Gunfight at the old quarry

I marched into the cave, armed with Meredith, the Arctic Shock Super Soaker, holding Eliza - a small lightweight pistol in my other hand.  Eliza had shown promise on the firing range, but Meredith was completely untested. 

Did I see a movement?  There's someone in the shadows. 

"Eat watery death!", I yelled soaking him with a full barrol of dihydrogen monoxide.  He shot back.  It was only a flesh wound.  Water chamber empty, I fell back, pumping vigourously.  I heard the same noise from my opponent.  He had a more powerful weapon.  I didn't have a chance.  All I could do was fall back and await reinforcements.  More guns arrived, and we charged.  Emptying barrels and drowning our opponent.  He fired back but his supply was spent.  All he could do was run, followed by streams of hissing liquid.

We'd managed to get a beachhead.  But there were more people up ahead, and half the platoon were soaked.  I heard a scuffle in the darkness.  SPLOOSH!  I didn't hit anyone, but I was close.  I dodged behind a rock, and managed to avoid a cascade.  But he was out of pressure, and I still had another gun.  Most of the inhabitants eliminated, I found a  place to wait to sit in wait.  Waiting for the others to come to try to reclaim the cave.  My eyes were slowly becoming accustomed to the dark. .  They came.  They had no idea where I was.  It was a slaughter. 

War is hell.  Or at least very very wet.