MvP 5 writeup
|Date||23rd – 24th September 2017|
|Venue||RAF Kirton in Lindsey|
|Players||Soap, Capt Price and Mountain|
|Result||Win. (It couldn't have been more winny)|
RAF Kirton was in active use during the First World War (and its popular sequel) as an airfield and training school. It was also active during the Cold War as a frontline RAF base. Over the years it was passed back and forth between the Army and the RAF, much like your mum.
By 2014 the entirety of the site had been decommissioned, unlike your mum who is still very much on active duty.
From then on the site has been used by dashing paintballers and airsoft virgin types alike.
The site is very large with a central car park filled with lorry trailers. This is surrounded by lots of large buildings. All lower windows were shuttered off and with only 2 entrances to most buildings, it made holding buildings easy, but taking them very hard. Upstairs windows became commanding positions, some of which were effectively unassailable, especially as you could lock some doors from the inside... wtf?
We stayed in the Arties Mill Lodge because even though we love a good middle class hotel, we're still tight. We were the only people staying there which should have been a warning flag. It was so empty in fact, it was reminiscent of the 'Overlook Hotel' from the Shining, with wood cladding covering every available surface. It was a genuine surprise they hadn't clad the bath or indeed the hotel staff.
In the evening, not realising the best pub was nearby, we booked a taxi. Literally 20 metres later, the
£5 please dickheads. Fair cop, Mr Drives, fair cop.
A nice meal, and certainly no more than 2 local ales later, we went back to the hotel. Not finding REDRUM scrawled in blood on any walls, we set about sorting our guns out for maximum efficiency for the next day. Remainging un-murdered, we headed to bed.
Friday night's efficiency work delivered palpable gains, with 2 out of 3 guns immediately going down. 30 mins of classic UE mincing later we were back on - our intimidating full force of three players ready to be brought to bear.
Saturday's game consisted of various objectives and carrying that bone idle dummy 'Dave' around. I'm still to fathom the military tactic that means sacrificing 30+ people for Dave. He must be one important cunt in the dummy hierarchy.
We lost the first game; a fact that was almost certainly due to the three of us not being on the field. This is a UE certified and unbridled FACT, and any words to the otherwise will end up with the perpetrator ending up in a Best Korean sponsored labour camp, or possibly down the mines / making monorails.
We had an excellent general in Colin Barlow of the Scottish Warriors, who directed the team taking key vantage points. The second game was carrying the loafabout that is Dave. We scored victory in this game, then moving on to take all the objectives bar one.
The last game descended into farce as building 10 was designated the sole playing area and objective, although admittedly it was a large building. Upstairs became murder on the dance floor, because there was a literal dance floor and paintballing. That's half the fun of these hyper realistic Urban environments - disco balls.
It shall be known that, for the first time, paintballers were on a dancefloor and no women felt threatened or uncomfortable.
'Strictly come Paintballing' continued and the Marines playing style became more and more reminiscent of the Strictly host, Bruce Forsyth. By that I mean, most of them were Dead.
To help them, their spawn point was moved inside the building. Therefore, the objective to eliminate all players within the building became impossible. Game ended and we awaited the results of the live vote. UE members made their excuses and slinked off to have a wank thinking about Tess Daly.
Incidentally 'Dave' the dummy asked his application to join UE to be fast-tracked. I think you'd have to agree he would be an appropriate fit with the UE team. He approximately as athletic as most of UE, and certianly is about as sexually attractive to women. However, there may be controversy as nobody enjoys having their skills shown up, so his application is being reviewed.
Brigg has 12 pubs, we decided to rate them all. In best UE fashion we spoke to an adult first and established that no pubs were considered too 'stabby'. For our Brucey-bonus, we located the best Indian establishment with a hygiene rating of at least 2 (improvements necessary) or above, for later.
After drinking was done, Soap and Mountain refused to get a taxi ride the 100m home, as they are secret National Trust members and wanted a ramble. Huffy, I marched off to go find a taxi.
The best place to look for a taxi was obviously inside another pub. There was then an incident which will be referred to as 'Bumgate' with a middle aged woman who insisted on showing me her bruised arse. She had allegedly fallen on the aforementioned arse, and sodomy was ruled out by a camera replay. Sadly, to do this she had to pull down most of her 80s style jumpsuit that she was wearing.
After what basically felt like an occular acid attack, I was eventually able to focus. I delicately explained that I thought her arse looked like a wet sandbag with some black pen on it. Both her and her boyfriend took offense for some reason. A brief scuffle ensued with some exception UE cowardice... at which point it was obviously home time.
We returned to hotel and woke up Soap who had fallen asleep in reception. To be fair, reception looked more comfortable than our rooms did.
Like most Urban UK events, the Sunday's games are based around the domination format. This has nothing to do with whips and leather, much to the disappointment of your mum.
Within the game, various capture points came live throughout the day. The marines seemed to hole up in a few buildings but were not aggressive enough to take the objectives. In fact, in a few cases they had control of the building within 2 feet of the capture point. Yet the objective was still being held by the Predators.
To even things up a bit, the SAS team, who'd done sterling work all weekend clearing buildings, were switched onto the blue team. Eventually the teams had been balanced so that the Marine Faction had been bolstered 2:1 players against the Predators.
It helped, but the Predators just seemed better organised and ready for the next objective when it went live. The Marines General John Bunyan was unable to attend and had been replaced by Mike Bulmer. He was quite happy walking around with nothing but large cojones and a radio. Quite regularly on the day he would deploy the 'nonchalant walk' tactic and just amble up and barrel tag players with his radio or er... barrel.
The games were hard fought all through the day and everyone enjoyed themselves immensely. Apart from one of the natives, a woman who walked right up to the perimeter fence and started screaming obscenities at us.
At first, I thought it must be my gran had followed us up here, but no. It turns out that she liked the
army before us... and us very much less so. We were told we should go play our
silly games on our own
land. Well, that was the gist of her explanation, but hers had lots more swearies.
She did not seem to grasp the simplest of explanations, nor the potentially dangerous chance of stray
paint (or not so stray) paint hitting her. She kept ranting for a good twenty minutes, until 4 carefully
placed flash bangs knocked her over (kidding).
It takes all sorts, as my gran used to say.
Although I'm not sure she met someone with Tourette's.
Gareth kept the objectives fairly close together. Despite the size of the site, there were few times where players were searching for the action. The setup was of a high standard as usual with food and extra pyro (or official military term – 'bang bangs') to purchase. Chrono and gas refills were in working order all weekend, no problems. Although it would have been nice to see a 4500psi fill rig in operation. I opted for GI paint, which seems to have been a bit of a problem. The boxes were dropped off the pallet (before it reached Gareth, not his fault) and many of the punters were complaining about broken balls in most bags.
Further to this some of the paint was, for want of a better word, bollocks. It could be described as potato shaped... so maybe Tomahawk for the few extra quid is worth it from now on.
There was a vehicle available for each team too, which was definitely great fun. It could be used for transport, as a rolling barrier, or just pissing about being driven around the site pretending to be 'straight outta Compton'.
We tried it and capped some fools yo.
Actually, it's more like 'straight outta Waitrose'.