From left to right, Dani Morera di Núbila, Maya Torres Colom, Emily Shih, William VanDyke (photo courtesy of Eloise Harcourt).

Wednesday, April 15. 11:30 a.m. The signs of battle were nowhere to be found. On the East End, a few scattered groups of students in red and blue wandered in search of their fearless leaders. I was among them, waiting for the fight to commence. The fight, of course, being a massive game of Capture the Flag.

A few minutes later, they emerged: a dozen students in red, white, and blue berets marched out from behind the Kemper Art Museum, dragging with them three wooden structures. The first structure was a small tower, more than eight feet tall and donning a flag with both teams’ colors. The other two structures held the flags, velcroed to their poles and waving in the breeze.

As the generals (the students with baggy pants and berets) marched, they carried many sashes of red and blue. Some students, like myself, had chosen teams for ourselves. We received the invitations weeks before — tiny envelopes labeled “TOP SECRET” (a QR code for a Partiful link).

Other students were called upon by fate. Whether they were lounging outside Hillman or  commuting to classes, the generals indiscriminately tossed sashes left and right, recruiting their troops mere minutes before battle. These new recruits did not know the history of Capture the Flag, but the call to fight was irresistible: Whatever this was, it seemed way more fun than going to class.

By the time we passed Olin Library, the procession had grown from a dozen to nearly 50 students. As we stepped onto Mudd Field, the generals in white ascended the wooden towers and delivered what they called the “famous speech”. I do not know how a speech can be famous before it’s delivered, but the dramatic aura was fit for the occasion.

“You all are not here merely to capture a flag. You are here to capture a moment in time!” shouted senior Clarissa Worthington, a non-partisan leader of the game. The crowd roared. Every word from our leaders ignited a fierce passion for our randomly chosen colors.

But in the midst of this great address, a threat descended upon the field: “Catherine from Student Affairs.” We soldiers feared that our day of combat ended before it had begun, but the crisis was quickly averted.

The games were permissible, by Catherine’s decree, but the leaders were not allowed to place the unsanctioned tower on Mudd Field.

Clarissa Worthington (left) and Adam Kirsch (right)(photo courtesy of Eloise Harcourt).

Soon after, the teams separated to opposite sides of the field. The red team generals relayed the rules of the game to us, of which there were few. The real goal was to claim eternal glory for the red team. (And have fun!)

When the game began, both teams charged to the dividing line in the center of the field, only to halt just short of the line. Who would dare to cross the line first? Running across in the opening minutes of the game meant certain death (being sent to the other team’s jail). For a few minutes, not one soldier had the bravery. 

I could not see who took the first step, but from then it was a cascade of running soldiers, scrambling only a short distance before falling to the other team’s defenses (getting tagged). While most of our team crowded the front line, a few stayed back to defend our flag. Most of us just stood there, waiting for something to happen.

Everyone who crossed the dividing line thought they would be the one to bring glory to the team. Each of us saw the image of ourselves running boldly into enemy territory and returning, game-winning flag in hand. For all but one, that image would be shattered.

For one young man, however, the story was different. It happened too fast for me to witness. In the time it took me to jog back from the blue team’s jail, the battle had been won. A roar erupted from our entire team. Most of us had just stood there for 15 minutes, but red team chanted and waved the enemy’s flag as though we had fought hard for 15 years.

In the wake of defeat, blue team held their heads high. They huddled together, applauded their leaders, and carried on with the day having taken a much-needed break from their schoolwork. Senior Ceci Gutierrez, one of the blue team generals, said to her team “I’m so happy we’re here, united, to do what’s important in life.”

Although I lacked the prestigious “Press Pass” worn by the game’s pre-arranged journalists (with whom plenty of trash-talk was had), I still had the opportunity to talk with some of the students who helped make this game happen.

Elliott Andrew, a senior BFA in the Sam Fox School of Design and Visual Arts, was the mastermind of this grand distraction. As a part of his senior thesis work, he arranged the game to give WashU students a chance to get away from their busy schedules.

“I tried to organize a space within campus to create a time for play and coming together. It’s really nice to take a step back from our work and routines, and just get together,”  Andrew said.

Andrew was also excited to talk about how Capture the Flag might live on past his time at WashU.

“I hope that this will be a tradition on campus from now on. Maybe it becomes a myth or a rumor, but it may be carried on in the future. Thank you to everyone that came out,” Andrew said.

I don’t know if anyone will make Capture the Flag a tradition at WashU. There may never again be “TOP SECRET” envelopes or campus-wide marches for colorful glory at our institution. But if there are, we must all remember: RED TEAM RULES.