Mind the Eggs

It was Saturday 2nd August, the place Stockwell Park Crescent, the time 8.00 hours, the theme "Mind the Eggs". It was rather good to see the bigger boys sweating away under Skip's sole direction moving the gear out of the Cabin, down the Avenue and eventually onto the lorry. Then Peter Kastercum turned up.

The trail to Maidstone proved to be littered with bodies; Teddy Boys who didn't know Dulles could throw empty mineral bottles like that and motorists who were so amused by the antics of (glove puppet) Sooty that they ran into the bank or ditch, whichever was handy.

So we arrived; much to the Warden's surprise and we all had to get off the lorry while it went up the hill to our site - A4 and A5. We hacked a way throught to B79 only to discover a wide trail a few yards further on. All good clean fun.

First night, the young puddle walkers ran round the camp site chasing spooks. The Swamplanders ran around the countryside chasing pubs; we found one. .....

.... Sunday came and everyone went to Scouts' Own. In the afternoon various relatives and friends began to drift in (including) Sam (who) said that we were keeping to the old standards and that he'd never seen seats so clean. Stan Bell, who is a Senior next year, proved to be an excellent seat scrubber. He always seemed to be in demand.

Everyone went swimming and nearly every time an incident occured; blood even flowed.

Aitch is still sorting out the various slander and libel actions following his Daily-cum-Evening-cum-Weekly newspaper.

The grub tent had a definite "1984" feeling about it; "Your Leader is Watching You".... The Assistant Camp Warden looked up to the 8th; he had to, being only 4ft 6in tall. Every time that Aitch wanted to speak to him Aitch went down on all fours.

Bother hats and sticks are here to stay. We had an altar fire with burnt offerings in the form of cakes, plain and curranty. The kids loved them.