Brad Brown

I believe my motivation for wanting to join the Boy Scouts was that I thought it was as close to military service as I could get without getting shot. As most boys did, I played with toy soldiers, watched GI Joe, and had a general fascination with all things military. I was also born at Fort Benning (the home of Martin Sheen) to a father who had a long military career. It was in my blood I suppose.
 
Troop 128, in beautiful Smiths Station, Alabama, was the closest Boy Scout outpost to my house, so I joined, bought all the necessary gear (loved the ascot), and tried to be the best scout possible. I would go to the clubhouse (I believe there was a more manly name for it) every Saturday morning to hone my survival skills. We started each session with a prayer, and then broke into smaller groups to practice first aid, knot tying, and psychological warfare. The goal was to become more accomplished in survival methodology, prove you’ve retained what you’ve learned, and move to the next level - very similar to Sunday School or FreeMasonry, only less savage.
 
Our first true test of survival was a two-night campout, just off highway 80 near the McDonalds. The scoutmaster paired me up with another boy (in the interest of relationship building). My partner (we’ll call him Dick) was more experienced than I, so he led the expedition, deciding on the proper location for our tent. Later that night, when we retired to the tent and got into our sleeping bags, I felt little pricks (!) all over my skin. It turns out that Dick’s optimum tent placement was on top of a fire ant mound. The experience must have been traumatic for Dick, because after we moved and fumigated the tent, I smelled something funny. I politely asked Dick, “Did you defecate in your pants?” He told me that he did, then it became awfully quiet, and I rolled over for a deep, smelly sleep.
 
The next night, a group of the newer scouts, including myself, decided to cross the creek to see what the older scouts were doing - recon 101. As we neared the rocky edge, I heard a cracking sound, and Dick yelled to me “Duck!” After we hid behind some trees, I noticed that the older scouts were taking aim at us with slingshot-mounted rocks. Luckily, they were high on dope and soon lowered their weapons; the THC had a calming effect. Apparently the slingshot was used as a hazing tool by the older scouts - both Dick and I passed the test with flying colors. We were soon sitting on the other side of the creek with the older scouts, drinking Budweiser and cooking crawdads [a Southern term meaning “real small lobster”]. No..no…what I meant to say was that we were soon sitting with them drinking water and cooking crawdads.
 
The rest of the campout was uneventful. Some of the highlights included searching for the latrine at 2am on a cold February morning, learning about the smore concept, and earning my cooking badge. The friendships I built I will never forget. It was truly one of the best weekends I’ve experienced in life. I quit Boy Scouts two weeks later and haven’t looked back. However, I occasionally consult my manual when I need to remember how to tie a bowline, or how to cook in a Dutch oven.
 
How would I change the Boy Scout experience if I could? I wouldn’t. Instead I would form a sister organization, called “The Leisure Scouts” ™. Instead of killing, the focus would be on intellectual pursuits: debating, lute playing, and discussions about Chaucer. They could meet in the garden department at Wal-Mart, so there would be no need for a clubhouse. Once a year, both the Leisure Scouts of Brad and the Boy Scouts of America could come together at a neutral location (Abu Ghraib?) to exchange ideas. I think the Leisure Scout idea is the only way to make sure every young boy feels appreciated for their talents and interests, no matter how impractical they may be. BradBrown.com would be glad to be the initial sponsor of such a fine organization.
 
Tell me your thoughts. What did you enjoy as a scout? Was the experience helpful in your military career? Did the experience of pairing off with a buddy and earning your cooking badge spark your desire for a domestic partnership later in life?

 

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