The rant mentioned the problems and disasters that befell us at the VIP event in 2008. It painted a dark picture of epic failures, and yes, that is certainly one lens to view the game through. But it was also the scene of some equally epic funny times. For this post, we'll focus on the adventures and unfortunate bad luck of one individual I will simply refer to as 'Opie.'
Now don't get me wrong, Opie was and is probably a good dude. Which is to say he meant well... he played with heart... but the VIP event was probably a few degrees above his level of prowess. The team he was attached to was a small squad. One adult player, seasoned and reliable, two young teens who were equally dedicated and proficient... and Opie... If Team * had been a tricycle, Opie would be the 4th wheel.
Each field group was supposed to be a mixed bag of specialized players. An HQ team, some speedballers/heavy hitters, a role player or two and a recon/LRRP group that was to sprint to secure and area, and once that area was locked down, conduct penetration across the field beyond the 50 yard line.
Sadly for us (I think we were red group), the only people who showed up were my brother and I, Team * who were also part of the LRRP, and the FC and his son. None of the shooters, LARPers, or anyone else assigned to Red Group made it to the event. The FC did not arrive until the morning of, so I got to attend the commanders brief the night before where the Prof and the other honchos laid out the plan for the next day (assuming that each group would have 40ish people).
Game day dawned bright and early. I briefed our little recon squad on our task... to sprint off the break along the northern edge of the field and engage/stop the enemy's forward momentum as soon as possible while the rest of the group filled in behind us. We had already field walked the area the day before, even practiced a few sprints to see how far we could get in the first 1 - 2 minutes. Team * seemed up for it and motivated. The problem was as it got closer and closer to the kickoff, we realized we weren't going to have anyone to fill in behind us. I approached the Prof. They said they would try to reassign some people to our zone, but we would need to be able to try and hold it on our own.
Off the break we made decent progress. We reached the hill we'd predesignated as a Rally point and stashed a backpack full of paint, water and grenades, along with an A5 SAW, behind a log bunker with a good view up the draw. That was intended to be the fallback position and we called it 'The Alamo.' Any time we got down to halfstrength, at least two people were to fall back to that position and defend it until help could arrive.
The hours that followed were brutal with fighting in and along the drainage below the hill along the road (see map) When we were shot out we would end up heli-dropped into the opposite corner of the field, often near the castle, and if we survived these drops (which was rare), we would have fight our way back across the field. We fought a few actions up the draw, but most of the day was spent in and around the Alamo dealing with Damage Inc. I began to notice as the day went on that Team * was doing really well. The two teens were strong players and could hold their own, but Opie was not the sharpest knife in the drawer. He became more of a support player and we put him in charge of retrieving ammo and handling comms/running back to base with briefs. Comms weren't critical because we only had inter-squad radios. The FC had joined the Mission Team and took with him the secure line used to communicate with the Prof and the HQ on an official secure channel.
Things got increasingly desperate. The players assigned to help us gradually vanished and went off to do other things until it was reliably just the 6 of us going again and again into the breach, hiding in the bushes, and sacrificing ourselves to get ambush kills. At one point Josh came on the squad comms in a faint whisper. He was hiding somewhere down the draw.
"They are coming... at least six... do not respond to this, they will hear my mic"
and then
"They are really really close now... I am going to turn my radio off... I love you all."
A few minutes later they were on top of him and there was an eruption of gunfire and then nothing until he respawned.
When he turned his radio back on off the field we called in for support.
"Josh, we need some more pods and water."
"Okay."
"This is Opie, I'm in respawn, it just opened, I'll bring paint to you guys."
"Okay man, thanks."
We spread out around the top of the Alamo and waited. Minutes dragged by.
"Opie, where are you?"
"I'm on my way! I'll be there soon."
"Dude, hurry up!"
The route along the tapeline to the top of Alamo took about 40 seconds at run. Even at a walking speed, he shouldn't have taken more than a few minutes. But a few minutes turned into ten and we were getting really low on paint, to the point where we were divying up hoppers. Another ten minutes.
Josh spawned arrived with a few pods within minutes of hitting the field. It helped but it was hardly enough for the 4 of us.
You didn't bring more?
No, Opie said he had it.
Great, but WHERE is he?
He isn't here yet? He inserted before me in the last window!
How is that possible? You didn't see him on your way here?
Nope.
I got back on the radio.
"Goddamn it, Opie, where are you?"
Opie came back on the radio, but was broken up by static.
"I... lost.... where.... soon."
"Opie, come back, where are you?"
"I'm a little lost.. I'll .... "
More minutes dragged by. We now broke apart and scattered as they enemy pressed the hill. We were low crawling through the bushes, taking pots shots at people who were only meters away. It was getting bleak.
My radio crackled. This time Opie was completely unintelligible. The Motorolas had a 2 mile range. Now there were trees and minor elevation changes, but the field was only about a halfmile wide and clearly marked with tape. If he was on the field, there's no way he could be stressing the coverage.
And then a big push came and rolled up over the hill in a wave and we were all dead.
We went off the field, rekitted and headed back to the respawn. As we sat there, Opie came stumbling out from the woods opposite the field.
Opie? Where the hell have you been? Taking a piss?
OMG guys! I'm so happy to see you!
Where have you been?
I don't know!
What do you mean you don't know?
I inserted and I went left and then I just kept walking.
.... and...?
And I walked and I walked and I couldn't hear you guys shooting any more!
So?
So then I came out in a backyard and there were little kids on a trampoline and I wanted to ask for directions... but they saw me and started screaming for their mommy so I just turned around and came back.
What?
At this point Opie was mentally re-classified from 'questionable asset' to 'well-intentioned liability.' His impact was far from over and his coup-de-grace was yet to come, but we can break down something of what happened thanks to Google Earth. It is probably for the best he did not ask for directions. Given the choice between facing a mother who emerges from her house to the chorus of her screaming children and sees a young man dressed to the 9's in camo and burdened with intimidating-looking equipment asking directions in a panic and a hurried retreat, I think he opted for the right move. Though what I wouldn't have given to be a fly on that trampoline if it had gone down.
Here we have a general field map. The borders of Sherwood Forest play area are shown in yellow. You can clearly our respawn, base and location of the Alamo and our 'red' zone of responsibility. Opie had around 100 meters to cover and could have done so in less than a minute. But assuming that he respawned as Josh was leaving the field, and then Josh had to wait another 20 minutes to get back in play, and he arrived before Opie... and then we fought another 10 - 15 minutes before getting overrun, returned to the camping area and then back to respawn (10 minutes).... that is nearly an hour. The journey of the ill-fated Opie had to be substantial.
Out of curiosity after the game, I set out to analyze what he did wrong. Where the hell had he gone? A house? A trampoline? An hour journey? As far as I can figure there are 4 houses within walking distance that he could have reached.
Here we have a map showing the 4 most likely locations he arrived to.
House A is the closest possibility, but I think we can rule that out because he would have had to enter the field and get so turned around that he crossed back over the tapeline, back over the road and headed completely in the wrong direction immediately. He was no genius, but I don't think this is a reasonable hypothesis.
Given that we met him emerging from the west when we arrived back as spawn, House D presents itself as a nice option, but again, he would have had to get turned around 180 degrees while still in familiar territory, occupied by friendlies and within earshot of the spawn, other players etc. So let's rule out D as unlikely as well.
House B then becomes a possibility. If you zoom in they have a pool and a nice home, possibly own a trampoline as well. Opie could have gotten on the field, headed north following the tapeline and then mistakenly crossed it and continued. But that house is only a few hundred meters from the field. Even if he was stalking his way towards it, it does not justify a 40+ minute journey that brought him near to the limits of radio range.
That leaves us only with House C, unless he trucked out even further. I lean toward C and I am inclined to suppose the following occurred.
Opie enters the field shortly after Josh has been shot, exited and turned back on his radio. Opie is laden with paint and water and he wasn't the most fit guy, so he starts humping towards us. Assuming it was a close helo drop (it was the afternoon, and we had stopped the suicide runs), he is close to HQ and heads towards our base to intersect the tapeline path and wrap up to the Alamo from behind, the safest and most familiar approach. However, the swampy bushes behind the base may have obscured the tapeline. At some point, he mistakenly crosses it. He continues heading North, and in typical Opie fashion does not question why the sounds of fighting recede. He is loyal, we need paint, he chugs on for nearly a half a mile through forest, hill and dale until he emerges, tired and confused, in the backyard of House C and encounters the children. Here, he realizes he has fucked up, is lost and not in Kansas anymore. He panics and begins heading back the way he came. He angles west in his confusion, intersects the wood road that he should have followed back to camp, but crosses it and continues on, wandering southerly until he gets within earshot of the respawn, whereupon he makes a hard turn to the East and rejoins us at the spawn.
It is possible he walked further, especially given the degradation of radio quality. But I think these four houses are the most reasonable, given the time frame, his loadout and ... skills. There are obvious and very basic navigational mistakes he made that and easy corrections he should have made that we don't really need to go into, so here I simply present you the most likely Odyssey of Opie.
Part 2: Heart of Darkness, coming soon.
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