Also what “rules” did you have?(like they were ever followed). We have the standard rules you know you can’t pump a Crossman more than 4 times and only 3 pumps for a Sheraton and Benjamin. Of course, no one followed that rule especially after they got shot a few times. Also no head shots and you can’t shoot surrendering players. The biggest rule was that NOBODY I mean NOBODY can tell their parents about the war.
Anyway my worst injury was from a co2 pistol. I was poking my head up out of a ditch(my foxhole) and this idiot shot me in the forhead. And on the way home walking with my friend I started feeling the hole in my head and it turned out that the BB was stuck in there. I made up a story to tell my mom about shooting a tree and it bounced off hitting me in the forehead. She didn’t byy it(the story) but I still didn’t squeal because if you told there was a firing squad you had to face.
Well, she pulled it out with tweezers(OUCH) and I ask for some whiskey like they got in westerns when they got shot and were having a bullet removed but she wouldn’t give me any.
Anyway what are your BB gun war stories and can you still see out of BOTH eyes?
In all actuality, the guy who lived across the hall from me freshman year had his eye shot out when he was 11. It was pretty close range, and an accident, but nonetheless, what a bunch of idiots!
The only BB gun war i was ever in (mainly because i was the only kid i knew with a BB gun and i only had one…) was when i was like 8. I let my older brothers friend talk me into having a war with him, he got the bb gun and since there was only one bb gun i got…a sling shot. He went and hid behind the wood pile and i ‘hid’ on the trampoline (rofl im starting to just now realize what a dumbass i was). The very first shot nailed me in the thumb and resulted in a nasty blood blister, we quit after that. I cant remember what i told my parents but i know i didnt tell them that i got shot with my bb gun.
Are you kidding me? You don’t get my point? You come here, apparently to ‘fight ignorance’, and yet you make no effort to do so.
In my post, I mention the GUY across the hall at college. While there are co-ed dorms in existence, not ALL of them are. So obviously, there is no way that I “must be a girl”.
Bill, I understand the thrill of the battle. But at no point have I been so utterly thoughtless and stupid enough to fire a weapon at my friends.
Rules: 1)No, and I mean NO, ten-pumps.
2) You have to wear goggles.
3) No “extra” padding, though a cup or a sock in the crotch is okay. Sweatshirts and extra jackets are right out, though.
And…that’s about it.
My worst actual injusry is the BB I still have in my leg, right above the knee. It went right through my jeans. it’s kinda cool, I can hang small, but powerful, magnets off it. I’ve had it probably 8-9 years now and have though on many a drunkewn night of “surgicly” removing it. It showed up on an e-ray I had once and I asked the doctor about it. He said if it doesn’t bother me, I shouldn’t worry about it.
Of course, I got shot in the tenders once. I was charging a concrete pylon and my friend, who was on the other team, poked his weapon around and fired. Dropped me like a rock. He came running up, screaming “Do you surrender?! Do you surrender?!” I just rolled over saying "Man, i’m not going anywhere!!
The worst incident I was witness to happened to a rookie, Chris Smith. Got shot in the mouth. It actually went through his cheek and we had to dut it oujt of the inside of his mouth. We gave him a few belts of JD, actually (funny you should mention that Bill) then used the sharpest knife we had on hand, a K-Bar. My buddy (of nut-shotting fame) did the cutting while I sqeezed it out like a pimple. The wound itself just looked like a popped pimple on the outside, while the inside healed up almost immediately.
Now paintball takes the place of that wonderful HS weekend activity, and I only get around to that about once a year.
Fair enough, I don’t want it to get ugly either, but I was thinking of a co-ed dorm so I wasn’t for sure from your user name if you were a guy or a girl.
And remember this(bb gun wars) is something we did in our preteens ( ok maybe little older )when you were suppose to do stupid stuff. If you never tried it conner, that’s ok but if you did you had might have found out it was fun(a little dangerous but at that age we didn’t care).
Heck, I remember one time we poured gasoline at the bottom of my driveway than we lit it and skateboarded through the wall of fire. We had a towel that we used when we reached the other side of the street to put out or rubber wheels before they burnt up. You know crazy stuff that you do when you were a kid.
If when I think about it, the paintball whelps I have had hurt just as bad as some of the bb gun shots I took(except for the one the forhead) and gave.
But the guy who worked at the desk next to me at my last job actually took a BB in the eye as a kid. You could tell something was wrong with it. He can still see out of it (he’s in his 50s now), but has had a sort of double vision since.
So, yeah, wear goggles. And not to sound like an old fuddy-duddy, but there was a report on (I think) 60 Minutes about a kid who was shot in the head with a BB gun, and it went through his skull and into his brain, causing permanent damage.
Ours were a tad bit different, we always had them indoors in my friends house(of course his parents were gone when we went to battle) urban warfare style.
We had 2 rifles and 2 of those spring action pistols(marksman or something) our ammo was not BB’s, we used those lite bright pegs and slid em down the barrel. Two pumps was the rule on the rifles and you could only use those at long range, pistols(since they were pretty wimpy) could be used at point blank along with hand to hand combat, no pistol whipping though. Clothing was shorts and t-shirts, no heavy clothing, if you got shot or shot someone else it had to be known. Thrill of the kill, I guess.
Of course the rules did not last long through the battle and eventually we would be pumping the rifles well past 2 pumps which eventually led to my worst injury, a lite brite peg imbedded itself halfway right below my knee shot from point blank. I can remember going home with those lite brite peg shaped welts all over my arms and legs. Those were fun times.
