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by RichardUK
This continues my adventures from many years ago, loosely based around the scouting activities of myself and a group of friends in Cyprus where our parents were serving with the armed forces.
In the latter story I told how my close friend, James and I (together with a third boy, Stuart) were abducted from our tent during the night and subsequently "tortured" as punishment for an unprovoked attack which we launched on some of our buddies. Despite the indignities we were put to that night, we agreed that we had basically deserved what happened, the "state of war" was de-escalated and we all remained firm friends and continued our participation in our regular tie-up games throughout the remaining weeks of the long, hot summer vacation. About a week after the camp ended we agreed to have an informal meeting during the day along with the boys in Mike's patrol. There would be fourteen present if everyone turned up and a golden opportunity for a full scale "game". We would meet at 2.00 pm, swim from the adjacent beach then back to the woods for whatever activity was decided upon.
Having nothing better to do, I called for James and we set off before lunch in the hope that some more of our buddies would be there early and we could hang out together until the rest arrived. Unfortunately, there was no sign of any one and we sat on the sand for a while watching the water. This particular cove was isolated and, while it was quite safe for swimming the shore shelved rapidly to deep water. I had therefore been expressly forbidden to swim there alone (being with James was "alone"!) by my parents, particularly as the next bay was altogether much safer, and always had a lifeguard in attendance. The sunshine and gently rippling water however was too much of an attraction and we were soon enjoying our dip, and who would know, anyway?
I had forgotten that my elder brother, Chris, had been invited to join us that afternoon. Chris was 16, almost four years older than I was, and I thought the world of him. For his part, while he was always strict with me, he was scrupulously fair and always went to great lengths to look after his little brother. He had only been a member of our troop a few months before leaving us to join the seniors, but in that short time he seemed to earn everyone's respect. He often came back to help out with our activities. I was therefore shocked when a loud voice suddenly shouted my name and ordered us out of the water. I realized how angry he was by the use of my name - since as long as I could remember he had referred to me as "The Runt" and used the nickname affectionately. The use of my Christian name was bad news! He reminded me of our parent's rule, pointed out that it was for my own good, and the other bay was only a few hundred yards away. I pleaded with him not to tell our father and he finished by telling me that he would decide what to do about it at the end of the day.
Soon the rest of our friends arrived and once back in the water (apart from Chris many of the older boys had life saving awards) the incident was soon forgotten. As we dried out in the sun afterwards someone proposed that we hold a "cockfighting competition". This was enthusiastically agreed, as it was ideal to play on the beach. To explain briefly, the "fight" takes place between two boys. Each contestant has his hands tied in front of him. He then crouches with arms around his knees and is pinioned in that position with a piece of wood (usually a cricket stump) passed behind his knees and through the natural crook of his elbows. Thus bound, and forced to remain in a crouching position, he attempts to force his opponent off balance thereby winning the round. Timing and a sense of balance are more important than weight or sheer strength and it was therefore a popular game with us smaller boys, who could play on equal terms with the older ones. James and I in particular were remarkably successful at this pastime. The soft sand of the beach ensured that no one would suffer any harm in defeat.
I quickly realized that, engineered with care, this might present a golden opportunity for us to get our revenge on our former torturers, in particular Mike and Peter. While they were much heavier than me and my friend, I believed we had every chance of beating them soundly and therefore suggested that each patrol should hold a competition amongst themselves to find their two "champions", and that these four boys should fight an inter-patrol battle to determine the overall winners. This was agreed on immediately. I then cunningly proposed that the two losers should submit to being bound for an hour or two as prisoners of the winners. I saw our adversaries exchange glances, but with surprisingly little resistance the plan was agreed to. I saw smirks on some of their faces that suggested they thought this would be a pushover.
Stumps and rope were quickly produced and our first two contestants had their hands tied and were duly pinioned with the wood. We decided that each boy would fight every other member of the patrol to determine the two most suitable to face the onslaught from Mike's bunch. A few yards away, Mike and Co were similarly engaged. Thirty minutes was all it took for James and me to triumph over the rest, a result which surprised none of us since we had held similar contests within our patrol, invariably with the same result. Mike finally announced that he and Matthew would be our adversaries (more than satisfactory since it was the latter who had inflicted the "water torture" on us a few weeks before although James would have preferred to meet his earlier tormentor, Peter). We saw his followers grinning broadly when they were told that James and I would fight them. Clearly they thought it was only a matter of a few minutes before we would once more be securely tied up for the remainder of the afternoon.
Our buddies tightly bound our wrists and we crouched down a few feet from Mike and Matthew while the stumps were inserted. I was facing Mike, altogether heavier than me, and at the signal he immediately started hopping straight at me with the intention of knocking me over by superior force. I simply turned, and as he approached placed the end of my pinioning stump under his and, with a quick twist Mike was lying, still trussed, on the sand a look of shocked amazement on his face. Matthew fared no better at the hands of James. With my stump quickly removed by my buddies I stood over our trussed and vanquished opponents, my hands still bound, and said gleefully, "Okay guys, payback time!"
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