The Russian soldier seems to slightly miss a step, clambering aboard his tank.
That soldier’s going to have an owie, somewhere on his body, I’m thinking. Because military tanks are 50 tons, or more, of contusion-causing armor.
They’ve changed, I’m sure, since I was in an armored brigade… with more bells and whistles, I’d imagine, and more technology, and more powerful weapons.
But the one thing, I’m pretty sure, that hasn’t changed… is the owies military tanks can deliver, to, of course, anyone their array of weaponry happens to be aiming at… but also to the soldiers operating the tanks. When they’re, simply, clambering aboard, or bouncing around, inside.
Military tanks are very unforgiving, I learned, early on, getting bruised quite a bit when I was in the turret, and the tank zigged, as it was rolling along, when I was thinking it would zag.
The workspace, inside, was a bit tight… and unless the interior design is totally different, which seems doubtful, since the exterior design of the Russian tanks, shown on TV, looks about the same as the much older models of the American tanks I served on, modern-day soldiers are still getting their share of owies, I’d guess.
But soldiers are supposed to be tough, you know.
A 78-year-old retired Ukrainian accountant – a grandmother, as I recall – was in the news, taking some military training. Getting ready, if an estimated 130,000 Russian soldiers, with their tanks, and missiles and other weapons of war were ordered to blast their way into Ukrainian territory.
With her own children as they were growing up, and, now, grandkids, you can bet the retired accountant is all too familiar with owies.
And, she’s probably equally familiar with the fog, and the folly, of war.