Discussion in 'Turf and Surf Hunting and Fishing' started by Quigley_Sharps, Oct 8, 2012.
Problem was Not Enough Vodka first!
Jeez...........because you know, water will protect you from things under it. I guess they don't understand hydraulics.
Even crazy, red-neck, white-trash, hillbillies from the Appa-lay-shuns know to throw the dynamite AWAY from the boat, not under it.
Probably a faulty Russian/ Chinese stop watch in the other guys had LOL
Well, at least he didn't use his teeth to pull out the pin.
That's a damned short fuse, or he held on too long after releasing the lever.
Lets hope that the competency at grenade throwing in the following Youtube clip is the norm in the PLA.
Fuses cannot be depended on to give you that 3-5 seconds. Our grenade instructor told of some going off just barely clearing the berm. On my first I was slow to duck and the instructor jerked me down. Better safe than sorry. Like the Chinese pit better than ours. All we had was a pit with a grenade pit in the corner. Never saw it but some have actually dropped a live one.
My father, an Army Reserve infantry warrant officer during the 1970's was a throwing bay safety officer at a grenade range practice once, and the soldier who was with him on that day was a cacky handed southpaw showing signs of nervousness. The digger threw his grenade akwardly and it didn't clear the top of the berm, and went bouncing back into the throwing bay. My father got the soldier and himself safely out of the throwing bay without injury, but the soldier and range conducting officer were badly shaken up. My father made the soldier throw again immediately, and threatened the soldier that he would continue throwing grenades until he got one over the berm somewhere towards the target. The soldier succeeded at the 2nd attempt and regained his composure and confidence. Had the soldier not been encouraged to get back on the horse, he may have remained fearful of hand grenades.
I enjoyed grenade practices, and usually hurled them not at the target but as hard as I could, just to see how far I could throw the f*ckers. Usually at most grenade practices we had two grenades each to throw. Each time we threw, we weren't permitted to duck for cover until the range conducting officer gave the command "DOWN!", the time spent between throwing and the command to duck down being spent in watching where the grenade would land, in the event that the grenade was a blind and had to be found and destroyed in situ. On one occasion it had rained heavily the night before....I did my usual trick, lobbing the first grenade as far as I could, rather than at the target. This annoyed the safety NCO in the throwing bay with me considerably, and he barked at me to "throw it at f**cking target!" He wanted accuracy rather than an entry in Guiness Book of Records for long distance throwing. I did throw the 2nd grenade much closer to the target and managed to score a bulls eye....in a respectably sized crater near the target. The grenade detonated, and we were all showered with a fountain of turgid muddy water and a brief hailstorm of lumpy clay, dropping like birdshit from a flock of incontinent seagulls. He was not amused. There's something to be said for having a "Good Soldier Schweik" moment, even if I did get a bollocking for it!
I hated grenades. There was just something disturbing about holding that little black metal ball, capable of blowing me in two. Because I hated them so much, I volunteered to go to the grenade range at every opportunity, just to make sure that I never feared them. I went every time my unit was scheduled to go, and if another company was going to the range, I'd tag along whenever possible.
I did the same thing with fastroping. I never minded rapelling, but fastroping was another matter. Too many variables. Therefore, I'd do it every time the opportunity presented itself.
A couple more generations and his gene pool might become extinct
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