More than 100 helium balloons adorned the CAA clubhouse on Saturday, January 19th for the annual Kick-off dinner.  On Sunday, as the heat came on in late afternoon, they began to move about, setting off 14 alarms on the Honeywell security system.  Phil Spencer contacted a nearby member to go pop them.  Here is the report back to Phil which he read at the 1/24 Thursday meeting...

 

Battle report 1730 hours 20 January 2002.

 

To: General Spencer,

 

Sir, I arrived at the fortress promptly, following your battle cry.  As I slipped into the midst of the enemy by rear tunnel, I found myself surrounded by Ostigoths, Visigoths, Heligoths just plan Goths and other invading demons from the north lurking all around the area at all altitudes.  Some were wimpy, sick and hung over from a camp party last night, but most robust and looking for a challenge.

 

Under cover of darkness I slipped in to the artillery room and found a machete that fit my trembling hand.  Shouting and slashing I emerged into the center of the conflict and attacked the low hanging fruit first.  The short ones were cut down one by one -they gasped their last and fell to the ground.  The remaining enemy now on alert, tried to escape, jumped into some Migs, heliumcopters and blimps and headed for the wild blue.  I was able to snag the tail feathers of many and sliced them through their throats with my trusty blade.  The noise was overwhelming and as I breathed the air around their escaping demise my voice became tinny and high.  I looked down to assure I had not become emasculated during the conflict. No, everything ok, continue on. 

 

The high-flyers without tails escaped the machete and I dug a foxhole, planned a retreat back to the artillery room for munitions and returned with sharp missiles.  With a trained eye, and strong launching arm the gas seeking sidewinders found their targets and one by one, spent bodies began to float down.  I came upon three large groups that were mustering forces and by grabbing their leaders I stuck each one of them through the guts and the bodies began to mass into large piles on the ground.  Corpses were everywhere.  Oh, the horror of it all, war is hell.

 

Looking around I found a number of heliumcopters high in the sky, observing all the action.  Ernie's P51 joined in the fracas, providing cover and then pumping its machine guns toward the enemy.  Soon other combat aircraft launched from their perches to assist.  But, the high-fliers were out of reach of conventional weapons so reinforcements were called and out came the big guns.  Now, with fixed bayonet to a high-tech mop handle, and with the elevation of a board room table, the remaining Goths were marched into a cave and this opposition was punctured to the sound of loud wails and falling debris.  Hand to hand combat continued until finally the war zone fell silent, all quiet on the western front.  The adrenalin subsidized as I looked around for remaining snipers.  One tried to jump from behind a corner but a Scott towel scud missile brought him into the combat area and the bayonet was thrust for the last time. 

 

Now....silence....., the moment of Victory arrived....the remains of the enemy were strewn across the battlefield, defeated, deflated and defunct.  Opposition all destroyed and no reported CAA causalities.  Whew, end of the pincer movement, what an engagement!  In thirty minutes of conflict more than a hundred carcasses lie heaped in groups of yellow, blue red and purple, tails between their legs, swollen egos burst.  Our airplanes were all safe, back hanging from the sky and we were the victors. There will be no more motion this evening, our fortress is secure.  No enemy movement will appear on the Honeywell radar.  The clean up battalion will be busy tomorrow preparing for last rites.

 

Captain Jake and the d' Inflate-tre