In the first troop I was in, the scoutmaster was a neighborhood child abuser (a thug). He was also a High School teacher. He tried to suffocate the younger brother of my best friend by shoving a garden hose down his throat and turning on the water.
I was really glad to get out of that troop!
The next troop I joined was fabulous. The scoutmaster was an ex marine who had served in recon in the Phillipines in WW II. We did all kinds of things, like build boats and take them down the Sacramento river from near Shasta dam to Sacramento, and the scoutmaster was the only adult with us (he’d be jailed for that now I guess - child endangerment or some such crap).
New meaning for the Boy Scouts of America with the same letters:
Butthole Surfers of America