The hazards associated with working with horses are numerous. Over the years, I've been injured in just about every way you can imagine--bucked off, thrown, trampled, stepped on, rolled on, dragged, and bitten. Normal horse stuff. However, since I manage horses in Arizona, I also have to deal with poisonous insects, plants, and snakes, plus mountain lions, bear, and wild fire. Well, now I have found a new hazard--unexploded WWII ordinance.
Bazooka round. |
After the incident with Cal, I decided to go out into the pasture to see if I could find any mountain lion tracks or sign of where the attack occurred. While hiking through the grass, I saw what appeared to be a length of rusty, old pipe. I went over to pick it up and noticed the rusty, old pipe had a conical warhead attached to it. It was an old bazooka shell. I stared at it for a while trying to figure out what to do. The temptation to pick it up was pretty strong. It would make a great souvenir for the office. However, a little voice in my head reminded me that we aren't supposed to pick up unexploded ordinance or UXOs.
I did not have any flags to mark it with (like anyone would be walking around with UXO marker flags), so I stacked some rocks around it and then laid a line of rocks across a nearby horse trail pointing to the UXO. Satisfied I would be able to find it again, I returned to the stables and promptly forgot about it. I didn't really forget about it, I just didn't have time to deal with it. The horses were out of the pasture and it wasn't likely anyone would be walking around out there except, maybe, illegal aliens. And, since the shell had been sitting there for about sixty years, I didn't think another day would hurt.
The EOD convoy. |
The fifty-eight acres of land that is now our horse pasture was once a training ground for soldiers on their way to Europe during WWII. There are all kinds of interesting artifacts and ordinance scattered throughout the foothills of the Huachuca Mountains. I had found old rocket casings before, but not an unexploded shell.
When I called the range control people, they came out pretty promptly with the military police and representatives from the Safety Office. I took them out to the location of the bazooka shell and they decided that there was no way to determine if it was still live and that they would have to call the Explosive Ordinance Disposal (EOD) people. However, it would probably be the next day before they could come. They told me to close the pasture and they would be back.
The C4 crater. |
The next day an entourage of range control, safety office, military police, fire fighters, and medical personnel showed up at my pasture. A convoy of all these vehicles went trundling out into the pasture to go deal with this bazooka shell. A police vehicle blocked the gate after the convoy had passed through. About thirty minutes later I heard and explosion. About thirty minutes after that the convoy reappeared and went back to wherever they came from. The range control people called me and said the UXO was destroyed, but that they had caused a small fire, which all the fire trucks put out.
Sometime later, I went out to the site to see what they had done. I was disappointed to see that the C4 they had used to detonate the bazooka shell left only a small dent in the ground. The grass had, indeed, caught on fire, but they kept it from spreading too far.
The remnants of the brush fire. |
Now that the area was safe, I resumed my lion hunting expedition. I didn't find any lions, but I did find...you guessed it...another UXO. Fortunately, this one was already exploded, so it was only an XO.
Just another boring day at the office.
I used to have one of those. I found it laying on the ground in an area not far from where I live now, that used be a city dump. I picked it up and took it home never even considering that it could be live. I kept it for years and finally ended up giving it to an old biker friend of mine that lived in.....Sierra Vista. How I managed to not blow myself up dragging that thing around all those years is beyond me.
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