Boy Scout Memories

My Scouts uniform really suited me. Mind you, all my friends who decided to join the uniformed ranks would have said the same thing. Something about that garb was appealing and attractive.
It’s quite unlikely that, at that age, any of us were aware of the Polish saying that “ladies love a man in uniform”, yet we probably sensed it without realising it.

Scouting was more than a way of filling spare time, as it kept boredom at bay. It did provide some tangible benefits too: trips, camps, adventure. They were all hugely appealing. Something I would certainly never have experienced hanging out on a street corner or roaming around the neighbourhood. Not that I minded street corner meetings and aimless loafing, but the Scouting adventure was a next-level experience, as it forged your character and instilled principles.

I believe that who we become as adults takes root in childhood. That is why it is so important to teach young people the proper sense of direction – through home, school, and organisations like the Scouts. The need for discipline and resilience of spirit was instilled in me. The role models of those bygone years made a powerful impression. And these formative experiences bore fruit in the years to come.

I was an only child, which was probably why I felt attracted to my peer group. I could share my secrets, tales from holidays, and schoolyard gossip. In short, I was busily looking for brothers and sisters, and in many cases, I managed to find them.

Being a Scout taught me courage and chivalry. This latter notion has gone out of fashion and is, for some reason, ridiculed today, even if it is the key to bringing up a boy the right way.

It was in the Scouts that I received my first lesson in being a gentleman. It might seem funny today, but look closely and it holds the core of man’s education.
We were sitting around a bonfire on benches made of coarse logs. As luck would have it, there was space for everyone but for one girl. The simplest solution would have been to give up my section of the bench for her, but as nobody should be standing by the fire, she sat on my lap – no improper overtones at that. I felt honoured, I admit. The minutes passed, and I, forcefully immobilised, felt pins and needles crawling up my legs. But there was no way I could possibly say: “Excuse me, I need to straighten my legs, or I’ll faint”.
I might as well have confessed to being a weakling fit only for collecting firewood.
I gritted my teeth, only easing up for the next verses of our song about a bonfire crackling in the forest.
The Scouts’ fireside feast came to an end, the girl thanked me, and stood up. And so did I. However, I didn’t even manage to answer her kind words, as my numb legs buckled under me, and after taking a step, I collapsed to the ground like a felled tree. Apparently, the knightly suit of armour was too big for this young Boy Scout. That, however, would only be the shallowest conclusion. Laughter sounded all around me, and once I was back on my feet, I had to face amused glances. And this is the right time for proper reflection: I withstood the eyes transfixing me and boldly shouldered my embarrassment. It was a brilliant lesson in life. Because many times you’ll stumble, and many of your falls will provoke laughter, if not scorn and jeers. And, if you’re a man, you will withstand it. In fact, each such case will make you stronger and ready for even harder falls.

Losing isn’t about being laughed at. It’s about curling up under the avalanche of ironic comments, amused glances, and caustic remarks. When you have no strength left to stand up.
You’ve done your part, some things might not have gone exactly to plan, but you don’t stop, just carry on. For there’s still plenty ahead of you.
This is one of the things that Scouting taught me.

That service was also a fine test of courage. Night watches, silent vigils, scavenger hunts in the woods… That is where I learnt to enjoy the silence, tell apart its textures and intensities. I trained my ears, making sure that what many consider silence is merely the muffling of noises. Today, I am astonished to discover that some sounds of my music were planted into me long ago and have been remembered. Perhaps since one of those nights I stood watch, the lonely Boy Scout sentinel.