statetrooper62
32 Cal.
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- Sep 8, 2012
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Someone wrote on this forum that a horn must told a story. So let's go on....
Once upon a time, several months ago, I served in the french army as military policeman. It was somewhere in Africa. The country was quiet, war far away from my station, no political troubles, few french soldiers to watch. So no name to take, no ass to kick. A lot of time to kill.
One day, in a town near the soudani border, I was on duty. Nothing important to do. I drove my jeep PEUGEOT P4 behind the local slaughterhouse. A real dumping ground. Ponds of blood, heaps of raw hides, guts, bones, bones, skull and .... horns. Local people walking around to pick up something to eat, something to sell. Vultures flying in the sky. I don't speak about the smell.
So I walked in the middle of the heap of horns and picked up two or three which looked not too bad.
I had few tools for the job, a rasp and a file from the mechanic, my leatherman tool and some iron wool to clean pans. All I could do was a powder horn in the poor boy style, plain, simple, poor, with no carving.
I decided to try some scrimshaw, a dream which haunted me for a long time. With a chirurgical cutter that I borrowed to the SMASH I drawed some pictures that I colored with a blue permanent marker. I hadn't black one. After this operation, I scratched the horn with the iron wool, to clean pan, to erase the overflows of ink.
On the horn, I drawed pictures about my tour in this country, a map of the base where I served, my names, my military ranks, the dates of my stay in the country, a stork for my home place in France, a sparrowhawk for the name of the french army operation in the country, OPERATION EPERVIER, acronyms of the different units which served in this place and so on.....
You can see the picture of a donkey called IMAR. It wasn't a french military unit but the name of the mascot the local sultan offered as a gift to the base commander.
This powder horn was not a great one but I love it because it's a part of my life. Perhaps, one day in the future, my son will show this horn to his son and tell him about my "adventure" in Africa.
The stopper was made with a local wood.
Once upon a time, several months ago, I served in the french army as military policeman. It was somewhere in Africa. The country was quiet, war far away from my station, no political troubles, few french soldiers to watch. So no name to take, no ass to kick. A lot of time to kill.
One day, in a town near the soudani border, I was on duty. Nothing important to do. I drove my jeep PEUGEOT P4 behind the local slaughterhouse. A real dumping ground. Ponds of blood, heaps of raw hides, guts, bones, bones, skull and .... horns. Local people walking around to pick up something to eat, something to sell. Vultures flying in the sky. I don't speak about the smell.
So I walked in the middle of the heap of horns and picked up two or three which looked not too bad.
I had few tools for the job, a rasp and a file from the mechanic, my leatherman tool and some iron wool to clean pans. All I could do was a powder horn in the poor boy style, plain, simple, poor, with no carving.
I decided to try some scrimshaw, a dream which haunted me for a long time. With a chirurgical cutter that I borrowed to the SMASH I drawed some pictures that I colored with a blue permanent marker. I hadn't black one. After this operation, I scratched the horn with the iron wool, to clean pan, to erase the overflows of ink.
On the horn, I drawed pictures about my tour in this country, a map of the base where I served, my names, my military ranks, the dates of my stay in the country, a stork for my home place in France, a sparrowhawk for the name of the french army operation in the country, OPERATION EPERVIER, acronyms of the different units which served in this place and so on.....
You can see the picture of a donkey called IMAR. It wasn't a french military unit but the name of the mascot the local sultan offered as a gift to the base commander.
This powder horn was not a great one but I love it because it's a part of my life. Perhaps, one day in the future, my son will show this horn to his son and tell him about my "adventure" in Africa.
The stopper was made with a local wood.
atriot:
