Chapter 1

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Pam Martin is pleased. The quarterly reports were finished, so the boss let the office staff go an hour and a half early. Pam turned off Route 272 onto Zook’s Mill Road in Brownstown, PA and then onto her development street. A girl’s bike is parked on the sidewalk. Her oldest son, Mark was in Wilkes Barre visiting his college girlfriend. Both are freshmen at Shippensburg University. Daughter Amy, 16, was expected to be home along with her 14-year-old brother, Ian.

Pam came inside and looked for her children to let them know she is home. She found Ian’s favorite shirt, a white Nittany Lion football jersey with a blue #85, laying in the doorway to the family room. A girl’s bra was laying on top of the shirt. Pam stepped into the room to find Ian, naked from the waist up, sprawled over his girlfriend, Lisa Bowman. Lisa’s blouse is opened wide and Ian’s head is buried in her titties. Lisa’s jeans are unbuttoned and Ian’s hand is down in Lisa’s panties.

Pam cleared her throat loudly. “MOM!” Ian gasped as he turned and saw his mother staring at him and Lisa. He sprang off his girlfriend from the shock of being caught. The fourteen-year-old boy blushed crimson.

“Mrs. Martin!” Lisa gasped as she covered her titties with crossed arms.

“It might be a good time for you to head home, Lisa,” Pam directed.

“It isn’t what it looks like,” Ian protested. Lisa hurried to get dressed again and then fled. She grabbed her bra as she left.

“It is exactly what it looks like,” Pam said to her stunned youngest son.

“I can explain,” Ian protested as he blushed.

“Get dressed and head upstairs to your room,” Pam directed. She noted the pronounced bulge in her son’s pants. Ian apparently was packing too, just like his well-endowed father.

“Am I grounded?” Ian asked as he grabbed his shirt.

“You and Dad will have a talk tonight,” Pam replied. “We will see.” The scared teen retreated to the privacy of his bedroom.

Pam picked up the phone and called her husband John at work. “Tag, your it.”

“Tag?” John replied blankly to his wife.

“I had the last sex talk with Ann,” Pam explained. “It is your turn tonight.”

“Any particular reason for tonight?”

“I found YOUR son with his head buried in his girlfriend’s titties a few minutes ago when I came home early.”

“SHIT!” John exclaimed.

“Yeah ... it gets better,” Pam responded. “He had his hand down her panties too.”

“SHIT!” John repeated. “Was this foreplay or the main event?”

“I would guess the main event for them, but I don’t know,” Pam answered. “In any case, Ian’s sex talk is way overdue.”

“I’ll be ready tonight,” John said. “I will be a few minutes late. I expect I should stop at the drug store and make sure Ian has protection ... just in case.”

“That would be prudent,” Pam agreed.

Ian was ushered into John Martin’s home office after a strained and very quiet dinner.

“Am I grounded, Dad?” Ian asked as soon as he sat down in front of his father’s desk.

“I am not here to ground you,” John replied, trying to keep his voice even. “I want to talk to you about what you and Lisa were doing this afternoon. Sex is a complicated business and...”

“We weren’t having sex!” Ian exclaimed, interrupting. “I swear! We weren’t.”

“You weren’t having sexual intercourse,” John replied. “You were having a sexual relationship with Lisa.”

“No ... we were just fooling around a little,” Ian allowed.

“Your mouth was on her breasts?” John asked. Ian blushed but gave his father a small grin and nodded yes. “You had your hand down her panties?”

“Yeah,” Ian replied, grinning a little wider.

“Fun?” John asked. Ian’s smile grew wider still. “A lot of fun?”

“Yeah,” Ian admitted.

“Second base ... third base ... that can be a lot of fun,” John said. “You may not have been having intercourse, but you and Lisa were engaged in heavy-duty foreplay. It is a very slippery slope from where you are today to getting carried away and having intercourse. A very slippery slope indeed.”

“We weren’t going to do it today, I swear we weren’t,” Ian protested.

“But you would have if your mother hadn’t walked in and Lisa had said yes to you?” John asked, staring at his son. Ian gulped and blinked. “You don’t need to answer that question. I was fourteen once. Fourteen is very young to be getting into something as dangerous as sex.”

“I am not that young,” Ian responded. “Plenty of guys in my grade are doing it. How old were you when you did it the first time?”

“My first time?” John commented. His mind started to wander back to that day. He shook his head. “I was a month shy of fifteen. You are fourteen.”

Ian stared at his father for a few seconds. His dad, whose birthday was February 3rd, just admitted his first time with a girl was in early January, 1988. One of his dad’s fondest memories was attending the World Jamboree in Australia, when he was fourteen. His dad had shown the pictures to his family many times. Ian remembered one picture of his dad and his dad’s best friend growing up, Mark Weaver. The photos showed them with two very cute girls. He gasped as he realized the import of that picture.

“You lost your cherry at the World Jamboree in Australia?” Ian gasped, trying not to laugh too much. John gave his son a sheepish grin before nodding yes.

“I know what I am talking about when I tell you it is very easy to go from what you were doing today to having intercourse,” John stated, trying to keep his voice even. “Having sex with another person is emotionally challenging, and can have physical consequences.”

“Like knocking the girl up?” Ian said.

“Pregnancy is a concern,” John agreed. “There is the potential for sexually transmitted diseases. Having intercourse isn’t something to be done lightly.”

“So, now what?” Ian asked. “Am I grounded for what Lisa and I were doing? For doing something you were doing when you were my age?”

“No, you aren’t grounded,” John answered. “I just want you to take your time and think before you act on the feelings you are having. I want you to be safe.” John reached down and set a box of condoms on his desk in front of his son. Ian’s eyes opened wide in surprise. His dad giving him a supply of rubbers was the last thing he expected in this world.

“Be careful and be sure before you and Lisa have intercourse,” John said. “Sex comes with strong emotions and you, Lisa or both of you can be hurt if you aren’t careful. Be safe if the two of you decide you want to move forward and be intimate.”

“So, I am not in trouble for today?” Ian asked. John shook his head no. “You and Mom won’t get ticked off if Lisa and I decide we want to ... to have sex ... you know ... sexual intercourse?”

“Having sexual experiences is a part of growing up,” John said. “I can no more forbid you from having sex than I can forbid you from growing until you are taller than me.” Ian, at 5’-10”, with huge hands and feet, was expected to match if not surpass his father’s 6’-2” height. His grandmother, his dad’s mother, predicted he might match his cousins Kyle and Andrew, who were close to 6’-5” tall.

“Your mother and I want you to be safe and happy as you grow up,” John said. “Especially the safe part. Don’t get carried away and risk getting your girl pregnant. I will get you more of these if you need more.”

“OK, Dad,” Ian said. He hesitated for a moment before deciding to push further. “Be safe? Is this something you learned the hard way growing up?”

“No ... no, not exactly,” John replied. It was his turn to blush in embarrassment. “I didn’t ... at least I don’t think I got any girls pregnant when I was a teen.”

“The girl you had your arm around in the Jambo picture with Mark Weaver,” Ian pressed. “She was the one?” John blushed deeper before nodding his head yes. “What was her name?”

“Tess,” John said. “Tess Visser.”

“She was German?”

“Dutch actually,” John replied.

“Can I ask you a personal question, Dad?” Ian asked. “I know this from my friend, Dave Nunemacher, who went to the World Jamboree in Sweden last summer. He said they had tents in each subcamp where Scouts could get rubbers for free. Did they have that in Australia?”

“They did not,” John replied. “Thus ... the reason I know how dangerous it can be to get carried away sexually.”

“Holy shi ... Holy cow!” Ian exclaimed. “You and this girl Tess ... you did it without protection? I could have a...” Ian paused for a second to do the math. “ ... a twenty-two-year-old brother or sister?”

“It is not impossible, but I don’t think that happened,” John replied. “That is why I have these for you.” John pushed the box of condoms towards his son. Ian took them off the desk.

“If you or Lisa aren’t sure if you should have sex, don’t,” John said. “You aren’t ready. If and when both of you are sure you are ready, be safe.”

“OK ... we will,” Ian promised. “Anything else, Dad?” John shook his head no. Ian disappeared from the office, carrying his new supply of condoms. The enormity of this conversation and what most likely would come next staggered the young teen. He and Lisa had been debating going all the way for a few weeks. Lack of protection had thwarted his best efforts to get past third base and head for a home run. Ian closed the office door behind him.

John sat in the quiet office. The talk hadn’t gone too badly, he thought. It certainly went better than his stuttering efforts with Ian’s older brother Mark. Thankfully Mark had managed to navigate teenhood without managing to knock up any girls.

My trip to Australia for the XVIII World Jamboree/Mondial was one of the highlights of my time in Boy Scouts when I was growing up. My mind drifted back to that trip, twenty-three years earlier.

My Troop 403, was made up of Scouts from around Pennsylvania, excepting the Pittsburgh and Philadelphia areas. Two other Jamboree troops served the Scouts from those two cities and their suburbs. I went with one friend from my hometown of Paradise – Mark Weaver. Mark and I were two of the eight Scouts from Lancaster County among the thirty-six Scouts in our troop. Robert Smucker, our Jamboree scoutmaster for the trip, was an attorney from Lancaster. One of the assistant scoutmasters came from Reading, the next county to the northeast. Another was adult was a doctor from State College. The third assistant scoutmaster, a college aged guy named John Ioanni, came from Chester County, the county to the east.

I had more in common with John Ioanni than our shared first names. I lived just south of Route 30 in Paradise. John Ioanni lived just south of Route 30, about forty miles to the east in Devon, PA. I hit it off with the eighteen-year-old assistant scoutmaster, who was in his freshman year at the University of Delaware. John Ioanni’s family was deep into Scouting and the Jamboree. His father was scoutmaster for the southeast Pennsylvania Troop 531. His younger brother Jim Ioanni was a member of that troop too.

Troop 403 departed Pennsylvania from the Harrisburg airport on December 22nd for a long flight out to Los Angeles. Our troop met up with eleven other troops from Northeast Region and boarded a 747 bound for the American Samoa. We spent a day there before flying on to Melbourne, Australia. We were bused over to a Scout Hall, where the Scouts were paired off with local Scouting families for Christmas. I was paired with Mark Weaver for the holiday.

We spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with David and Joanne Kennedy and their children, Billy and Lisa. Billy was fifteen. Lisa was ten. Both kids belonged to 1st South Frankston group. Billy was a member of their coed venturing troop. Lisa had just stepped up to the girl guide troop. Mr. Kennedy was head of the 1st South Frankston group of Cub, Daisy, Boy Scout, Girl Guide, Venturer and Rover troops.

The Kennedys were gracious hosts who delighted in showing off Frankston to us. Walking the three blocks down to the beach and swimming on Christmas morning seemed surreal to Mark and me. The 30C (86F) temperature didn’t remind either of us of any Christmas we had in their lives. The Kennedys had gifts for us. Mark and I came prepared with gifts for our host family too.

Mark and I enjoyed our time with the Kennedys but it ended too quickly. Billy made the two of us promise to visit him at the Jamboree site. He was in Troop 320. Mr. Kennedy was working on the Subcamp 2 staff. We could visit him there, if we wished.

The Kennedys dropped us off at the 1st South Frankston Scout Hall, where we boarded a bus with the other thirty-four Scouts and four adults in our troop. The bus hauled the troop up to Melbourne proper, for a tour of the city. They ended up back south of Melbourne at Monash University after a day of touring.

The following day a tour bus took my troop up to Ballarat to tour the re-creation of a nineteenth century gold mining town. After another night at Monash University, we met the other Northeast Regions troops and flew to Canberra. The group toured the Australian capital for a day before busing to Sydney. The Northeast Region contingent toured Sydney for two days, staying at the University of Sydney. One morning’s tour included a half hour visit to look at Bondi Beach, the most beautiful beach I had ever seen. I and the other Scouts would have loved to stay and swim, but the schedule called for a three-hour tour of a sheep farm instead. Mark and I swore they would visit Bondi Beach again, if we got a chance. Especially we wanted to visit the right end of the beach, where tops were optional.

All American Scouts had a show their final night before the Jamboree. Rumors swept through the contingent that INXS would be playing for them. To many kids’ disappointment, a lame rock cover band played for a while and then too many Scout executives talked to the group. The following morning the U. S. contingent was bused down to Cataract Scout Park and the Jamboree site.

Troop 403 marched from the drop off point down a wide trail through the woods. While it was woods, I stared at the trees in wonder. They looked nothing like I had ever seen back home in Pennsylvania. The briefing book each scout got before the Jamboree reported the most common tree would be the eucalyptus. They passed a gateway announcing “Emu Subcamp Five.”

A quarter mile later a big gateway announced “Kookaburra Subcamp Four.” Mr. Smucker, our scoutmaster, checked a map and directed the troop to the left down one of the “streets” in the subcamp. Our campsite wasn’t far from the subcamp entrance. The Scouts looked over our home for the next two weeks. It was a plot of ground around 100 feet wide and 150 feet deep. A large eucalyptus centered along the frontage of the campsite, provided some shade for the otherwise open campsite.

Mr. Smucker and the youth troop leaders organized the setup. Two rows of tents were placed along the sides of the campsite. Three larger tents were set up along the back of the campsite for the leaders and troop equipment. Most of the troop was involved in lashing together a set of yellow pine spars to build a frame for a large dining fly in the center of the campsite for the troop dining area and kitchen.

The Flaming Arrow Patrol was sent off to the subcamp commissary to bring back food for lunch and dinner. After dinner the troop leaders’ council met to arrange duties and organize the troop’s daily routine for the duration of the Jamboree. Mark and my patrol, the Phoenix Patrol, met with our patrol leader, Mike McLean. Mike reviewed the routine with the Mark, me and the other five Scouts in our patrol.

Reveille for Troop 403 was 6:30 AM. Breakfast was at 7:30 AM and Scouts were free to wander the Jamboree site and do program after breakfast until dinnertime. Lunches were bagged and handed out to Scouts after breakfast. You ate lunch wherever you were. All Scouts were due back at the campsite by 5:00 PM. After dinner you were free to wander the Jamboree site again until curfew, 10:00 PM. Every fourth day, your patrol would be the “Service Patrol” and would be responsible for cooking, cleanup and any other duties needed to keep the troop’s campsite operating for the day. Service Patrol members would have a couple hours in the morning and afternoon to visit around the Jamboree, between meals.

As chance would have it, my and Mark’s patrol was the Service Patrol for December 31st. We were busy from 6:00 AM wake up until after the dinner dishes were finished around 7:00 PM that evening. In addition to the normal Service Patrol duties, there were a myriad of things to finish setting up, including their troop’s gateway to their campsite.

The troop headed off to the Jamboree arena around ten o’clock in the evening. The opening ceremonies would continue past midnight, to celebrate the arrival of the new year, 1988. The show included too much hurry up and wait until the Australians managed to seat 17,000 Scouts and Scouters in the grassy arena. Too many men talked to the group and too little entertainment was provided. Most of the acts were kind of lame. Mr. Smucker and the other leaders kept the troop quiet through the bulk of the show.

The large crowd chanted out the countdown to midnight. The five minutes of fireworks after midnight arrived gave the big crowd a fun finale. The 17,000 Scouts filed back to their campsites afterward. Mark and I didn’t get to bed until almost 1:00 AM.

January 1, 1988

Reveille came too early for everyone. We had recovered from our jet lag from our 30-hour flight to Australia a few days ago but last night was too short. We dragged through breakfast. Mike gathered Phoenix Patrol together after we finished our meal. He handed out tickets to today’s activity, the obstacle course. The Australian commandos had built a 4.5-kilometer obstacle course to challenge the Scouts. Some guys wanted to head straight to the course and do it as a patrol. Others had places they wanted to go first. They planned to do the course after lunch, in hope the lines might be shorter. After a bit of discussion, our patrol decided we’d split up and do the course whenever we wanted, as long as we kept the buddy system. Mark, my tentmate, was also my buddy for the duration of the Jamboree.

Mark and I headed down to the program area and the obstacle course immediately. We hoped to get near the front of the line and finish our activity so the rest of our day would be free to explore other things at the Jamboree site. No such luck. We arrived around 9:30 that morning. There had to be at least 150 Scouts in line ahead of us.

Mark and I shrugged our shoulders and joined the line. It turned out to be the right decision. Thirty seconds later two girls joined the line right behind us. One, a blond with her hair in a pony tail, was around 5’-4” and maybe a 110 pounds. The other, with shoulder length light brown hair, was maybe a half inch taller, but no heavier than her friend. They were wearing brown shorts, that came to mid-thigh. Their legs were long and pretty. They were wearing green T-shirts that said, “Scouting André de Thaye, Arn0hem, NL.”

After looking the two over quickly, Mark leaned close to me and whispered, “They’re hot looking chicks. Where do you think they’re from?” I am an avid reader of history and knew what the NL on their shirt meant. They were from the Netherlands, specifically the city of Arnhem, where the British paratroopers dropped onto two SS Panzer Divisions during World War II. I loved the movie, “A Bridge Too Far.”

Rather than answering Mark directly, I turned to them and asked, “Netherlands? Are you from the Netherlands? Do you speak English?”

The blond gave me a big smile and answered, “Yes, I speak English. Mila and I are from the Netherlands. I suppose you are American Scouts?” That was pretty obvious. Mark and I both were wearing our blue Jamboree T-shirts emblazoned with the words, “Boy Scouts of America.”

“I am John Martin,” I replied. “It is good to meet you.”

“I am Tess Visser,” she replied. “This is my best friend Mila Van Dijk.”

“Mark Weaver,” Mark added.

Mark, Tess, Mila and I talked while we waited our turn for the obstacle course. It turned out my guess was correct. They lived in Arnhem, along the Lower Rhine River. Their Scout troop had both boys and girls, aged 10-15. They were surprised that our troop allowed only boys to join. The BSA didn’t go coed until you turned fourteen and joined an Explorer Post. The girls’ Scouting André de Thaye Groepen had Explorers, but you didn’t join until you turned fifteen. Tess and Mila were both fourteen like Mark and me. Tess’ birthday was in October, Mila’s in November and Mark’s in August. I was the oldest of the four of us. I would turn fifteen in a month.

The girls were interested when we talked about our Amish neighbors in Paradise. The girls knew of the Amish but didn’t know much more than they dressed different, had no electricity and rode horse drawn carriages. I explained that they were called buggies not carriages.

We talked through most of the hour and a half we waited in line for our turn to run the obstacle course. I enjoyed getting to know the girls. They seemed to enjoy talking with Mark and me. I was surprised how easily I could talk with Tess and Mila. Usually I got tongue-tied around girls. I guess it was the Jamboree situation. I knew I couldn’t take Tess or Mila on a date while I was at the Jamboree. There was no pressure. I could just talk with a cool girl I met.