Interrupting our regularly scheduled programming to bring you some news. My publisher, A15 Publishing, recently announced they are closing their doors. This news came on the heels of the unfortunate passing of the founder and editor in chief, Pete. Pete fought a long battle with cancer, but sadly succumbed earlier this year. I was fortunate to talk with Pete a few times over the course of working with A15 Publishing, and I will forever be grateful that he gave me a shot on my first two novels.
At this time, I am still waiting on word on what A15’s closure means for me. I was informed that the rights to both books are going to revert back to my full control, so that is nice. There are, however, a lot of questions about rights, final payments, and transitioning Amazon control.
The good news for you, my rabid fans, is that I now have the ability to lower the prices of both novels in my shop! If you are interested in buying any of my books, it would be much more helpful for me if you purchase them through the shop, rather than Amazon while the nitty gritty details of the turnover get ironed out. To add to this silver lining, I lowered the price of all the Children’s books as well, and there is still the coupon code “holidaycheer” you can use to save even more money! Hop into that shop and get your Christmas shopping done early!
Thanks for reading, here’s a little “War” story as a treat.
The Det – Paintball
At the end of my second year as an Air Force Reserve Officer Training Corps (AFROTC) cadre at the University of Hawai’i, I had the opportunity to dust off my paintball skills. The cadets planned a paintball outing to practice their basic “combat” “skills.” Throughout the course of the year, the cadets had conducted all sorts of military training such as small unit tactics, self aid & buddy care, and mission planning. Setting up scenarios and setting the cadets loose in a paintball course was a way to tie everything together.
I had missed the paintball event the year prior, as we held it at the end of the fall semester. Instead of going to play paintball, I had to go watch my brother get married. You win some, you lose some.
The cadet training team took a lot of time and put in a lot of effort into developing a series of scenarios for the cadets to tackle in the paintball field. On the day of our paintball operation, the upperclassmen assumed the role of the Opposing Force (OpFor), while the underclassmen were divided into squads as the Good Guys. I decided to join the (paintball) war on the OpFor side.
Over the two years prior to that Friday morning, I taught AS100, the freshmen level AFROTC course. In addition, I had served as the Military Advisor for the freshmen cadets for the same two years. That meant the squads of Good Guys were filled completely with my current and former students. I love my cadets, and I wish them all the success in life, but they frequently were a huge pain in my ass. So I leapt at the chance to shoot them (with paintballs).
Our contingent of cadets and cadre arrived at the paintball field bright and early to get our paintball guns, ammunition, and safety equipment. We received the safety briefing from the paintball field’s referees, then got ready to step off for our first scenario.
I got my gear ready and prepared to enter the safety mesh-lined paintball field with the rest of the OPFOR. The older cadets had all played paintball before and participated in both Det 175’s training scenarios and the larger ones held at Field Training at Maxwell AFB in Alabama during the Summer after their sophomore year. Many of the Good Guys looked a little nervous. Most of them had not played paintball before, and you could tell they weren’t entirely comfortable with the paint blaster they held in their hands.
As we walked past the squads of Good Guys, one of my fellow OPFOR couldn’t help needling the younger cadets one more time. “Major Jacobson,” Cadet Willis loudly called out with a signature smirk, “weren’t you captain of the Academy’s paintball team?” I turned to respond, catching the now even more worried looks from the Good Guy squads.
“Oh yeah,” I replied nonchalantly, “one of ’em, anyway.”
This revelation did two things for me. One, it gave me the satisfaction of seeing the looks on some of the Good Guys’ faces turn from mild nervousness to borderline terror. Two, it made me a target, especially among the few Good Guys who had paintball experience.
We OPFOR entered the field and took our positions, and the scenarios began. We ran several scenarios, most of which had very little to do with actually shooting each other with paintballs. As the OPFOR was made up of the older cadets, they were also evaluating how the Good Guys moved and communicated as a team, how they reacted to changes in scenario, and if they remembered some of the basic military skills the Good Guys had been taught over the course of the year. It is hard to evaluate the Good Guys when you are lighting them up with paintballs.
Part of the purpose of this training was to inject a bit of chaos and see how the Good Guys reacted. Sometimes, the OPFOR would walk around with their paintball guns, acting aggressive but not firing on the Good Guys while they went about their tasks. Others would hide their paintball guns and just shout rude things to the Good Guys. Some even acted like helpful locals, “guiding” the Good Guys to their objective. When you expect to be shot at, sometimes the “chaos” is the lack of violence.
Of course, we had the paintball guns, so there were a quite a few “firefights.” One of my favorites occurred when the OPFOR had adopted a non-aggressive posture, simply milling about and watching the Good Guys move about the field. One of the Good Guys got startled by an OPFOR who was minding their own business, and fired a burst of paintballs in the general direction of the OPFOR. Instead of hitting the OPFOR, they hit one of the other Good Guys, which prompted the rest of the Good Guys to start firing at anything they saw.
I have to say, once the paintballs started flying, it was just like riding a bike. Running around, directing the OPFOR into positions of advantage, shooting, moving, and communicating all came rushing back to me as if I was still a cadet playing matches in Colorado. Of course, my knees begged to differ, especially after tripping over a hidden log and slamming my left knee into the ground.
Over the course of our scenarios, I made several low-percentage shots. I hit one cadet from clear across the field while they stood out in the open, painting their mask a soapy yellow. Another thought they were well hidden behind a dilapidated truck, but I proved them wrong by shooting them through the gap between the cab and bed. One Good Guy had mentioned that she really didn’t want to get shot in the thigh, so that is where I shot her when she failed to maintain situational awareness.
Of course, the Good Guys got their payback as well. One of them shot me six times at close range, putting a line of welts across my chest from hip to shoulder. Another kept seeking me out to try to take me out as many times as possible. One Good Guy got a heck of kick out my stream of not-so-creative profanity when he shot me in the inner thigh, damn near my crown jewels.
Our paintball outing was one of my favorite training events, and it made me wish I hadn’t sold all my paintball gear at the end of my USAFA career. Pulling out all that professional looking gear at the field would have elicited even more terrified looks from the Good Guys, and I might have been even more deadly out there. I would have certainly looked cool in my USAFA Paintball jersey, and looking cool is the most important thing.
