[This is part of an upcoming set of stories detailing my memories of this trip with a bunch of great Scouts and Scouters called “We’re Not Gonna Make It…” Enjoy!]
Day 6
It was raining cats and dogs…heavy, cold rain for an April morning, along with some lightning and lots of thunder thrown in for good measure. Very windy — half of all three patrol’s tentage was blown upside down and lots of dry items were suddenly extremely wet. The two Senior Patrol Leaders met under the one dining fly and in between moving wet things to the fly to get out of the wetness, came up with a strategy to get things going.
A fire was needed. A big one, with lots of flames. As the weather subsided, people and stuff will need to be dried out. Give me your two best fire starters, it was said, and we’ll build the fire over in the clearing where the trees gave a bit of shade from the pelts of cold rain. It was done. The four Scouts found dead, drier branches and twigs, brownish stems from conifer trees, even some cones — and together with a good dose of charcoal lighter provided by Mr. Charles (Scott Charles, who three days earlier when the Scouts were walking along a forest trail, was telling and showing them things which will “catch fire” even when a little wet. Even I learned a bit from this experienced outdoorsman) who was the Scoutmaster of the Schabish Gmund Troop who tagged along with mine and some Scouts from another Troop I used to serve as Scoutmaster of until we moved to the Stuttgart area).
Adults and Scouts moved backpacks and sleeping bags to the fly and a couple of enterprising Scouts used a tent we did not set up as additional storage space. Soon, the wind subsided, the rain went away and what were left were cold air and a blazing fire.
The two leaders yelled for everyone to stand around the fire. There were some cold Scouts. The two started in on a couple of camp songs and soon everyone pretty well forgot about the weather and was into trying to “one up” the other with a new song.
The van came by and the two Soldiers appointed for that day’s task got out and gave us a treat. “Top (their First Sergeant) said that you probably could use this if you’re still out there with no fire…oops, you’ve got a fire going…” There were two containers of soup along with a container of coffee, Styrofoam cups and plastic spoons, and a note for one of the adults to call his wife — nothing serious — just a “health and morale call”.
The Scouts drank up all of the soup and then assisted the adults with getting everything taken down and put into the van. “Don’t worry about it being wet…we’ll take it somewhere and dry out the sleeping bags and things…” The adult whose wife wanted him to call her also rode with the two Soldiers to the next point — on the other side of a slight hill which, from it, had a great view of Sinsheim.
The morning’s “God Thing” was shared by the Troop’s Chaplain Aide, Tony Song. Tony looked up in the sky and said “God’s tears makes things grow. His breath spreads it out. The lightning and the thunder makes us aware He’s there. And now we go to love other people!”
To which Vale said, taking in the cow pastures nearby “God needs a mint – His breath smells like manure!” We all laughed, but the point was made.
After a decent attempt in personal hygiene and the reluctant putting out of the fire, the Senior Patrol Leader for the day (Roger) gave the direction of travel and two pieces of advice which proved to be important later in the day:
“We’re Scouts, not kids. So please, no playing in the mud puddles and no slapping the water and mud onto someone else. We don’t know where we’re going to end up for lunch today, and since our other uniforms are wet, this is all we’ve got.”
He pointed toward a hill and said “We’re not in a race, either. We’ve got all day long to get over that hill and down on the other side. So let’s stay together and get there to have some real food!”
He must have been psychic. To this day, I don’t know how he knew.
Trudging up the hill reminded me of those road marches that Soldiers endured during the Second World War. I saw those films of tired, wet and muddy Soldiers, armed with their primary weapon, one in front of another one, as they moved toward the next objective. Gary, moving a little slower than the rest, was tagging in the back. While Roger was up front, I stopped moving and waited for Gary to catch up with me. It was foggy as we started up the hill.
“I’m tired and it’s not even 9 o’clock, Mr. Walton…”
“I know…the rain and the cold weather kinda hit us all hard…what’s your favorite subject in school?”
“Math. Why?”
“Just curious. Have you guys been through the part about measuring area?” I kept walking along, spying a valley with what looked like someone’s patchwork quilting. The various kinds of crops being developed or planted made a colorful blanket.
“Yeah…” Gary was moving along, a little better now that his mind was not on movement but rather on something he loved. The fog was lifting as we moved onward and the sun came out in parts.
“Can you look over there and tell me what you think the area of that planted area is? I don’t need an exact…”
“30 something. I’ve been looking over there for some time. It’s 30 by 20. I’m gonna call them “blocks” because I don’t know what the true measurement was.” Gary answered me before I could finish my words.
The fog covered the small castle at the top of the hill. As we moved upward, some of the Scouts stopped to pet the various sheep and horses that belonged to someone. Then it was the cows and goats that came to observe the visitors. Finally, we all made it to the top of the hill and the entrance to the castle.
Vale, my Troop’s Senior Patrol Leader, walked over and looked at the signage in front of the castle. Someone bought the castle and turned it into a bed and breakfast kind of place. Several cars were parked outside.
Roger said “We’ll rest here for a bit and then go down to the town over there,” he said, pointing toward a town now visible from the side of the small mountain.
“Americans!? Boy Scouts?!” A man ran over to where some of the Scouts were standing. Someone spied a “WC” – a bathroom – so Scouts were taking turns going.
“Is this for real? Are you Americans?” He looked back at his wife, and then looked again at us. “Are you on a trip from the States?” One of the Scouts answered that no, they lived here…not at the castle but in Germany. Another Scout added, “Our Scoutmaster will know more, but there’s Scouts all over in Germany.”
When Gary and I arrived, a couple of Scouts pointed me to the elderly man and said “He’s from the States and wanted to know what we’re doing here.” I walked over, introduced myself and told him.
“Fascinating. You’ve got to be hungry, right?” I explained that our plans were to go into town and get something to eat.
“Your plans have changed. I would like to treat all of you to brunch here. My treat. American hospitality!”
I said I would have to ask the leaders but thank you. He shot back “Aren’t you the leader?”
“No sir. The leader for today is that young man sitting there with his feet on the BUMPER OF SOMEONE’S CAR!!” Roger quickly moved his feet off the car and stood up, saying “What!!” I motioned for him to come over, and he did.
“You’re busted. Don’t do that again please. This gentleman wants to treat your Troop to brunch. You okay with that?”
“Do I haveta answer now or after I’ve talked it over?” He ran to find the other leaders and discussed it.
The man — a former Scoutmaster from Iowa — treated all 23 of us to a brunch, with some of the Scouts who attended my former wife’s meeting about formal dining a couple of months back, coaching the others on which fork and knife to use first, which glass was theirs and what to do with the napkin — before, during and after the meal.
A day which started out bad ended up outstanding.
Settummanque!
—
Settummanque is writer, retired military officer, dad, friend,
traveler, public speaker, webmaster, Eagle Scout, and/or “sweetie”
(LTC) Mike Walton. South Lake Minnetonka area, Minnesota.
http://www.settummanque.com
Settummanque is writer, retired military officer, dad, friend,
traveler, public speaker, webmaster, Eagle Scout, and/or “sweetie”
(LTC) Mike Walton. South Lake Minnetonka area, Minnesota.
http://www.settummanque.com
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