I had planned on making 2001, the Final Battle for Canada.  This grizzled old veteran had seen 3 tours of duty to the Canadian capital and felt, this like Afganistan, was a losing battle for the USSR.  I decided I would make this my rape and pillage attack...steal what I could from the locals and not look for glory in the war.  I handed the reigns of power to a competitent field General, Handsome Pete (IB 50), and was just going for the ride.

But something happened in the USSR compounds.  Conscriptions weren't necessary.  Volunteers came from everywhere.  They heard of the great battles for the North and wanted to be part of the invading horde.  We soon were over 28 players, and the idea of 2 armys intrigued me.  Had this ever been done.  Two touring sides from the same gene pool?  Our North Bay brothers would have to cough up a couple more guys, but yes, I think we could do it.

I stepped up like the old soldier I am, and organized a 2nd side.  Former USSR veterans would get the first nod for the "A" side, and the others, would fill in for the KGB (Kommittee on Girls and Beer).  We arranged jerseys and the tour was in motion. The head count was 31.  We had one reserve to be shared by both sides.  There was also a rumor that famed Mercenary, Mike Tompkins would be in the area and would be in attendance as well.  We two major vets from the previous attack.  Auggie, the Crown prince of Argentina and Jeff  Collins would not be there.  But  in their sted, we found 2 others to fill in.  All was looking good.  The battle was ready.....we were all set to deploy.

I was flying solo.  Most of the guys were driving so I was on my own.  There were some problems with my flight (winds or something) so i was routed through Toronto and forced to circle Buffalo for 30 minutes (gave me more time to drink).  By the time I landed, my circle of agents in Canada, Idiot Brothers Tony and BJ were there with Greg (famed from Maggotfest and the previous trips to Ottawa) and we waited for my luggage, which never arrived.  We waited for Ozzy Pawl to arrive (for his first Ottawa adventure) and Big Jim (two more idiot brothers).  Jim's flight was cancelled in DC and would be arriving the next morning.

We went directly to the bar and found the rest of the idiots hanging out partying etc.  The night became a mix of drunken stupidity and music.  The guys all headed back to BJ and Tony's places and we crashed on their floors.  After some rugby, beer and chat....oh and some food...we hit the hay.  We awoke to showers and Tony's fabulous breakfast he serves.  We all ate and were merry.

We then decided it was time to find supplies.  Tiki Torches, food, and of course beer.  We captured our camp site and started our drinking.  The rest of the boys arrived and we started really getting drunk.  A couple young women players stopped by and showed us their hooters and we all got quite feisty after that.  Several impromptu Cage wrestling matches started with many players getting egos bruised.  Kiwi John ripped off Big Jims underwear in an attempt to give him a wedgy (OW) and paybacks were a bitch for KJ.  The day drug out and we ended up realizing we hadn't been to the strip bar yet.

The Gypsey Rose, recently closed, was not an option so we drove like bats in the night...using the sonar of naked chicks to find our way to another location.  This place was horrible. The dark dingy gypsey rose was lost to this place that looked more like a club in the NYC night life.  Bright lights, spacious, BOUNCERS.  

We sat and ate some food and watched the enteratinment.  It was OKAY, but there was no lying on stage at this location.  After several lap dances, we ended going back outside to find Handsome Pete, who was barred from entering.  The bouncer saw the paint stains on his shorts and thought he puked on himself (weird) and wouldn't let him in.  The guys were all about to leave and I stopped them.  "Guys, we owe it to Pete to go in there and see naked girls.  He would want us to."  He quickly replied, "fuck that...fuck them."  I quickly shut him up and we reentered.  He went back to the van with his girlfriend, Jen Delmar (Idiot sister herself) and when we arrived back they both were looking quite flush and smiling.  Seems his show may have been more fun than ours.  Highlights might have been when I jumped on stage waiting for the girls to come back out to dance and spun on the big poll on stage.  After I took my shirt off, the door guy, looking much like Eddy Grant from Electric Avenue fame, told me to get down or he would "Get me down."   The guys seemed to become a bit moody about this and he noticed my army behind me and then asked me nicely.

We returned to the pitch and found several more teams partying.  The hot tubs were out and we were partying with everyone in the bar.  Several more of our mates arrived and our entire side was present.  I ran into a girl that I had met my first year in Ottawa that was quite cute and started to talk to her a bit.  Ozzy Pawl joined us, to "talk me up...make me look good" and in true idiot fashion (see Dumb and Dumber) ended up stealing her away.  Once the conversation went to Australia, I was lost and left for the bar.  He approached me later and asked why I had ditched him and her.  I replied, "I don't know you seemed to be doing pretty good over there with her.  I mean, you had your tongue down her throat."   He replied, "oh you saw that?"  We laughed a bit.....(I laughed sinister...wishing I had some exlax to put in his beer) and we continued to party.  I was drinking from my pitcher when a guy approached and said, "hey how are you."  Not knowing him, I quickly said "Good" and looked away.  He looked like he might be a bit of a pufta.  Then he asked for a glass of my beer.  I laughed at him.  He said, "come on Montana, share the wealth."  Well, I thought, he does seem to know me, so I gave him a 1/2 a glass.  He walked off a bit miffed at my parsimonious behavior.  I watched him leave and he walked up to the rest of my team.  Got a beer from them and then started chatting.  SHIT.  He is one of us.  He is that new guy that just joined PAC.  Cruberti's old mate.  FUCK.  So I walked up and apologized and he would never let me forget it.  I later found out his name was Chadwick, Mike Chadwick, but for  the longest time I thought his name was Chad Wick.  So I still call him Chad.  Anyways, the night stretched out longer and I found myself walking back to my tent around 4 AM.  I found the girl Ozzy was making out with walking alone.  Sorta disorientated.  I approached her and she hugged me and asked if she could sleep in my tent that night.  OH YEAH I thought.  We got back to my tent and she started to crawl into my sleeping bag.  I was wearing my kilt and figured I should change into my sweats (so I wasn't sleeping naked.  She had made it clear that she ONLY wanted to sleep.  Like the teddy bear I am, I agreed.  It was cold and another body would be comforting.  Kiwi John, my flat mate the past 2 Ottawa trips, was sleeping.  I pulled out my sweats and she said, "do you have something for me to wear?"  I gave her my sweats and realized I didn't have anything else.  She said she didn't mind my kilt/nude sleeping arrangement and she pulled her pants off and put on my sweats.  They were SO big on her tiny frame, they almost fell off when she stood.  We crawl under the covers and fell asleep.  I got several jabs, as she did, from Kiwi John for our Snoring.  Yes she was sawing logs as well.  When I woke up she was gone, but when she came back to the camp to get her jeans, the boys razzed me a little.  

"So Montana, did you hook up last night?"  The only thing I could think of  was a little known scene in the movie Bull Durham, where the Pitcher (Tim Robbins) goes home with the chick and she ties him up to the bed and reads poetry to him.  When his teammates ask him how she was  in bed, he replies, "No, we didn't fuck, she just read poetry to me."  So that is what I said.  The team didn't quite catch the obscure reference and actually thought she read poetry to me.  I heard about that the rest of the day.

After our day's matches were concluded, we sat around the fire, drinking and laughing.  Some of the guys from a Canandian team arrived and they started talking about the chicks at the tourney.  One said, that they had a girl on their women's team, that had slept with all 30 of their players on their team.  The guys asked which one she was, cause they felt obliggated to get me laid.  Turns out it was the "poetry Chick."  Their team about died when they heard the line.  I quickly explained, but no one cared....the fact that I couldn't even hook up with a slut caused shock waves of laughter across the fields.  They departed and we prepared for Kangaroo Court.  But all of a sudden Ozzy Pawl became quite ill.  Seems he ate some Peas somewhere that day and is allergic to them.  His throat swelled up and he quickly shot up with adrenaline to keep from dying.  Kiwi John volunteered Harry to drive him to the hospital and would be gone for most of the evening.  Ozzy recovered, but had a bitter, sober Harry with him  til the arrived back at camp at midnight.

Mike Tompkins, who had arrived earlier in the day and subbed in for the injured Kiwi John, brought 3 of his Russian friends.  WE sang the Soviet National Anthem with the guys and they loved it.  Prior to court, we were sitting watching some hot women players warming up for a late game.  One thing we all noticed was that the girls were all very clean.  No dirt on their red and white jerseys....nothing.  So we started mocking them.  Well after several giggled and kept warming up, the Court Defense attorney, Bob "The Whore" brought it to our attention that we shouldn't "harass them prior to their international match."  Yes it was the Women's Cananadian National team.  WE sat and mocked them as they were warming up. We all felt very small.  Didn't affect them much, the demolished the US Eagles side later that night.

Court was interesting, with Francois De La Rocha filling in for Ozzy (another Idiot brother....this could have been the largest collection of IBs ever), things got scary.  A back that had eaten a salad that day was forced to eat grass.  The guys that drank too much beer that day were forced to drink a gallon of water.  Some guys that fucked up had to drink water from an old chili can that Harry had just finished.  There was firing walking and other punishments that were not normal attacks, but would be intertwined in the future.  

The rugby was a mix of bad rugby, injuries, and hang overs.  The KGB suffered 2 losses and one draw.  The USSR was 1-1-1 and was set to play saturday morning in the quarter finals.  The KGB filled in for the USSR injured nd the team would be lucky to fill one side.  From 31 to 15 in one day.  That night the players roared around from party to party.  

About this time, a black prop approached me and asked me to baptize him.  I have been called the Reverend Montana of the Idiot Brother Church of Rugby gods.  Turns out he had been given an ultimatum by his wife, to quit rugby or get divorced.  He chose divorce and his life had been much better ever since.  He stripped naked, brought me a 6 pack of beer.  I had just got something out of my bag to throw into the crowd around our campfire.  The object was a dildo that I had bought before leaving as a gag tour thing.  I told him to kneel and that is when he saw the dildo.  He got the fear of god in his eyes and said, "what are you going to do?"  I laughed, poured beer on him and handed him the dildo and told him to go out and use it that night.

When Harry finally got back from the ER with Ozzy, he was ready to drink and ordered like 12 beers and lined them up.  He drank them all in about 10 minutes.  A girl approached Harry about this time and was hanging on him.  He was completely not interested in her and told her to leave several times. She didn't and he ended up peeing on her.  Yes, he wipped his dick out and peed on her leg.  She, of course freaked out.  The next day Super Boy was bragging about his conquest and pointed out the girl.  Harry quickly said, "you mean the girl I pissed on last night?"  He objected, but many guys confirmed it.....and the thought spread across everyone's mind that Harry's piss was on Super Boy during sex.  NICE.

The girl that had "read poetry" was back later that night and was spending much time with me.  After the Coed Nude Rugby match I was sure I was in for some late night fun, however, a pesky Scottish Back swept her away and they left together.  I found my way to my tent and went to pass out.  All the beer was gone, except some the Russians kept finding and bringing back.  

The Russians were for the most part a hit of the tourney.  One found himself in the girls shower, naked, just staring at the women showering.  They didn't really object, but thought it was weird.  The balls on those Russians.  I can't believe their empire fell.

I got up early the next day and headed to the airport courteousy of Scotty (another IB) and got on my flight back to DC.  I had a busy schedule the rest of the day (from rugby tourney to business trip), and would get off my flight at Dulles International Airport, catch a cab to my car, switch suitcases (kit bag for garment bag) and cab to Ronald Reagan National Airport to catch a flight to Salt Lake City via Phoenix (and a visit from my recently separated wife.)  The chat went okay, but only sent me spiraling further down into depression.  I would need another trip soon to get me out of this funk.  Maybe an Odyssey of some sort to find the answers.