As with most events the planning and preparations far outlasts the actual events in time, and this was certainly true for Glenalmond 1963. At least two years of careful planning went in to make it a memorable occasion, one that was over all too soon. Looking back it is almost impossible to recollect all that happened, all the people we met, all the things we did or tried to do. One memory is certain to remain with everyone who was there, the ease with which Boys of all nations mixed so freely and the way in which lasting friendships were made. BB fellowship was at its very best; nobody was in the least concerned with colour or nationality, unless, of course, you happened to be presenting an item at a concert when the pride of one’s home country was apparent and necessary. Fortunately the organisers had planned for a Camp that would provide everything for the modern Boy. There may be the critics of the Juke Boxes, the “canned music” and other contemporary gimmicks, but there is no doubt the Boys enjoyed them. The more subtle delights, such as the surrounding country, the magnificence of the college grounds, the college buildings, and the meticulous layout of the Camp itself, also made their mark; they could not have done otherwise.

Trinity College gave us perhaps the finest site we could have wished for, and the warmest thanks of the Brigade are due to the college authorities for their kindness. How unfortunate it was that the weather could not have been as co-operative. The flags of all nations represented fluttered gaily over the six Camp companies laid out in neat lines, and not one bell tent to be seen. Each ridge tent housed six Boys and it was impossible to tell where the Boys came from; they were all mixed up thoroughly. New Zealand, Sweden, Nigeria, Southern-Rhodesia, Bahamas, Finland, Ireland, Nyasaland, Canada, Denmark, America and so many other countries were represented. We delighted in one another’s’ company, we talked, we sang, we played, we toured, we prayed together, what opportunities, what a power for good. Those who have attended the great FDF Camps at Marselisborg could see a similarity in Glenalmond. So much went on, it was possible for many things to take place at once. Boys were here, there and everywhere. Daily trips took them to see the glories of Loch Lomond or a visit to St. Andrews. Hill walking and orienteering competitions, games of all kinds in “mickle” and “muckle” sports, eating in one of the three canteens, playing with that huge “murder ball”, trying to understand the trampoline —even the Brigade Secretary was tempted to try this. Those who were unlucky enough to get across the Scottish weather spent time in the Camp Hospital, where they received the care of experts in bodily welfare. The Rifle Range, the river, the shops or just walking about taking photographs had their attraction. It would be interesting to know just how many photos were taken or even more interesting, the total value of all the cameras!

“Scotland the Brave” was heard on more than one occasion, in fact the pipe band must have used it as a signature tune! How some of the London Boys wished they could have had a Bugle Band “to show ’em what a proper BB band sounds like!” Music and song played its part, whether traditional or ” pop”. The Steel Band of the members from Trinidad was so excellently presented that a second performance was arranged. This was typical of the Boys from overseas who came prepared with national items which delighted us all. There were, of course, special events, the first of these was the TV recording for “Songs of Praise” which was shown after the Camp was over. The setting was ideal and the calm and patient control by the BBC men was quite amazing. What is more amazing is that 1,500 voices could not make enough volume to begin with!