At the age of nine I was sent by my mother to join the Wolf Cubs, as they were then known. I didn't want to go because none of my friends was a member, but Mom always got her way! I remained an increasingly enthusiastic member of the Scout movement for the next, very formative, 13 years.

The Cub pack I had been made to join was attached to the church of Ss. Philip and James on Hodge Hill Common, Birmingham. Our Akela, or leader, was a young lady by the name of Norma Perrins. Of slight build and timid demeanour she gave every appearance of being overwhelmed by her responsibilities, which she manifestly was not.

Norma Perrins

At most Friday night meetings she was aided in her work by a Senior Scout named Ron Flint. Ron had the endearing habit of prefacing any explanation of the rules of a game about to be played with the words 'For the benefit of the new ones ...', whether or not there were any new ones!

Years after I had graduated to the Scout troop and beyond Norma met her man and married. She made it very clear that her marriage would draw a line under her work with the Cubs, and that no attempt was to be made to entice her back into it for any purpose. And so she disappeared from view. I doubt that any record of that Scout Group ever gave her adequate credit for the contribution she made over many years, from teenager to young woman. Such are the limitations of history.

In the fullness of time I 'went up' to the Scout troop, where I became the newest member of the Raven patrol. Later, as the troop expanded, I was transferred to the newly created Bulldog patrol. I think the Ravens were quite happy about that! The main attraction of the troop was that the Scouts went camping, whereas (in those days) the Cubs did not.

The first camp that I went on was to nearby York's Wood - at Easter, the traditional start of the camping season. Unfortunately it was an early Easter and the weather was awful. We arrived during Good Friday, having pulled the handcart carrying all our equipment from Hodge Hill to York's Wood. The tents were set up in a howling gale carrying flurries of sleet. Somehow we cooked a meal, got through the night and prepared a breakfast, but all the time the weather was throwing its worst at us. Not long after concerned parents, themselves former Scouts, turned up and pleaded with us to come home. They had two worries: the weather and our lack of adult leadership even though it was an official Scout camp site. This latter omission, quite rightly, would not be countenanced nowadays but was a measure of the 'doldrums' through which our Scout troop was going at that time. We went home.

Then, as now, Scout leaders were hard to find. The most effective method of recruiting them was from among parents, whether or not they had any relevant experience to call on. Eventually one such emerged: Joe Hobbins, father of Scout son John. Traditionally leaders were not addressed by their Christian names, a nickname being found for them. Equally traditionally the leader of the Scout troop was known as 'Skip' (short for 'Skipper'). In our case that name was still being used by the Group Leader, Tom Young. So another name had to be found for Joe.

It appeared that he was an active member of the St John Ambulance Brigade (as well as being a Special Constable). So Joe got called 'Splints'!

Under Joe's leadership the life of the troop took off. The endless playing of games at Troop nights was replaced by traditional Scout activities: First Aid (with his background, inevitable!), learning knots and all their myriad uses, woodcraft, pioneering ... the list was endless. We still played games occasionally, and 'Polly-on-the-Mopstick' remained a firm favourite. The quantity and quality of badge work increased, and camping was properly organised. Annual camp became the highlight of our Scouting year and Joe took us to some excellent locations - though the weather didn't improve!

In no time at all, it seemed, we reached the age of 15 and had to leave the Scouts and become Senior Scouts. A familiar problem re-emerged: we had no Senior Scout Troop or leader. The same solution was found and Bill Payne, father of David, Chris and Stephen and a vastly experienced Scouter from his early days in Aston, came to our rescue.

This time no search for a nickname was undertaken: that wasn't Bill's style. Again our lives went through a step change. Bill introduced us to a whole new set of experiences commensurate with our widening horizons as teenagers. Night hikes, gang shows, Christmas dances, TEWTs (work that one out for yourselves!), nothing was too much trouble for this energetic, enthusiastic, born organiser.

At 18 I moved to the last section of the Group: the Rover Crew. This was being re-vitalised by the transfer of Bill Ray, another parent, from the Scout troop. Bill was a deep and thoughtful man, so much so that at times he seemed unfathomable.

Simultaneously I became an Assistant Scout Master. In this role my horizons widened beyond the group on Hodge Hill Common. It included a stint at the special World Jamboree held in Sutton Park in 1957 to celebrate the centenary of the movement's founder - Robert Baden-Powell. This was going well until Asian 'flu struck the tented city - and me - so home I went!

Needless to say I have quite a few photographs from my time in the Scouts.

More recently, it is a particular pleasure that we have established biannual reunions in a local pub (where else!). The last reunion, in April 2008, attracted 14 former 126-ers. David Howell was a 'new face' on that occasion. Lots of attics had been raided and many (very!) 'old' photos were circulated. The next one will be on Wednesday, 22nd October 2008 at the Digby Inn, Water Orton at 12.30pm. Please come if you can.