My first and last foray into paintball fighting revealed an assembly of cammie clad and green faced Rambos in more patterns than a stained glass window at Notre Dame. I wasn't about to get my Flektarn wrecked and wore this grey-green work shirt and pants and sort of rubbed dirt over my face. My 'group commander' held these tactical meetings between each session. I was usually the last to join, finding some relatively rare native plant as yet unstomped or indian artifact unseen on the ground. The one way conversation for 6 such briefings went " where is Kav, he's always the last to--- dammit! Chris! stop sneaking up behind me like that."