25 June 2000, Game 1

The first game of the day was to be team elimination (no flags). This was the kind of games we played most often back when I was first playing paintball except that we played on a much larger field and called it "Ambush/Counter-Ambush." For this game I chose to try my vintage Sheridan KP-3 pump gun. Everyone else had semis.

I decided to keep way to the back with Dean to be rear-guard and sniper. When the shooting up front cut the enemy numbers in half I decided to drop back even further and try to get around behind them. I figured that I couldn't do much good up front with all the paint flying around. Before I got too far, enemy numbers were down to one, but he was in a good position and my comrades were having difficulty ferreting him out.

I could tell where he was more from the sound than anything else. I swung around all the way to the bottom of the field, banking on the fire coming from above to keep his attention.

Then I saw him. Prone behind a barrier. Except, from my vantage he was in full view. With each flurry of firing I moved up closer, using the shooting to mask the sound of my movement, until I was at about 15 feet.

I was tempted to move up even closer. Nothing would beat pressing the gun against his head and saying "surrender." but I didn't want to take any friendly fire. And for whatever reason, at 15 feet distant I didn't consider yelling for him to surrender. With his semi, he might have chosen to shoot it out and stood a good chance of succeeding. I was way too exposed for that. I passed on shooting him in the ass and just sent one paintball right into his back.

One shot. One kill.