Our leader sent us out onto the dark playing fields, each Cub paired up with a buddy. The mission - half the troop was to hide as effectively as possible, and the other half to find them. Being remarkably creative, my fellow Cub (can't remember his name) and I lay in long grass alongside a small walking bridge that spanned a drain separating the playing fields. Our black socks pulled up to hide our legs, our shirts lifted to cover our necks, and our arms tucked under us. Rambo would have been proud of our efforts to blend into the dark environment.
We lay there hearing others being discovered, hearing the footsteps of others running across the small walking bridge, all oblivious to our stealthily slumber in the grass. Then, all of a sudden, a fellow Cub named George, stops on the bridge. Can he see us ? Are we the last to be discovered ? I thought we were safe.
No, the little bastard proceeds to take a pee from the bridge, and our shirts are soaked as we tried to remain still. Enough of the war games... I jumped up and screamed at George "My mum will kill you George".
We wandered back to the club house with very mixed feelings. We were the last to be discovered, yet our efforts had been rewarded with nothing more than wet shirts that clung to our backs, and the aroma of George only a warm bath could remove. Childhood is filled with all manner of adventures :-)