I have so many great Battlefield II moments. Namely on the epic Point of Existence II mod - which boasted more squad-orientated combat and delivered successfully. From running through lush forests with my mates - screaming into comms. and dodging bullets from a nearby ambush, to defending sole houses from tank attacks by firing down on them from three stories up; I have so many great memories.
However, my most epic moment has to be playing the vanilla game. The map? Wake Island 2007. I was, for once, playing as the Chinese forces and we were losing out, big time, to the invading Marines. They had just captured our airbase and were moving to annihilate our last checkpoint on the beach. I was part of a leading group who weren't whining in team chat how much we'd lost. In a staggered formation, my squad was making their way back up to launch a counter attack on the recently-lost runway. Our leader was driving a tank up the dirt path, and the rest of us provided cover from within the trees.
I'd always carried the motto (as posted on another thread): "I mean, you might have 'leet sniping skills' and the bunny hopping abilities of a cat with a jetpack; but I have a fucking rocket." I always played as either assault or anti-tank on BF2, and definitely the latter when attacking heavily-defended positions. As was the case in this scenario, as we stormed onwards, D-Day style, towards the onslaught of the enemy.
We were making good progress; We had a terrific commander who provided us with supplies and covering artillery fire on request and, although we did take a few causalities en route, we had killed more of them than they had of us. Then, my moment of glory came:
The sound of a helicopter filled the air. The bastards had now taken to using what should have been our transportation against us. On top of that - it was a gunship, raining fire down from the skies with all the piloting skills of a badly trained monkey. Still, it was enough to be a direct threat to our attack, and blow us back to a good ten minutes ago.
Now, I'd won a few medals for anti-aircraft achievements in the past. But that had been using specifically-designed vehicles with advanced targeting systems on wider maps. We had none of that right then. But if none of our lot did anything; our tank would be gone and all chances of winning would be taken with it.
I knew what I had to do.
As the n00bcopter made another low pass over the trees above us, I aimed wildly upwards, and took a deep breath. As soon as the great, black belly of the flying prey came into view, I fired.
My rocket made contact perfectly on the tail section.
The beast went down like Flight 815.
Cheers echoed throughout communications. A distinct "GOOD 'UN MEL!" filled my ears, a congratulations from our tank-driving teammates.
Pity we still lost the round.
