A Hellions War Story submitted by Mike "Arc" Washington. The events took place at Living Legends of Paintball IV: Escape From New York at CPX Sports in Joliet, Illinois
"The adventure started when I was patrolling to the east of the Temple, the brush in that area is thick and I knew it would be crawling with Blue players looking to capitalize on people who were unwilling to get down and dirty. I crept slowly North towards the road and the sound of the skirmish line. As I approached the tiki-head (on CPX Sports' Temple of Doom field), I ran into several other friendlies whom were proned-out in the treeline. Every few minutes one or two blues would attempt to cross the road but were eliminated by our group.
"As the battle progressed, I got a better line of sight and realized I was behind the main skirmish line of the enemy. I eliminated a player with my marker but it soon misfired and I slung it on my back. Armed only with a pistol, I began to crawl toward the road but quickly I realized I was combat ineffective. Not wanting to give up, I simply walked onto the road and back toward where our friendly players were.
The battle wasn't going well so I stood in the open and helped identify targets and direct fire. At this point in time, the Grindhouse (the Hellions' tank) came over the radio and informed the team it was traveling down the road. In preparation for our much needed armor support, we began to eliminate enemy AT (Anti-Tank) to the best of our ability. The tank soon arrived and I called out the positions that we were unable to route.
"Eventually the tank was eliminated and I walked down the center of the road to attempt to get eyes on the RPG team responsible. Trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, I walked about 20 yards down the road and stood right infront of a enemy player laying in a bush. I looked him straight in the eye and then turned to face the opposite direction. With this player not willing to notice that I didn't call my self out or barrel-sock any of my weapons, all of the blues that came by me paid no attention.
"As I was taking note of the enemies' positions, I noticed the Lapu-Lapu tank coming up the road toward my position. It was making good time and eliminating the friendly players inside of the tree line. I knew if I ran away from it, the blues would notice and if I took cover the tanks gunners would make quick work of me, so I decided to plant my feet and test their powers of observation.
"The tank came to a stop about 20 feet from me and cut its engines. The player that was laying down behind me ran up to the tank and began to engage targets. I walked over to a game referee and asked a question about the finer points of vipers rules with tanks. As I was speaking, the driver opened his door and began to shoot; my eyes lit up. I immediately asked the referee what would happen if the driver were to be eliminated but before I got an answer a round struck the driver in the chest. There were a few minutes of panic as the driver, tank ref and the player tried to figure out how they would get the tank out of danger and I knew this was my chance.
"I stepped back and watched the change of player roles. The original driver took off down the road to make the reinsertion while the other two began to kneel and switch gear. The tank ref. Was cleared to become the driver and the player volunteered to drop his weapon and become a referee. I walked up to the game referee and made sure their role reversal was official. The referee pointed and began to say 'he is now the driver', but I was already closing the distance between my self and the tank. As the new driver turned around and began to climb in, I came right up to the door, drew my pistol and said the two of my favorite words “barrel tag”. I holstered my pistol and intended to walk away but the diver began to scream and let the world know what happen. I didn't bother asking the game referee to intervene as I knew it was too late and started sprinting away. After a few steps I stopped, put my hands over my head and called my self out."
