Ron Levett's childhood memories, from the early 1930's, when he lived in the small village of Alfriston in Sussex

Once a year, during the early thirties a travelling Evangelist troupe arrived in Alfriston, and set up a large marquee in the field just up the road from Brook Furlong. We found that every time we attended, we were presented with a tub of homemade ice cream. Naturally, we went to most of their services!

The field in which it was held was the property of Mr. Morphew, who was the owner of White Lodge, a local philanthropist. Later on, when I was in my early teens, he supplied a large room in one of his barns, complete with a full size billiard table, for use as a youth club. Later on still, this barn became the local fire station for the duration of the war.

I joined the Wolf Cubs, as they were called before they became Cub Scouts. The Scout hut was a wooden building with a corrugated iron roof, situated behind the house in Weavers Lane called Seven Croft. The Scoutmaster's name was Walter Parker. His wife was the Arkala, or leader, of the Cubs.

One year, soon after I joined the Scouts, we went for a week's camp in Plashett Park, which is near Barcombe Mills. To get there, all our camping gear, including a trek cart which could be taken to pieces, were loaded on Fred's lorry and off we went.

He dropped us on the road at the nearest point to our camping site, we re-assembled the trek-cart and off we went. It was the first time many of us had slept under canvas. For some, it was the first time away from home. I think the main problem for the scoutmaster was to stop people talking, and get to sleep.

Among the things we had to do in camp, was to pass our cooking test, in order to get the badge to sew on our shirtsleeve. We had to cook steak and chips over an open wood fire. Keeping the fire going and avoiding burning the food was quite a challenge for a ten-year old. Passing the test was easy though. All you had to do was to eat the meal!

There were the usual accidents, rain in the tent, equipment going missing and I chopped the tip off the index finger of my left hand. I was holding a piece of wood and attempting to cut it for firewood with a small axe in my right hand. I still have the scar.

Ron Levett, 2001