Frederick S., Boy Scout

Here I am standing on the Stevenston foreshore in the Fall of 1947 resplendent in my Boy Scout uniform, which in Scotland could include the kilt. The one I am wearing here is of the Seaforth Highlander tartan and was a hand-me-down from my cousin Ian Kerr. The scout belt that I wore (indeed still wear) is an authentic British Boy Scout clasp belt which I bought from Tommy Gilmour for five shillings. It has the Scout motto (Be Prepared) inscribed at the top of the clasp and at the bottom tiny carvings of the floral emblems of the 4 natons which make up Great Britain. My father put new leather on the belt. The shirt is actually one of Alex Leslie's discarded Royal Air Force shirts which my mother died khaki. The reason for reusing old clothing was that Britain in 1947 was still under wartime rationing of clothing, cakes, candies and coal.

How did I come to join the Scouts? I think it was my Uncle Willie Reid who invited me to join – he was the Assistant Scoutmaster and I was a frequent visitor to his and Aunt Sarah's home on Sunday evenings. Their own son (John Reid ) died c.1934, and they enjoyed seeing me reading Gulliver's Travels and other classics which they had bought for him. My father didn't encourage me much in my scouting activity – he thought it was a military organization designed to fight for the Upper Classes, Capitalism and the Monarchy.

I enjoyed the comradery of Scouting but didn't do much with merit badges – they were more difficult to get than their U.S. counterparts. I liked hikes into the country, wide games, singing around the campfire, doing a good deed daily and involvement in the "Bob-a-Job" project (a Bob is a shilling). I also made good friends – Gordon Hutton, Raymond Stark and John Cochrane. We went to movies as a group and played a sort of rugby on the Stevenston shore. One warm day in the summer of 1948 a few of us went along the Ardeer shore and took to "skinny dipping" in the surf.

Eventually I became a Patrol Leader and had some good times introducing new tenderfoots to scouting. Harry Cooper was our troop leader and artist. When I left for America he hand cast a figurehead of a curlew for me – I still have it. Dennis Dawson was the Assistant Scoutmaster, and I admired him for his intelligence and his prowess in sports.

All in all, my experience as a Boy Scout was very positive and it did much to mold my value system – it was a good substitute for the lack of church involvement.


I look as if I were twelve, but I'm really sixteen.