Fuzzy Childhood Memories III

The Chesnut Wars (Late 1980's)

This wasn't some George Lucas dreamed up battle with Yoda and Jabba the Hut, this was real. We had to defend our turf from the fat kid across the street or he might come over and bust the springs off our trampoline.

The battle lines were drawn in the back yard between two chesnut trees separated by thirty yards of open field. Having him out numbered four-to-one we wasted no time with our aggression. My older cousin began launching the first wave of chesnuts, narrowly missing their target. The response was swift, but expected as we were able to avoid the flying projectiles. The battle raged for what seemed for like an hour, neither side backing down, each taking minor hits, but remaining steadfast.

With ammo running low, our portly opponent launched a desperate final campaign, peppering our positions with fists-full of chesnuts. Though risky, this maneuver proved to be decisive as a lone stealthy chesnut made a direct hit on my left eye leaving it blackened and swollen. At this point, we knew that we had been defeated, reluctantly surrendering use of the trampoline. Thus it sits today barren of springs, a lasting relic of the Chesnut Wars.