A story for Irondad - Wild Boars. 6/18/2007
It was late when we finally pulled out of the base. Probably about 4 a.m. or thereabouts, and we had a 240 kilometer drive ahead of us through winding country roads and across the Karak pass. My driver had been waiting for me, sitting in the Land Rover, in the rain, while the team finished up what they had to do. After that, they were going to hop into a helo for onward transfer to the northern border, while I had to run back to battalion HQ for a quick debrief and report, and then a mad rush right after to rejoin the team. Naturally, when I asked for a helo to bring me up from battalion to join the team, the logistics officer gave me a “who the fuck do you think you are?” look. I had actually considered pulling out my orders to show him the clearance and priority status, but decided not to. Things are usually classified for a reason, and at that time of my life, I treated “need to know” as something very serious.
As we drove along, the tiredness and fatigue I had been fighting for the last 4 days finally kicked in. I told my driver that I was going to crash, and he just nodded his head and uttered a “very good, sir.” I found myself a comfortable position, and promptly fell asleep. The noise of the wipers swishing across the windscreen was soporific, and the rain beating down on the canvas roof made a nice counter point to the rumble of the tyres on the wet road.
I was just about to start dreaming of a world where nothing at all was green, and no one shouted to get things done, and my clothes didn’t permanently smell of cordite when there was an almighty crash, and the Land Rover skidded to halt. I was woken up primarily by being thrown against the dashboard and slamming my head against the windshield. My driver was very concerned, and started asking if I was o.k. I grunted, and muttered a “what the fuck was that?” He replied that he had hit an animal crossing the road.
The engine of the Land Rover was still running, and the lights were still shining straight ahead. There was no smoke or steam, and the engine wasn’t making funny noises. I thought it must have been a dog or civet cat that we hit, but the driver said it was something a lot bigger than that. Which made sense, because the noise when we hit whatever it was was loud, and I distinctly felt the Land Rover shudder and hesitate momentarily.
It was still raining, but we got out to examine the damage. The bumper was a little caved in, and the winch was a little cockeyed, but otherwise there was no real damage. I looked around to see if whatever we had hit was still around. My driver called out from behind the vehicle, and I walked over. In the dim red light, I saw a wild boar, lying on the road, struggling to get up. The impact had broken it’s leg, and it was in some pain.
My driver looked at me, and asked me if we should try and move the animal to the side of the road, to stop it from being a danger to traffic. I looked back at my driver, unholstered my sidearm, pointed it at the wild boar, and put a bullet through its head to end its suffering. My driver then started dragging the carcass off to the side, when I stopped him.
I opened the tailgate of the Land Rover, and we flung the carcass of the boar inside.
When I finally reached the north border, later that day in the late evening, we had a nice barbecue.
- Posted in : Pulp Fiction
- Author : thesnark
Comments»
Whoa…
Hoi! It ended just the way I thought it would be!
wah, what good fortune! abuden, we had a kijang, hehehe *shhhh…*
Jungle green, olive drab of the fatigues, the jungle rot fungus in the socks, oh to see something other than green. You got that right. Well done, soldier. Waste not, want not. Shared it with your mates in arms. If you had been driving, I would have suspected the boar was run over “accidently on purpose”! See, lucky you didn’t catch the helo, wasn’t it?
I am sure the BBQ taste nice & naturel.
Irondad : Agi idup agi ngalaban. And as the man said, only 2 things fall from the sky.
never met anyone who has actually eaten roadkill before…