And here’s where it all starts going wrong…
Having been finding the black plastic of the Stealth Trooper less and less comfortable to wear for about a year by this point, my original plan had been to perform by traditional spotting duties on the Saturday and to wear the Biker Scout which I’d been favoring as a costume for the preceding seven or so months.
The recent acquisition of a new TX helmet, gainfully trimmed and assembled by Stuart, and the fact we were staying over an extra day in Inverness in an attempt to gatecrash the Doctor Who Tour convinced me to try being in costume all weekend however.
To be honest it probably wasn’t worth the effort. The event was quiet even for their standards on the Saturday and more than that it was becoming clear that within the Scottish group divisions were forming and cliques developing based on geographical location and length of membership, the very type of thing in fact that we’d been moving towards applying for Squad status to separate ourselves from going on within the UKG proper.
In hindsight, this weekend should probably have served as a warning in regards to the motives of some of the membership and the blatant disrespect they’d show to their colleagues this side of the border a situation compounded by the enforced absence of some of the elder statesmen of the group. Deeply unpleasant as it was that day, I doubt anyone had a clue that the Sunday would turn out to be much, much, worse…