However, he is recovering, but I thought his grim experience of the dug out toilet was worth a mention. So here is his story:
Cast your mind back to the weekend if you will, very wet, cold and rather windy. Picture the scene of many small boys, soaking wet and very muddy, singing songs around the camp fire. Picture the cows temporarily rehoused in the next field just for the weekend, and you get an image of the idyllic remoteness that was, for one weekend only, Cub (boot) Camp.
The fact that they were in a cow field meant there were no facilities. No facilities meant that the toilet needed to be excavated from the land. No luxury was spared though, because the hole was suitably covered with a tent, and a plank provided to sit on. Sounds perfectly lovely don't you think?
Anyway, at some point he needed a poo. Off he duly went, striding across the field in a force ten gale, rain lashing down from the sky, and into the toilet tent. Just as he was sitting there, on the plank, bum hanging over the edge, about to' go', and wind whipped off the top of the tent! So there he sat, poor thing, pooing.....pooing in the rain.
Poor love, it made us laugh though!