For those who want to skip my little story (u slackers) and just check out the photos and videos, go ahead and click the link below.
http://www.youtube.com/profile?user=dineroseguroA few weeks ago, at the end of May, I was on the net searching for 4WD destinations within Oklahoma, looking for an easy trail to christen my Jeep. There's not very much, one hit finally claimed to have trails, but off-roading wasn't the main attraction of the place. Called the
D-Day Adventure Park, it hosts an annual event named Oklahoma D-Day, which claims to be the largest paintball event in the world. Intrigued I read on, and learnt of how it's classed as 'woods' scenario paintball, with Allies vs Germans in a re-creation of the battles of D-Day 1944 in Normandy. I then noticed with a shock that the start date was less than a week away! June 4th to 10th, it's a week long event with a series of scenarios and skirmishes, including a night game, culminating in the day-long battle of D-Day involving 4000 players!
My other plans for the night went out the window as I read through the facts, history and discussion forums, all the while forming a plan to go, as it was guaranteed to be an experience unlike any other, and it was the 10th anniversary of the event. I found a forum post from a guy named Patrick from Indiana, who had 3 friends drop out recently and was selling cheap tickets. Online registration was ending the next day, and the ticket price of $65 was about to go up to $110. I told Todd, asked him to pass it onto his mates, next day I told a bunch of people at work, the original plan was to go just to the night game taking place the following thursday night. I emailed & left a voice message for Patrick letting him know I was keen for those tickets. Only my work neighbour Kevin actually committed, being too expensive or short-notice for everybody else, and late that night Patrick called me back and I had the tickets for $35 each. Unfortunately, wednesday morning Kevin broke his thumb in an accident at his rowing club when he was moving a boat rack. So plans changed, and I ended up getting my boss to agree to giving me friday off, and I would go solo staying from thursday right through to sunday.
During the remaining days up to thursday I was hunting for gear, I went all the way to Del City (20 miles) in my lunchbreak only to find the army surplus store closed due to family emergency (what can you do). But in Okla city's surplus store I bought camo pants & matching jacket (even with the 552nd AGS insignia patches still sewn on), $15 each. Cheap boots from Wal-Mart for $15, borrowed an esky from Todd, a marker (paintball gun) from Nate with all the gear, and set up homemade fly screens for my Jeep as I would finally test out sleeping in the car.
Struggled through work thursday and scooted early in the arvo to haul ass up to Wyandotte in the NE corner of the state near the Missouri border and Grand Lake. That area is called Green Country, and is quite scenic, where patches of thick forest hang over the roads and rolling hills. It's the most scenic country I've seen since the plains infront of the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. I got to the D-Day park & met Patrick at the entrance, following him the short distance to the left where he was camped with the rest of Charlie company, 1st Infantry Division. Everyone was camped according to which forces they were assigned to, to improve group coordination, communication and to not disturb others with differing deployment times. I met Travis, Patrick's mate, a likeable bearded 19yr old who looked my age. All I had time to do was queue up for registration, get my blue allied hopper cover (a hopper is the paintball container attatched on top of the marker, which is the gun), watch the introduction video, jump in my camo, grab Travis' spare Tippmann 68 Carbine and head over to chrono. 'Chrono' is firing the marker through a chronograph so that it shoots paintballs at 250fps (feet per second). This was lower than the standard 285fps because the night game involved close quarters combat, sometimes point blank. After chrono, we went to the assembly area to form up with Charlie company.
I was amazed at the number of players, everyone fully decked out in battle gear vastly exceeding anything I'd ever seen at a paintball game, looking seriously fearsome. At least I looked the part, except these guys had belts strapped with pods of paintball ammo, allowing them to easily carry several hundred, even 1000 paintballs. the Allies had won the toss apparently and elected to assault a place called Coleville, the Germans defending. In the failing light, our company marched off along the road through the forest to the area on the map that represents Coleville, a large circular clearing containing concrete bunkers, tubes, and grassy trenches and mounds, with a single flagpole near a tower in the center flying the red German flag. It was very intimidating looking through my yellow visor to see all of the German forces dug in all throughout Coleville right to the outermost trenches, some barely 10m from the Allied lines! As we encircled them, exchanging humourous trash talk, I had a feeling I was jumping in the deep end. I was to find out later that the numbers were roughly 500 on 500, all contained within Coleville, less than 200m across. The stars were coming out, the night air was warm, the last twilight glow had 15mins left to live, and the German trenches crawled with silhouettes moving about. Referees stood spread out between the lines in bright fluorescent clothing that begged 'don't shoot me'. A megaphone announcement sounded 1 minute to game on, and all the movement stopped; everyone was ready. I focused on my objective, the nearest mound, left of straight ahead about 15m away...
Game on was an explosion of sound, the combined noise of overhead fireworks, booming concussion explosions, shouting, the rumble of soft thudding boots running on grass, and an amazing crackle of gunfire. I could hear my breathing inside my mask as I sprinted with a couple dozen allies for the mound and half-dove to the ground behind it, those who didn't fit lay flat on the ground behind. I lost Patrick and Travis within the first minute and didn't see them for the rest of the game. The sound of gunfire was constant until the last glow of twilight had gone, and then it reduced to sporadic popping and short bursts. During the dark, quieter periods, troops strategised, grouped and made advances. You couldn't see much beyond the nearest 5-10m. But every few minutes, the organisers would fire off some kind of pyrotechnics, the best of which were flares. Suddenly a whizzing orange light would shoot up from the forest line high into the air to the windward side of Coleville, and people would start shouting "Flare, Flare!" as a sign to either get ready to shoot, or take cover. The flare would fly 100m high I guess, and then there'd be a pop (parachute deployed) and then gradually over about 5 seconds, an eerie orange glow illuminated everything and everyone around you. Every single flare was the trigger for a massive firefight that would last a minute until the flare burned out, and the scene would reduce back to darkness, the gunfire reducing again to bursts and pops shortly afterwards. Travis later told me he was in the middle of crawling prone on the ground between trenches when a flare went off, and he just laid still and somehow wasn't seen (or shot). It sure was a spectacle, on a couple of occasions I stayed behind cover and simply watched, as a flare began burning and illuminated dozens of allied players all laying on the ground around me, half of them shooting like crazy, some of them getting shot with blotches of orange paint, turning and raising their gun in the air and getting quickly out of the line of fire. The din of gunfire was as if you filled a microwave with popcorn and turned it on, multiplied by 100x. Paintballs whizzed through the grass just above my head, and dozens more spattered on the concrete tube just above & next to me where a couple of Allies hid behind, leaning out to shoot briefly before pulling their bodies back and drawing heavy fire.
I heard a few good stories later about the gameplay, apparently a lone German came from the side upon a trench full of unsuspecting Allies in the dark, and after asking them if they were Allies, he ran along the trench barrel tagging about 8 players before someone shot him. A barrel tag is where, in extreme close quarters (ie. next to each other), instead of shooting at point blank, you either demand surrender or you touch the opponent with your gun. Patrick also told me he was involved in probably the biggest Allied push of the night towards the flagpole near the end of the game, and he ran and jumped and touched the flag, but got 'lit up' (slang for being shot several times) by the surrounding Germans. I got shot a couple of times, resulting in trips to the 'Dead Zone' where dead people wait until every quarter hour a field commander regrouped everyone and marched them back out to re-insert into battle. After an hour of play, a fierce storm with constant lightning had been approaching from the south, adding to the amazing atmosphere as flashes of lightning mixed with fireworks. But before the Allies could take the flagpole, drop the red and raise the blue flag, the game was called 45mins early on account of the impending severe storm, so the Germans won one of their few victories of the event.
It turned out to be one hell of a stormy night. Half of the campers had left earlier in the day ditching the night game, booking out motels for miles around, as everyone had advance warning throughout the day. Those who remained (the better half) were told by organisers on the PA to secure all their gear and take cover in their 've-hicles'. I'd barely had enough time to walk back, snap some lightning pics and change when the first storm hit. What's funny was the boys had put together a neat pile of wood and were attempting to light a big fire, squirting something flammable onto it just as the first gusts of wind blew through. It lifted all this dust from the road and I rushed to close my car doors and jump inside, and then the rain hit and the guys went scrambling for their cars and the fire was out in seconds. I ate dinner (trail mix sandwiches) safe inside while outside it all went pretty nuts for about 10mins. Then it was over, organisers drove around announcing it was over (duh), and said there was a 'slight chance of some more rain but the worst had gone'. I was woken up at about 12:30am by a second, even bigger storm, with constant lightning, wind rocking the car and rain lashing the sides. I could see, with each flash of lightning, the big-top in the center of the grounds waving about wildly, directly upwind of me. Then my phone rang and it was Jessi, she was out clubbing and had seen a tornado warning issued for my county and called to see whether I was in the storm. I said 'yeah, im pretty sure we're in it' as the wind gusted in a circle around my car so rain lashed the left side, then paused, then the right side. I spoke to her for a while and watched the tents around me being blown flat by gusts of wind, and while I was glad I was sleeping in the Jeep, it was tense watching that big top, for if it blew apart, who knows what destruction it would cause for the tents all around me.
Finally, it was all over, and I heard raised voices, some dude was complaining loudly and swearing about all his gear being soaked. I was thinking about telling him to give it a rest when he yelled 'nobody told me I was in the f%&$#ng amphibious unit!' I laughed out loud in my car and greatly lifted my opinion of him, and found out the next day it was actually Travis! Yeah, the next day I woke up, and people were laying all of their gear out in the sun, some tents had collapsed, and news was getting around that there had actually been a tornado a few miles away approaching Wyandotte, but it'd dissipated before it hit any inhabited areas. It was the second time in the 10yr history of Okla D-Day that a tornado was reported in the vicinity during the event. One family came back and opened their tent to find ankle deep water filling the downhill half of their floor.
So friday was basically about cleanup, gearing up for the next day's game, and the parade. I bought my case of paintballs, $65 for 2000 rounds, carried as 4 tickets that you swapped for 500 round bags. I also picked up a belt that held 5 pods, and bought 5 pods, all for $14! I also had to buy a barrel condom for safety (incase my gun accidentally went off). There were amazing guns for sale, ranging from $25 to $1300+, and a ridiculous range of accessories, the paintball market is huge in the USA. After lunch there was some entertainment, rumour got around the camp like wildfire that there was a dance-off going on. Sure enough a huge crowd was gathered around 2 pairs of girls and 2 pairs of guys, dancing for some prize. Two teenage girls in hot pants were trying to out-do two 21yr old girls decked out in camo and khaki, while two guys were drawing laughs from the crowd with silly antics and the other two guys basically sucked. The crowd was 99% male so you can imagine the calls and comments being made. The organiser had a good sense of humour, it was hot and the dance-off had been going a while, so he called for some water to hydrate the dancers, reminding everyone again of the importance of hydration which had been drilled into us all in the intro video. A big drum of water was carried out, but they poured it all over the girls instead of letting them drink it. One of the younger girls cried out 'I have white pants on!' The announcer had to cut in above the cheers of the audience, 'hydration is important, everyone please be reminded, this is a family event...' and they kept up pouring water. Patrick's camera batteries ran out in the middle of filming and he actually ran back to the car and got spares! The camo girls won as obvious audience favourites, coz they never stopped dancing.
The parade was very impressive, if you can imagine thousands of people arrayed in full battle gear, some in real military uniforms, carrying flags and banners, standing on trucks and tanks, chanting catch-crys and marching. I assembled with the rest of Charlie Company under Captain Sulley, 1st Infantry Division Charlie Company Commander. Also with us was Master Sergeant Spike, 1st Infantry Division Beach Commander, who led most of our shouts that went along the lines of 'Who are we!?' 'First I.D.!' We also marched near General Sulley Sr, Allies Omaha Beach General. The speeches were good, the owner & founder, Dewayne Convirs, talked about the history and heritage of the event, telling of why they hold it, to acknowledge the sacrifice of those in the name of freedom, and of course the patriotism, paying tribute to the American flag and the cross atop the flag flying high in the middle of the grounds.
So after turning in early, we woke up not long after dawn the next morning for 'the big game.'
It was quiet and serious when I got up, people were progressively getting up and going about getting ready. I had brekky, strapped my feet with duck tape to avoid blisters, and geared up. My kit involved: camo pants, my D-Day shirt (haha lucky I proof read my posts, I just noticed a missing 'r'), camo jacket, socks & boots, 2 water bottles in leg cargo pockets, car keys & paintball tickets in breast pocket, camera and hanky in left leg pocket, my ammo belt with 5 pods of over 500 paintballs, my hat on backwards and mask on forwards and my marker. I have no idea how much that all weighed but it was a fair bit. But as for others; I saw a kid with 4 paint grenades and 2 smoke grenades hanging off the front of his utility jacket, he was as wide with gear as he was tall. Sgt Spike was lugging around a yellow smoke canister the size of a fire extinguisher, weighing several kg, strapped over his shoulder. It contained enough smoke to blot out a huge area for 15-20 mins, probably as effective as a half dozen smoke grenades. In the Allied assembly area we witnessed combat divisions loading onto troop carriers and buses bound for Utah beach, while General Sulley gave us our pep talk.. "By lunchtime at noon, I want to be eating my sandwich on the top of Omaha beach!"
Omaha beach was to be my theatre of battle, along with the 1st I.D., and we 9 engineers of the 238th Mechanical, of Charlie Company, walked out to our staging area about 1km away. I had to laugh at one kid, I photographed him walking down surrounded by adults twice his size, he was armed to the teeth, carrying a beach ball! No doubt a sly-humoured Dad was nearby. Initially my crew and I were slotted to enter the fight on the second wave from the land-based drop 'boats', but at the last minute Capt Sulley called on the radio and needed our unit over at the water-based boat. While we were relocating, the battle started, and the forest filled with shouting and crackling gunfire. We were about the 3rd or 4th wave of reinforcements to go over the water boat, which was a wooden ferry designed just like the amphibious troop carriers seen in Saving Private Ryan, with a front ramp that dropped onto the shore. We were informed that we were invulnerable until we cleared the first trench line, then we'd enter play, and getting shot would result in up to half an hour at the dead zone. We boarded and our boat was half full, everyone huddled on knees against the sides of the boat, as we slowly ferried across the 30m pond to Omaha beach. I was filming the entire time, we approached through smoke, as we were about to land a spray of paint was coming off the front of the boat, then the ramp dropped and we ran like crazy under heavy fire to the first bunker. I jumped to the ground against a small wall barely 2 feet high protecting my camera, I got shot at least 3 times, and I got shot on my pods, my marker and my legs while I laid in that spot. I then found out that my gun wasn't shooting! Turned out it had leaked during the night and was out of gas. I had to leave the battle, extremely disappointed, and hurry off to diagnose the problem, finding the gun needed some repairs. Fortunately I ran into Patrick who gave me his car keys and I went and got Travis' Tippmann which I used on Thurs night. Upon my return, the Allies had advanced at record pace, and we were already half way up the 100ft high hill.
I'd never witnessed anything like it in my life. It was full trench warfare, you plucked up the courage to get up and run from one trench to another, every move drew enemy fire, I could see the paintballs coming at me. Once I jumped into a trench that was shin-deep with water without realising, I was so focused on getting to cover, and another time I crawled prone for 8m through mud to get a clear shooting position at the corner of a trench. You don't care. You're in the game. The biggest paintball game in the world, adrenaline pumping, sweating from every pore you've got, mud and minor injuries from jumping and crawling didn't matter, all you wanted to do was shoot the enemy. Advance, re-group, and charge. Charging was the best rush, although it resulted in me getting hit a couple times. Towards the top of the hill, the front lines widened out and became two fronts, one to left (Coleville) and the other to the right (St. Laurent). Allied forces were spread out for probably 200m, but I was in the push for Coleville.
It was hard to imagine the scale of the battle, everything I was seeing was only a fraction of what was going on, while other Allied forces fought for Utah beach to the north and Sword beach to the south, over a km away. Some members of the Allied command structure would walk around behind our front lines assessing the battle, and radio in reports to Allied command back at the campgrounds, where I found out later that there were military strategists plotting the fight on maps and directing resources. The field commanders would then gather ex-dead men who had served their timeout, give them new objectives, and re-insert them to reinforce gaps in the front line. Everywhere they went barking orders, motivating the troops, spurring them to advance or defend, and they were remarkably effective. I went through my first 500 paintballs and died and went to cash in a ticket and gas up my Marker bottle with CO2. I passed General Sulley on the way back, and heard updates about the battle and how we were setting records, then he headed off, fully geared and carrying a radio pack; he'd had enough of strategy and wanted to see some action. It was inspiring!
I ran into a few more from my outfit, and we exchanged stories. In fact, all conversations I overheard were related to the battle, about heroics, about strategy, about equipment. I discovered I'd lost a pod and couldn't carry my full payload of 500, but I brought the bag of up the hill anyway. After getting to the main Omaha hill bunker, finding the Germans were pushing us backwards (coz I wasn't there, tsk tsk), I ran into Capt Sulley. He was known to a lot of soldiers and everyone supported him and followed his orders wherever he went, he was a very effective leader. Patrick later joked to me how Sulley had just finished high school, and he was gonna find him after the game and congratulate him on graduating. I offered my spare paintballs in the bag to him and he gladly accepted. After reloading, we all came under fire from a group of advancing Germans that entered parallel trenches to the right. Eventually, we pushed them back, the Allies won the hill, and then we pushed across the open to the town of Coleville. A German tank came upon us spraying what looked like orange coloured water at our troops but amidst everyone's screams of 'Tank, Tank! Take cover!' an anti-tank crew came to our rescue & shot it with the special anti-tank paint before it did much damage. This part of the battle held another of my highlights of the day. I ran forwards on the edge of our line to where there was only 2 Allied guys putting up a hell of a fight, I guessed we were outnumbered 4 to 1. I crawled to their right and into a concrete tube, which then had another concrete tube on the end of it at a slight angle. This gave me 2 gaps in the sides to shoot out of from almost complete protection, and the end of the tube to shoot in any direction. Germans were running across a clearing on the edge of my range, but fortunately none looked into the tube (they were busy getting to cover). I was able to alternate between the cracks and the tube end, scampering back and forward in the tube on my knees, I drew fire numerous times without dying, and managed to take out 3 guys who'd shot at me, and 4 others who didn't know I was there until it was too late.
Another highlight of the day was mid-afternoon, when Allies had control of Coleville and were pushing north through forest next to St. Laurent towards the Airfield. After a big standoff across a gully in this forest, we finally got the upper hand and shot the Germans out of their foothold on the opposite edge of the forest. From there they went into chaos and retreated into the Airfield, and I was at the front of the charge. Allied forces threw at least a half-dozen smoke grenades into the clearing, and I advanced from the forest across the clearing under the cover of smoke, walking and firing toward scrambling German forces. When I drew fire, I quickly moved back behind the smoke screen, sidestepped and crouched, somehow I was lucky enough not to get shot. I'd kick the grenades further forward (they were too hot to touch) and I was at the front of the biggest advance of the day, we took 100m of ground from the forest out through the Airfield in a matter of 5-10mins, and I got some good footage.
The rest of the day was fun but otherwise not spectacular. I followed the advance all the way up to Utah beach, which we finally took in the last minutes of the game in a small skirmish. I shot my gun until it ran out of gas and wouldn't fire any more. Later I was to find out that the Allies had won a major victory, with 2400 points over the German's 1400 points, points being awarded for achieving objectives within set time limits. I'd had plenty of water, but was seriously hot in the afternoon sun and 80-something degree heat (I'm guessing 29C). I was soaked in sweat but couldn't take my mask off even after the game, while still out on the field of play. I slowly walked back up the hill toward the Airfield dead zone, several hundred metres away, and by the end I wasn't walking straight. I spent about 5 minutes fumbling the buttons of my shirt jacket while walking before I got it off. I walked through the meshed entrance, pulled my mask off for the first time in a couple hours, found a flagpole and sagged against it. I was so stuffed I couldn't bend over to sit down, I slid down the pole till I fell on my backside. I reckon I was close to collapse. I pulled my camera out and got someone to photograph me, more for my own amusement later, as I'd never felt so exhausted and hot in my life. I'd seen the event take its toll in heat stressed players throughout the day. Occasionally shouts would go out calling for ceasefire, and eventually within half a minute everyone would stop shooting while someone was evacuated either for dehydration, heat stress or injury (rolled ankles etc). I was re-inserting once when an ATV drove towards me, the masked driver with one hand on the handlebar, the other behind holding a chubby fellow upright from falling off, as his head lolled about in a state of near unconsciousness. I sat for 15mins recovering, drinking the last of my water, trying to cool off. Just about everyone had headed back by that time, so I got up & walked off again. A guy drove up with a troop carrier and called out if I wanted a lift, I declined, 'no thanks mate, I walked all the way down here, I'm gonna walk all the way back'. Probably the heat stress made me stupid but for some reason I was determined to walk back under my own steam. It was a nice walk though, got to see all behind the German lines, and where all the tanks drove about etc. Managed not to get lost, and when I got back to camp, I sat down for 20 mins with a cracking headache, took two paracetamol, moved my Jeep out of the afternoon sun into the shade, stripped to shorts and passed out in the back for an hour. I felt better when I got up, Travis & I jumped in Patrick's car and we drove off 20mins to grab dinner, then headed to a motel they knew of with a pool, and I swam in a pool for the first time since leaving home. Of course, at the motel we ran into people from the event (all motels were booked out for miles around), and exchanged stories with a few dudes from the French Resistance (a division of the Allies). We then hit Wal Mart, and Patrick and Travis were dumbfounded that I had never heard of Smores, America's most famous campfire snack, and so they grabbed marshmallows, hersheys chocolate, and crackers and some YooHoo chocolate drinks (a weird drink, like a chocolate milkshake, but there is no milk!). When we got back to camp, we joined our local 1st ID campers around the fire, I got out the laptop and loaded the day's footage and everyone crowded around...
The next morning I got up, packed, got everyone's contact details, said goodbye and headed off, having made good friends with Patrick and Travis, who have decided they are coming to Australia and out to Skirmish at Mudgeeraba and the three of us will take on whoever's there and show those bogans how to play real paintball.
I headed off, but not straight home; I had to detour briefly for a small town which was only minutes away. It was a strange hint of fate that D-Day was so close to this place, which I'd learned about shortly after coming to Oklahoma, but had no idea whether i'd be bothered making the considerable trek out to this corner of the state. My friends & family reading this would know that I come from a small cosy beachside suburb on the Gold Coast named Miami, nestled between Nobbys and North Burleigh. Well, Oklahoma also has a small country town that goes by the name Miami! But these Okies, they don't pronounce it Miami, it's Mi-am-uhh, as I was corrected. So I cruised through town & took a bunch of photos for folks back home, and wondered whether a bona-fide resident, not just a resident but a kid raised in Miami QLD Australia had ever been to Miami Oklahoma. I stood outside the Coleman theatre, Miami's claim to fame, wherein is housed the original Wurlitzer Pipe Organ, which by original I assume they mean the first. It was cool, the street intersections had a single 4-direction hanging traffic light, and I passed a community noticeboard for Miami High School. The best thing in the whole town was a budget self-advertsing sign painted on the wall of a business facing a gas station, which simply read 'Stuff N Things'. I saw that, and approvingly thought 'these Okie Miami locals are alright', before jumping back in the Jeep, onto the Interstate and back to Norman.
And that was my adventure to Oklahoma's North East and the world's largest paintball event, I guess I'm a veteran of sorts, and am I ever stoked that I discovered it by chance. Full credit to Dewayne Convirs and his hard working crew and supporting sponsors who put the show on every year in an awesome display of planning and organisation. And more importantly, an enormous thank you to Patrick, Travis, Nate and the other fellas who lended me equipment and time, without you all I wouldn't have been able to do it.
My photos and videos of Oklahoma D-Day 2007 have been posted here :
http://www.youtube.com/profile?user=dineroseguro
