Once A Scout, Always A Scout
Value your honou above everything else. Live and die by it, and let it not be tainted or tarnished.
I was a cub scout once. Those saturday mornings in the school court yard, filled with the joyful squeals of prepubescent boys. Learning skills.
In secondary school, scouting was what I lived for. A "uniformed group: those barbarians called it. It was and still is more than that. It will always be. For scouting teaches not how many press ups you can do, or how loud your singlish tainted and profanity punctuated war cries/out-of-tune songs can be, but everything else. What to live for, and HOW to live.
I lived for saturdays when i was in middle school. School was nothing more than something that delayed the coming of those faithful and fabled days of yore. But I digress.
Although our troop was not top-notch, I was still proud to call myself a Scorpion. Then came these instructors who knew NOTHING of scouting, but instead tried to instill military regiment into a way of living. I was disgusted by it, I felt no love for Scouting anymore. That was until of course, they left.
I could not understand why the low lifes, grovellers, new comers or even useless loud mouths were elevated in status while I was left out. Why and how. I was later promoted though. then in the third year, our faithful group of six was promoted to Patrol Leaders. Then came PLC and Venturing.
Venturing was without doubt, one of the more enjoyable years. Not that there were many.
What disgusted me the most was the politics that took place even amongst us scouts. How could this grovelling bastard convince this other man/foul creature to remove my AQM positioon, only to be given that position some months later. HOW?!?! I ran the damn store, I worked the hardest, and I gave my all. And "God" decided that the bad guys should be rewarded.
But I kept silent.
With Venturing came great joy. And great digust. Again.
Parade commaander. No doubt distinguished, but stressed into mistakes by the supporting contingent of useless Guides. And the backstabbing that came with the punishment meted out, because of some punishment I NEVER agree to go ahead with. It really showed just how rag-tag these bunch of boys turned out to be. Being in the "CCA" for the points that came with it, and shirking all responsibilities. And having my honor of first placed first aider taken away, because of some administrative mistake. All the credit for my pracitcal treatments and wide knowledge, taken away by some fool. FOOL. Society's waste of resources.
Then there were instructors who cared only for ropework. Never failing to call us to duty at the most inopportune of times. Who were the wastrels who thought that they knew of Scouting and Honour.
Post-Venturing. I harbored intention of continuing with venturing, but was tied down with rugby. Then this bastard told me I had to join the Rovers.
circa 1960's Steven Yue awarded Queen's Scout. Highest honour that can ever be bestowed upon any scout in the COmmonwealth, and possibly the world, second to only the Baden-Powell award.
I refuse to join the Rovers and refuse to take part in Venturing. Scouting in Whitley now, is USELESS. A bunch of rag-tag juniors and cadets. Numbering less than 15 in all. UTTER RUBBISH. And the conformists who now swell the ranks of the Rovers. And stupid bastards who know nothing, but none the less tyr. I APPLAUD your EFFORT. I try to replicate that scouting honour bestowed on the head of my family. But just look at the plight scouting to me is in NOW!!!
God help me... If there is a GOD
I was a cub scout once. Those saturday mornings in the school court yard, filled with the joyful squeals of prepubescent boys. Learning skills.
In secondary school, scouting was what I lived for. A "uniformed group: those barbarians called it. It was and still is more than that. It will always be. For scouting teaches not how many press ups you can do, or how loud your singlish tainted and profanity punctuated war cries/out-of-tune songs can be, but everything else. What to live for, and HOW to live.
I lived for saturdays when i was in middle school. School was nothing more than something that delayed the coming of those faithful and fabled days of yore. But I digress.
Although our troop was not top-notch, I was still proud to call myself a Scorpion. Then came these instructors who knew NOTHING of scouting, but instead tried to instill military regiment into a way of living. I was disgusted by it, I felt no love for Scouting anymore. That was until of course, they left.
I could not understand why the low lifes, grovellers, new comers or even useless loud mouths were elevated in status while I was left out. Why and how. I was later promoted though. then in the third year, our faithful group of six was promoted to Patrol Leaders. Then came PLC and Venturing.
Venturing was without doubt, one of the more enjoyable years. Not that there were many.
What disgusted me the most was the politics that took place even amongst us scouts. How could this grovelling bastard convince this other man/foul creature to remove my AQM positioon, only to be given that position some months later. HOW?!?! I ran the damn store, I worked the hardest, and I gave my all. And "God" decided that the bad guys should be rewarded.
But I kept silent.
With Venturing came great joy. And great digust. Again.
Parade commaander. No doubt distinguished, but stressed into mistakes by the supporting contingent of useless Guides. And the backstabbing that came with the punishment meted out, because of some punishment I NEVER agree to go ahead with. It really showed just how rag-tag these bunch of boys turned out to be. Being in the "CCA" for the points that came with it, and shirking all responsibilities. And having my honor of first placed first aider taken away, because of some administrative mistake. All the credit for my pracitcal treatments and wide knowledge, taken away by some fool. FOOL. Society's waste of resources.
Then there were instructors who cared only for ropework. Never failing to call us to duty at the most inopportune of times. Who were the wastrels who thought that they knew of Scouting and Honour.
Post-Venturing. I harbored intention of continuing with venturing, but was tied down with rugby. Then this bastard told me I had to join the Rovers.
circa 1960's Steven Yue awarded Queen's Scout. Highest honour that can ever be bestowed upon any scout in the COmmonwealth, and possibly the world, second to only the Baden-Powell award.
I refuse to join the Rovers and refuse to take part in Venturing. Scouting in Whitley now, is USELESS. A bunch of rag-tag juniors and cadets. Numbering less than 15 in all. UTTER RUBBISH. And the conformists who now swell the ranks of the Rovers. And stupid bastards who know nothing, but none the less tyr. I APPLAUD your EFFORT. I try to replicate that scouting honour bestowed on the head of my family. But just look at the plight scouting to me is in NOW!!!
God help me... If there is a GOD
posted by Gabriel at 12:45 am
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