St.Georges Day Parade 1948?

[Guest Falls]

You might find this amusing. The text is a bit long but hang-in there

Near the end of World War 2, I joined Sheffield Cub Pack No.158 - Holy Trinity C of E in the Wicker area and by my final year, say 1948, I had risen through the ranks to the dizzy heights of “Senior Sixer”. Cubs didn’t do an awful lot outside their pack meetings in those days, except that we always took part in the St George’s Day Parade and church service.

This was held on the Sunday afternoon nearest to St Georges Day (April 23rd). In my early cub years, we had marched from the old Castlefolds Market area to the Cathedral for the service and march-past. In my final year however, the service was to be held at St George’s Church on Broad Lane. As for the arrangements about a full parade or march-past, these were very vague, if not contradictory. On this occasion, my Pack Leader had also given me the dubious honour of carrying the flag.

The weather that particular Sunday was sunny and dry but there was a bit of a breeze. It was quite a trek to St Georges. From Holy Trinity, we walked along Nursery’s Street and met another pack at the bottom of Chatham Street. Together, we then march up Corporations Street, and West Bar Green. At the end of Queen Street, we met up with a scout band and fell-in behind other scout troops and cub packs. Having the band, even if some of the buglers were out of tune, did help in the march on Tenters Street and the final slog up Broad Lane to the Church.

I had managed to hang onto the flag in the breeze without incident and joined up with other flag bearers at the church door. In the mean time, our respective scout troops and cub packs were marched inside. We then paraded our flags into the church behind the clergy and VIP’s.

I can’t remember much about the service, but at its conclusion, I expected that we would all parade the flags from the church first, as I had seen it done before. That’s how things started; however, when there were just six or seven cubs and their flags left to join the procession, some busy-body in a scout uniform appeared from nowhere and told us stay where we were. We then looked on helplessly as the rest of the flag bearers disappeared out of the church followed by all the scout troops, cub packs and a good part of the regular congregation. Eventually, we managed to make it to the church door with as much dignity as possible but once outside, we were dismayed to find that all the troops and packs had now disappeared. There wasn’t a scout or a cub in sight.

I could hear a band off in the distance but had no idea where it was or in which direction it was going. At this point, our busybody reappeared and began to

berate us for not being with our respective packs. I couldn’t believe it - he had caused the problem in the first place.

I hadn’t had a good view of this individual in the dimness of the church but once outside, I could now get a better look. It didn’t take me long to realize that this man wasn’t young or even middle aged. This man was at least a contemporary of my Grandfather and quite possibly, even older.

His uniform was a very old style, well worn and he was carrying the largest scout hat I had ever seen. If it had been any larger in diameter, it would have been a Sombrero.

Now even that far back in time; lots of scouts, and some leaders, were reluctant to wear the old felt hats because of all the jeers or cat-calls they were likely to receive. Our friend had been fiddling with his hat all the time he had been talking to us but after his final verbal blast, he put the hat on and marched away. The diameter of the hat brim was greater than the width of his shoulders. He looked totally ridiculous. How we avoided laughing until he was out of earshot I don’t know. He also had a small split developing in the back seam of his shorts and seeing this did nothing for our composure either. Laughter apart, none of this helped us in reconnecting with our respective packs.

I told the other cubs that I was leaving and intended to make my own way back to the Wicker. I walked out of the church yard on to St George’s Terrace, still carrying my flag and turned right towards Broad lane. I started walking quickly but before I reached the end of the terrace I was virtually running. Once I turned the corner into Broad Lane, I definitely was running. All this time, I was trying to come up with a plan. As my pack had totally disappeared and it looked like I would have to go back to my own church alone, what was I to do with the flag? I couldn’t just march down the street on my own, that would be embarrassing. I had to hide it, but where? Flags, even cub flags on a pole, are big things. You can’t just shove it up your jumper. It was only when I was closer to the junction of Broad Lane and Mappin Street that I realized the sound of the band(s) was now louder.

What I didn’t know was the band, followed by all the scouts and cubs, had marched out of the church yard and turned left onto St George’s Terrace (I had turned right). This was before the rest of us had even managed to leave the church. At the end of the Terrace, it had turned left again onto Portobello Street. It then made yet another left turn into Mappin Street. At that moment the whole parade, with the band leading, was being drawn-up at the end of Mappin Street, in front of Sheffield University’s Mappin Building. My pack was in fact two from the front. .

As I approached the corner of Mappin Street, a policeman stopped the traffic - such as it was - on Broad Lane. This was followed by a whistle blast and the band and parade started to move out into Broad Lane. I arrived at the corner with just enough time to step smartly out in front of my own pack, almost as if it had all been planned. The look of relief on the faces of the leaders, particularly Mabel, our leader’s wife, said it all.

Most leaders knew that there had been a monumental foul-up with the parade arrangements and were just hoping that we would all make it back to our packs in time. I had made it back to my group but I never did know what happened to the other flag bearers.

Regards