Paintball Massacre

Ninety days down. Ten to go. Memory 91/100:

During Marine Week of PROTRAMID (click here for a refresher,) we had a paintball combat simulation. The Marines dressed us in flack jackets and helmets—which seemed really heavy until they told us we didn’t even have the metal plates in them, nor were we wearing the heavy packs—and they handed us rifles that were altered to fire rounds similar to paintballs.

The objective was to maneuver through the miniature city. It was designed solely for this purpose, to teach Marines how to fight in urban terrain. There were apartment buildings, a church, and even a gas station.

We would go in two teams of four. One would be on the left side of the street, and the other would travel along the right side—each would cover the other from shots above and behind.

The teams were made of midshipmen, and the opposing forces were comprised of Marines—trained killers vs. sea pups.

My group was the last of nearly ten, so we had a lot of time to prepare and watch. The Marines annihilated all of the mids. The groups walked slowly down the street, so they were picked off one by one.

We had a staff sergeant assigned to our group as an advisor pre-engagement. He told us to move fast and to not stop or else we’d get pinned down. We practiced moving as a group, and I was put in the number two spot, directly behind the first as his cover.

It was finally our turn, and we were excited to get a chance to try our strategy. Someone gave us our situation: we had to reclaim the church which had been overrun by insurgents. With that, we set off.

We walked at a fast pace until the street lit up with paintball fire. Paint splattered against the wall next to me. The group leader, who had been directly in front of me, started shooting all over the place until he ran out of ammo. Then he took off in a sprint.

I tried to follow him as best I could. As we crossed an alley, I noticed a Marine ducking in a corner. I took two shots at him as I ran by—I probably missed.

They told us to keep moving, even if we were hit (unlike regular paintball, where you are supposed to stop if you’re hit.) So as I moved through the mini city, I felt at least five stinging hits to my arms and legs, but I just kept running.

The Marines pinned us down behind a wall leading up to the church. Someone in our group reminded us that we couldn’t stay there, so we all jumped over and made it to the front door. At that point, we all waited for someone to go in.

“Who’s going in first?”

“I don’t have any ammunition left.”

“Me neither.”

Nobody had ammo. I was the only one. I had almost half of mine remaining.

“I guess I’ll go in.” I wasn’t pleased, but it wasn’t too big of a deal since I had already been painted from head to toe.

I ran into the church and it was filled with Marines. I pulled the trigger rapidly as I pointed the rifle from left to right. I don’t know if I hit anybody, but they all hit me.

The exercise ended there, and they told us we did well for moving, but we spent our ammo too quickly.

We then flew in a CH-53 to the air base near by and toured Marine Corps aircraft.