It can’t be thunder
“It’s been several hours now, and I’m finally less nervous. The barrage has been light but constant for several hours now, and the ground vibrates lightly. Even the dog has grown accustomed.” My neighbour had believed that we were in for an evening of thunder, despite nothing in the forecast. I knew better; that was artillery fire.
No, I’m not quoting the memoirs of an old soldier. Here, in the city, we’ve been listening (and feeling) heavy gunfire for hours. No war zone though. We have a large military base about twenty-five kilometres from here, across the city and up into the hills. Seems that a firing exercise is underway. Rumbling that can be felt through the floor. Rumbling that would be easily recorded by any decent microphone.
I am glad that I live in a country that is at peace. Elsewhere, people deal with this sort of thing as background noise, but they also have to duck and cover from time to time. Here, our soldiers are in training (for an active duty role elsewhere). Somehow, I’m not tempted to trade an evening of “faux thunder” for the shock and awe of a real barrage aimed in my direction. This is simply a reminder to us that nothing come easy.
This also serves to remind that the basic arms of war haven’t evolved very far in the last couple of centuries. Any soldier from the Napoleonic Wars would immediately identify with the sound. Any soldier from one of our great wars of the last century. In all likelihood, this will still be part of the soundtrack of war in the next century. Shells are cheap and easy to lob. We won’t move to lasers and phasers and photon torpedoes any time soon.
