Monday, March 30, 2009

War Stories, pt. III - "Nat Wu's War"

Last time, we recounted the story of Drake21 and one of his adventures on the field of paint. This time, I give you Nat-Wu's telling, of the same action, from a differet angle:

As [Drake21] rolled up the extreme left, Chad and Dave were sprinting forward on the edge of the trench. The opposing team had left it almost completely undefended. As a matter of fact, those players were so raw most of them clumped together on the left side of the field. On the right side of the field, which was only 50 feet wide, max, they had split up into smaller groups to try to take advantage of the barriers and cover. The problem with that was that they had neglected to strategize their disposition, with the end result that there were two men far forward, with the rest scattered thinly in other bunkers. My team didn't sprint forward at the whistle, as the left side did because our opponents had more cover, and with only 4 men we didn't want to risk losing half our men in a wasteful dash forward when we could simply work our way up there methodically.

I believe my partner was Tony, and Danny and William were the team that took just right of the trench. A few seconds after the whistle blew, we began working our way forward. Almost immediately we heard an unholy amount of fire on the left side, but at the moment we were staying focused on our side. It took almost half a minute before we started taking some light fire. Drake21's team's fight at the bunker was taking all the attention off us (as the Wiki guy says, people go to firefights like bees to flowers), so we did a very simple bounding overwatch with suppressive fire (also known as "shoot and scoot") to take out the first two enemies in their little bunker. We probably only had 6 or 8 of the 22 on our side of the field though, because as we methodically advanced and destroyed them, they provided each other very little support. About 4 minutes into the match, we weren't facing any more opposition and both trench teams were busy enfilading enemy positions on the left side of the field. Tony and I raced up just in time to get in a few last shots as our team (all 8, if I recall correctly) steamrolled the last of their resistance. It was literally like shooting fish in a barrel. The last four guys on the left were barricaded in a bunker that was protected from the left side of the field, but not the right, so both trench teams just unloaded on them. After that, the game was actually over although we didn't know it.

We met our left-side team as they crossed the trench and we inspected the last bit of the back of the right side. I don't recall finding any holdouts, although I suppose it's possible (it's been a while anyway).

Indeed, the field of paintball was one of a nearly clinical dispatch of the enemy. That is, when some of us weren't getting shot in the ass, or unexpectedly jumping into ditches as tall as us, or losing our tempers and yanking other people's equipment apart. More stories for later, of course.