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The Last War Of Summer - Part 1 A week passed after my last adventure (see More Tales from the Woods) and I and my close friends received word that our next game (the big one we had all been waiting for) would take place during the afternoon and evening of the following Saturday. We were expecting a big turnout since it would be our last opportunity for a battle on the scale anticipated and we knew many of our pals were planning to camp overnight. James, Robert, David and I decided we would do the same since it would free us from the possibility of a "parental curfew". The remaining days to the end of the week seemed to be interminable. At last the day arrived and my three buddies called for me early so that we could lay our plans and see what else might be cooking in the woods. The other three were still enjoying the joke of my being made to walk home with my hands tied behind me by my older brother Chris, after our last get together. I told them it was wearing a little thin and that they had better beware since I was still looking for revenge for their part in Chris's scheme. In this way we arrived in the woods in high spirits some time before midday and immediately heard the sound of hammering coming from behind the dense undergrowth. We followed the sound to the clearing in front of Mike's patrol hut where he, Matthew, Peter and several others were gathered, all dressed as we were in blue cotton gym shorts and tee shirts of various colours. They were all camping overnight and some tents were pitched close by. Peter was hammering long steel tent pegs into the hard ground with a mallet. Curious, we asked what was going on. Peter finished his hammering and looking up with a gleam in his eye said, "It's a good thing you are here early. Now we can check and make sure we've got everything right!" For some inexplicable reason I didn't grasp what he meant but suddenly I sensed my buddies had drawn away from me slightly and as Mike cried, "Get him!" I was pounced on by six boys and wrestled to the ground. Despite struggling furiously and protesting loudly at the infamy of their unprovoked attack I was soon lying on my back with a boy sitting astride my stomach pinning my shoulders to the ground while other hands held my kicking ankles. Looking up I saw Mike stooping over me holding several lengths of rope and in no time at all my wrists and ankles were being tightly lashed to the prepared stakes. The boys holding me down stood up and I lay, hot and sweaty and gasping for breath after my exertions. With my limbs stretched tightly to the pegs I lay with my back arched, my whole body as taught as a bowstring. There was no doubt - they had definitely got the stakes in the right places! I continued to protest loudly and Mike laughed, "Just testing it out and you were the obvious candidate. We will let you up in a minute. By the way, what time is Chris arriving - we thought he would be with you." Despite my situation I lay still and stared open mouthed at Mike; I had no idea my big brother was joining us. Mike laughed again as he realized his announcement was a revelation to me. It was obvious that if we could manipulate the teams then my brother could be made to pay for humiliating me! It had been agreed in advance that our "game" would be a straight forward and wide ranging version of Capture the Flag, with two opposing teams of approximately equal strength and broad limits to the territory as we were expecting at least 15 players and maybe more (it seemed that almost the whole troop had decided to participate including some who were not usually party to our acts of barbarity). Two bases would be established at opposite ends of the woods and those of us who were camping for the weekend had pitched our tents accordingly. A flag would be flown at each of these bases and the game would end when the opposing side took one of these. This was, however, only really symbolic since this could only happen when all the opposing side had been captured and duly accounted for. For the benefit of those who would have to return home a time limit was set and in the event of this limit being reached the game would be decided by the number of prisoners held. It was of course understood by us all that any one being captured would be bound and might be "tortured" for information. We were "armed" with our trusty water pistols and the rule of surrendering when hit applied. Otherwise, it was to be pretty well open warfare with anything goes short of causing serious pain or physical harm. Tents etc. duly pitched we gathered at lunchtime at Mike's base. Doting parents had provided enough cold food to provide a substantial lunch for the eighteen boys who were now present, presumably well pleased to have their offspring "off their hands" for the best part of the weekend.
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