How the Girl Guides Won the War. Janie Hampton

suggested that each Brownie pack make a toadstool as their totem. ‘Like true fairies, Brownies can make their ring anywhere, not only in the woods or out on the grass, but even in the town and in a room.’ Toadstools were easy to make out of papier-mâché, and could be stored in a cupboard. ‘We all joined hands round the toadstool and danced around it singing,’ remembered Mary Allingham, a former Brownie. ‘“We’re the Brownies. Here’s our Aim: Lend a hand and Play the Game.” Then everyone shouted LAH, LAH, LAH, and saluted. It all seemed magic to me.’

      Baden-Powell took on the important job of writing The Handbook for Brownies himself. His understanding of tracking animals was better than his knowledge of biology, and he was very worried about germs: ‘There are little beasts floating about in the air called Germs. They are squirmy-looking little beggars, and very dangerous, because if they get inside you they will give you an illness of one kind or another.’ These squirmy-looking little beggars were more likely to attack Brownies who breathed with their mouths: ‘Nose Breathing, with real cold fresh air out of doors, alone will help you to grow and to be strong.’

      Brownies were encouraged to exercise their imaginations, but only within limits — too much imagination might lead them astray. Good Brown Owls had read Esterel Pelly’s Brownie Games: ‘Brown Owl must keep the games going and never for a minute let the pack come back to earth with a bump,’ she wrote. ‘Brown Owl must lead her Brownies from one excitement to another, and they will follow her blissfully, and she will keep the right atmosphere to the very end of the game.’

      At her enrolment, each new Brownie makes the Brownie promise while saluting with her right hand vertical, the palm facing outwards. Pointing to the sky, the two middle fingers represent the two promises. ‘The first law is that Brownies give in to Older Folk,’ said Baden-Powell. ‘The second is that a Brownie does not give in to Herself.’ This two-fingered salute came long before Churchill’s V-for-victory sign, and many Brownies confused it with the ruder version with the palm facing inwards.

      Each Six then danced round the toadstool singing its own special song. The Pixies sing: ‘Look out! We’re the jolly Pixies, Helping people when in fixes.’ The Imps: ‘We’re the ever helpful Imps, Quick and quiet as any shrimps.’ There were also Welsh fairies: ‘We’re the Bwbachod from Wales, Filling farmers’ milking pails.’

      For great occasions, such as visits from the District Commissioner, there was a Grand Salute. ‘The Brownies form a circle and squat on their heels,’ wrote Baden-Powell, ‘with both hands on the ground between their feet. When the important person comes in, they howl very gently all together. “Tu-whit-to-who-oo-ooo. Tu-whit-to-who-oo-ooo,” the second time raising the voice and gradually rising to a standing position. “Tu-whit-to-who-oo-ooo.” The third time it is louder and the forefinger of the right hand is placed to the lips and made to revolve, the noise getting louder and louder until it ends in a shriek, a leap in the air, and a clap of the hands. The clap comes as the feet reach the ground. This action will slay the Boggarts. Then the Brownies are absolutely silent, and raise their right hands to the full salute.’ The Baden-Powells advised Brown Owls that a pack was ‘not a family, but a happy family’, and that ‘laughter counteracts most of the evils of the very young and makes for cheery companionship and open-mindedness. The one who laughs much, lies little.’

      Once enrolled, a Brownie began her Second-Class Test, for which she was expected to know the history of the Union Jack, tie four complicated knots, make a useful article with a hem and decorative tacking, sew on two types of buttons, understand the importance of clean teeth, bowl a hoop, skip twenty times backwards, catch a ball six times and lay a table for dinner. Quite an accomplishment for an eight-year-old.

      To attain First-Class standard, a Brownie had to understand semaphore, have grown a bulb, tie up a parcel, knit a jumper, lay and light a fire, cook a milk pudding, make tea, memorise a message, fold clothes neatly, skip with her feet crossing, bandage a grazed knee, know how to put out a person on fire, throw a ball accurately overarm and sing ‘God Save the King’.

      From the start, all Brownies wore the same basic uniform, wherever they were in the world, so that they could be ‘One Sisterhood’. Brownie uniform included a knitted beret or woven rush hat, brown leather belt, brown shoes, brown hair ribbons and brown cotton knickers. The brown cotton shift-dress was designed to accommodate the growth of both the legs and bosom. In India, ‘Bluebirds’ wore thick black stockings and white sola topees. Taking into account the fact that many families had little money, girls were allowed to wear their Brownie uniforms for up to a year after becoming Guides. Brownies were often photographed in their uniform — the only presentable outfit they owned.

      Not everyone approved of Brownie uniforms. ‘In the pack, no element of individuality was entertained,’ wrote Kate Adie in Corsets to Camouflage, a history of women in uniform. ‘All Brownies wore turd-coloured bag-like shifts, with a leather belt and custard-yellow tie. Fatter Brownies looked like hamsters feeding permanently on bananas. The outfit was surmounted by a chocolate-coloured knitted Thing, which slid off your head the moment you had to do some Brownie ritual, usually involving imaginary toadstools. If you were diligent your sleeve was peppered with weird symbols, proclaiming your status as a girl well-versed in raffia craft or whatever. The good aspect of the uniform was that it blended into the dust and dirt which was swirled up by Brownie games in dingy huts. In other words, it worked, but did nothing for you.’

      Many Brownies loved their yellow triangular ties. ‘Learning how to make a yellow triangle into a tie was an art that, once achieved, felt unique,’ recalled Mary Allingham. ‘First there was the folding, to make it as thin as possible. Then that special knot that could look like a messy bunch if you weren’t careful, then you had to tie it with a reef knot. This was an extraordinary piece of manual engineering — done at the back of your neck, without being able to see it. Brown Owl always checked for granny knots, which were somehow rather immoral. Why grannies were given this insult, I never knew.’ The Brownie tie was designed to do many things. ‘It was comforting to know that at any time, around your neck was an arm sling, a bandage for cut legs, a sieve for dirty water; you could even carry your rabbit in it or boil up a pudding.’

      In August 1914, only a month after Brownies began, Miss Richenda Gurney set up a Brownie pack for her many nieces and cousins holidaying in north Norfolk. She wore a uniform made for her by Stones & Sons, the Norwich military tailor. The day after their first meeting, war with Germany was declared and the 1st Northrepps Brownie Pack practised bandaging their uncles and the gardener, using their triangular ties as slings. During the General Strike of 1926, Brownies collected clothes for striking miners, and they would later knit blankets in squares for families hit by the Great Depression. Christine Hinkley, the daughter of a Scoutmaster in Ruislip, Middlesex, became a Brownie when she was eight: ‘I joined the Little People Six. We sang as we danced around our toadstool: “We though known as little people, aim as high as any steeple.” We played feet-off-ground games, Kim’s game, stepping-stones with newspaper. We learned how to make cups of tea and set a table for our Hostess Badge. For Homemaker Badge we kept our rooms tidy, dusted, swept, washed a tea towel and washed up. We had an annual get-together in Ruislip called Brownie Revels, held in the gardens of a very large house, with woodland around; about a hundred of us. We played lots of games in the woods, culminating in a wonderful picnic tea.’

      The transition from Brownies to Guides was marked at the ‘Flying-Up’ ceremony, at which eleven-year-old Brownies who had achieved the First Class Test jumped off a bench to ‘fly up’ to Guides. The Chorlton-cum-Hardy pack had a Fly-Up on 1 November 1926. ‘Had any strangers peeped into our clubroom they would have watched one of the nicest of all ceremonies, a “Brownie Fly-Up”,’ reported their log book. ‘While the Brownie Pack stand in the Fairy Ring round their Totem, and the Guide company in Horse-shoe formation, four Brownies leave the pack and fly to Guides. Brown Owl fastens on their wings, then bids them go forward and do well. Then each Brownie gives the salute and handshake, and the whole pack give the Grand Howl.’ Less-qualified Brownies were only allowed to walk up to Guides. Christine Hinkley remembered: ‘I tried to get my Brownie Wings, but could not get enough badges. Much to my father’s disappointment, I failed my Semaphore Badge. So I could not fly up to Guides with that special ceremony.’