. Here were representatives from all corners of the world, from all races of the globe, gathered in worship. They hung on his words when he addressed them and after the service saluted him with round upon round of cheers.

The service started at eleven, with the Archbishop's procession preceded by the flags of the nations while a hymn was sung..

The lesson was read and a clear resonant voice recited the Scout Law while we all stood at the alert. The Lord's Prayer was repeated in unison by the whole vast congregation, each boy saying it in his own tongue.

Now the Archbishop of Canterbury stood before us. He read some verses from the Bible, and when he came to the passage, "The Lord is with thee, thou mighty man of valor," he placed his hand in blessing on the Chief Scout's head and in doing so upon the head of each Scout listening to him. Then he continued:

"This is the fourth of August. It is impossible to forget that on this very day, fifteen years ago, this realm was drawn into the Great War, which for four years darkened the earth. God forbid that I should recall the bitter memories of that awful time. I only speak of it because today we see coming forth from its shadow this great army of youth of all nations pledged to the spirit of peace -and goodwill among men. It passes into you and lays hold of you through the instinct of comradeship one with another. The true spirit of the Scout comes from another world than that in which men push and strive for themselves. It comes from a world where honor and truth and unselfishness and brotherhood rule, the world whose name is the Kingdom of God.

"We may not see our King, but he is among us. There is no leader, no comrade, more worth following than this perfect knight who went out alone on the most splendid adventure in human history to win by the mere might of his self-sacrifice a place for God's Kingdom in the hearts of men. I know that by following Him each true-hearted Scout would keep the spirit committed to his trust."

A hymn followed and then our Chief spoke.

He spoke of our brotherhood and our Scout Law. He asked us to lower our flags and bow our heads and think for a moment of our Oath. "On my honor I will do my best. . . ." He

asked us to try in our daily life to be good Scouts. "By doing so," he said, "every one of you, no matter how small, or young, or weak, can help to bring about the greatest thing in this world-the bringing about of God's Kingdom and of peace and goodwill among men.

"You have that power!" he continued, raising his voice. "When you go forth, be determined to carry out your Scout promise more faithfully than ever before. Scouts, I ask you, will you do it?"

And through the rain that was now beating down in torrents our reply sounded as with one voice: "I WILL!"

it was a pledge of the youth of the world.

The service was over and we walked home rather quietly.

In the afternoon there was a great commotion outside the American camp. In half a minute a big crowd had gathered and cheer after cheer went up. When we ran out to see what it was all about we found a gray-haired smiling gentleman mounted on a beautiful chestnut brown horse.

It was B.-P. himself. The Chief Scout of the World had come to visit America!

He had tried to make the camp in a car but had been forced to give it up when he found out that only by the help of a tractor could his car proceed through the Arrowe Park mud. So he had chosen a horse for his trip "around the world."

He rode through our camp up to the main headquarters' tent and was received by the American leaders. Then, suddenly, there were two downpours on the head of the Chief. One from the clouds above, the other of gifts that seemed suddenly to appear from everywhere.

Uncle Dan Beard brought forth a magnificent buckskin shirt with the Buckskin badge painted on it and presented it with a little speech. It was received with enthusiasm. B.-P. put it on immediately. "Exactly what I have been needing all day long," he said.

There were many other gifts: a painting, a rack of wood specimens, lanyards, stuffed alligators, pressed flowers; even a ten-foot totem pole and a replica of the medal given to Lindbergh by the Saint Louis Chamber of Commerce were included.

The whole American contingent pressed around cheering and smiling. Cameras were clicking all the time. Some Scouts standing on the sidelines suddenly called "Mister Powell." As he turned at the familiar sound of his name with the unusual prefix his picture was immediately snapped by the enterprising boys. B.-P. smiled broadly.

Then he went to his horse and as he mounted he said: "It certainly is a long way up, but you can get a fine view of the Scouts when you are up here!"