The bachelor painball party (yes, painball, no typo) was, in Jon Stoeckly's terms "Great Success". The first two games played were 7 on 7, Marines v Nasty's, with all the Marines there being instructors from my school house. Things got nasty from there. As we were walking away to our end of the field, which was called the 'jungle' due to its thick vegetation and terrain, you could tell that the seven shells of men we were leaving behind were visibly worried about what was to come. At the start of the game we broke into two teams of four and three and went hunting, within minutes you could hear the other team on the high ground start picking guys off, accompanied by the embarrassing screams of grown men. On our side we started moving through the underbrush, freaking out Stoeck who was eliminated and watching on the sidelines, as we used hand and arm signals to tactically move in on Mike, the lone remaining civy, who had fortified himself in a bush. That didn't last long. Final score after two games... 14-2.
After that we held a draft and switched the teams up, moving around the park playing different scenarios. I think the lasting image of the day was Long's suicide/rambo charge at the end of the game, shooting one-armed while ducking his head, then realizing that he was about to get lit up, he threw his paintball gun in the general direction of the other guy and ran, arms flailing, voice screaming, in the opposite direction.
Then we sat around drinking some beers near my barracks, where the LA guys realized for the first time just how miserable life on a military base is. Upon seeing my room, and realizing that I share it with two other guys, I heard a few, "dude, this SUCKS'"... Which is why we immediately headed back up to the South Bay to continue the festivities. Beer, Shellback's, more beer, and dragging Clay away from a plate of Garlic Ranch fries at Big Mike's (quite the task) generally sums up that evening.