Boy Scout Jamboree

During my time in Boy Scouts we had a Jamboree each year. It usually involved a two or three-day camp and troops from all over our part of the state would attend. There were competitions between troops and chances to earn merit badges.

I remember one Jamboree in particular. Terry and I always shared a tent together at the Jamborees and at Camp Eastman. Most of the time we got along, but Terry loved practical jokes. That was good as long as we were doing it to someone else but I didn’t like it much when he would do it to me.

Late at night we would sometimes sneak around and loosen tent stakes. When the wind picked up tents would fall over on sleeping campers. Foil dinners in the campfire were big then and Terry was good at thinking of new thing’s to spike others dinners. He was skilled at getting a rock or a stick in someone else’s dinner without being detected. We short sheeted beds and put creatures in sleeping bags.

I remember one Jamboree that was held one fall somewhere near Wapello. It was in a huge rolling pasture full of grass and cow pies. Friday night was fine and on Saturday morning our orienteering team, Terry and I and two others, won the entire event by successfully navigating the entire course and returning to the starting point with a flag from each point. We had taken just under two hours and the next closest team was over 30 minutes behind us. Some teams didn’t finish until after lunch and others never did finish. Terry was driven to excel at Scout events and that we did. We got some kind of prize for finishing first and we were “big stuff” in the camp that day.

After a beans and hot dog lunch the Iowa Highway Patrol came and gave a tear gas demonstration. They set off a tear gas canister out in a low spot and then invited anyone who wanted to walk or run through it. I declined after watching kids screaming and rubbing their eyes while they buried their heads in the pillows.

The problem that day was that there was no wind and gradually the tear gas spread out across the camp and just seemed to hang there. We were soon all miserable with no sign of a change anytime soon. By suppertime we prepared our foil dinners through teary eyes. The gas had dissipated considerably but was still there, in our clothes and in our hair. The Highway Patrol had long since deserted us and the Scouts and the leaders were mad.

By eight o’clock that night it became obvious that we weren’t going to be able to sleep that night. It had turned cold and the thought of crawling in the tear gas smelling sleeping bag wasn’t all that pleasant no matter how faint the odor. After some consultation we all packed up and headed for home, as did most of the other groups. I guess this time the joke was on all of us!