Cub Master’s Lament

Introduction

    Every year the Circle Ten Council would have a special camp out for the Cub Scouts. The theme varied each year, and this particular camp out was called the Cope-n-Rope. It was set up as a series of tests designed to build confidence, teach problem solving and instill the patrol method of team work. Some of the exercises included how to get a patrol across a river with minimal or no equipment, location and evacuation of a lost and injured person, and one of the most grueling, The Wall!!

    The Wall was just that. It was a section of wall made of wood. It was about twenty feet wide and ten feet high. The front was smooth and the back side had a rampart about six feet up to stand on. The object was to get your patrol up and over the front. The first one over could stand on the rampart and help the rest up. The older scouts didn’t have too much trouble with this, even without scaling aids (like rope) of any kind. My Cub Scouts were a different matter, however.

    They clambered and crawled, climbed and falled (okay, it’s not good, but it rhymes) while their leaders stood around and laughed. A good time was had by all, until . . . some adult leader of questionable sanity suggested that he and other adults of equally questionable sanity form a pyramid lattice of our own bodies for the young boys to climb up on. Needless to say, I was of sufficiently questionable sanity to gladly volunteer for this mayhem. I was one of the five major fools on the ground floor of this insanity, and we had four slightly less foolish men standing on our shoulders. The remainder of the completely sane leaders then unleashed the Cub Scouts to "go over the Wall."

    The next week in our monthly Pack meeting, we were having a cake auction to raise money for our various activities. The cake I baked and decorated looked like a grave with a cardboard headstone. The Cub Master’s Lament was engraved on that "stone" to commemorate that wonderful experience at . . .  The Wall.

(Note: Carl in the poem is my youngest son who was a WEBELOS at the time. And yes, he went over The Wall, daddy and all.)

Cub Master's Lament

Here lies our Cub Master, all cold and gone gray.

On our very last camp out, sadly, he passed away.

He was trampled to death, by ninety WEBELOS in all,

As they climbed up his back to go over the WALL.

And these final words; they were all he could COPE;

"I know they had fun but . . . next time, please use a ROPE!"

But now it's Carl's turn, to pick up the pace,

To shoulder the burden, and carry on in his place.

And at some future time, we hope he'll be found,

With a rope in his hand, still standing his ground.