Saturday, December 13, 2008

How to Support Your National Economy

I kid you not, every word of this is true.

A couple of weeks ago, a rather large group of us went off to celebrate a colleague's upcoming birthday. We spent days preparing and somehow kept it secret. We departed at 9:00 with a full bus and travelled about 50 km to destination.

Finally, we arrived for one of the most highly anticipated moments in my life. We all sat around waiting eagerly when we heard the thunderous motor start up and the creaking metal hull of a 1980s T-54 Soviet tank came out from behind the rather easily penetrable wall. That's right, a tank. We we not here to just look at this tank, no, we were here to DRIVE this tank.

How does one drive a tank? First you need to have a friend. This friend needs to be close, personal friends with a minister of defense. This minister of defense should ideally be in a developing country. This developing country should have little money for national defence. You should have about $200 of disposable cash. And finally, you need to know how to drive a stick shift.

I, of course, do NOT know how to drive a stick shift. Yes, my dad gave me one lesson a couple of years ago, but I really did not know what I was doing. Also, tanks don't have steering wheels. They have two levers. one for turning right and one for turning left. As I was faking knowing how to drive a stick shift, I quickly realized that I only have two hands, but three levers to manoeuvre. As I got in, I was told that it needs a good amount of gas for it not to stall. Keeping this in mind, I hammered the gas as I lifted off the clutch (and I didn't even stall it). The result of this? I managed to do a peelout in a tank. To put this in perspective, tanks are specifically designed to not have this happen. Their treads are designed for maximum traction, and we were on a dirt road. One other thing to keep in mind, tanks don't have windscreens. You watch where you are going by peering through a single one-by-four inch periscope. Talk about blind spots.

While we were driving along this remote and secluded road, we of course encountered a passing car. I couldn't help but wonder what would be my first thoughts when I saw a rather large weapon driving toward me, clearly being piloted by people who were not even remotely qualified to operate it.

As if driving a tank wasn't enough, we felt it necessary to shoot multiple firearms. Now, I'm not a gun enthusiast, nor do I support gun violence, so let's just call this.... firearm entertainment. I opted out of the rapid-fire machine gun, but to be honest it did look like a lot of fun. I first chose to fire eight rounds from a 9mm Makarov Pistol at a distance of about 20 feet. The fake guy (read target) I was firing at, was not likely very impressed. My first round was awfully errant, and I was clearly not ready for that much recoil. Of my next six shots, I managed to hit his ear, and wing him in the shoulder. With one shot left, I really angered this fake guy. You know that little button on top of ball caps? If he was wearing one, I would have hit that, and not his head. This is also where a metal crossbar happened to be, so the bullet ricocheted half way back to me.

Next up, the AK47. Surprisingly, the handgun makes more noise. I got 30 rounds, and managed to not hit a single target (all of which were 200 to 500 feet away). After finishing my turn, I asked my good friend Jeff to take a picture of me. Not thinking that I had just finished firing this weapon, i allowed my hand to grab the barrel. Bad idea. Not that it's a huge surprise, but those barrels get hot. I mean burn-your-hand-instantly kind of hot.

Finally I got my chance at the one weapon I truly wanted to fire - the Dragonov Sniper Rifle. Not to brag, but I did hit 2 targets in my ten rounds. Once again my arch nemesis, recoil, got me again. This recoil was not like the pistol. This rifle kicks back about 4 inches, allowing it to hit me right in the eye.

To cap off our day, one of group decided to splurge and pay to fire an RPG. I learned that RPG stands for rocket powered grenade. And rocket powered it is. This thing has such a punch that there is a shockwave that is strong enough to knock people over that are standing 20 feet away!

What is clearly important to remember about this whole trip is that it was a humanitarian outing. We can't just let the Russians or the Chinese invade our Mongolian friends. So it is our duty to drive their tanks and shoot their guns to help fund their military.



Da da da da duh. Da da da da duuh.

Firing the Dragonov Rifle

The RPG

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

sorry friend, it doesn't sound funny at all ...