Norks

(Said With A Sneer)

If it had been said with a smile, then we'd be talking about the Norwegians.  That sneer means we now direct our jaundiced and cynical eye upon North Korea, the land that makes a starving shothole look like a Cornucopian Eden.  Don't worry, we shan't go into Politics.  Art!

     Those are Norcs, Orcs from the North, which is both close enough and another desperate attempt to persuade visitors that this is anything to do with "Lord Of The Rings".

     Okay, we are going to be touching on logistics, maintenance and Quality Control (hereafter abbreviated to "QC") here, which sounds desperately dull, except you are reading BOOJUM! and we can make buying a newspaper a wild ride.

     <short aside as I go put an immense pizza into the oven>

     Okay, this Intro is going to unpack a report that Ruffia is going to be buying millions of artillery shells and rockets from -

     North Korea.  Pariah state, say hello to pariah state.

     Why is this significant?  Because Ruffia inherited gigantic stockpiles of artillery ammunition from the Soviet Union - I have seen a quote of 3 million tons but this is quite possibly apocryphal, nobody seems to have a definitive figure.  As in all modern warfare since the First Unpleasantness, artillery eats through shells at an appallingly high rate and another, possibly apocryphal figure, is that the Ruffians in Ukraine have gone through 7,000,000 shells.  This doesn't include the ones that have been HIMARS'd in the world's most expensive firework displays.  Art!

State-of-the-art Ruffian warehouse storage

     We know they're having supply issues because Putin ordered The Fat Controller to send all Belarus' 122 mm artillery shells to Ruffia.  Why would they need to do that if they have all these immense stockpiles?

     Your Humble Scribe has a theory.  Art!

     In the top picture you see a gunner adjusting the fuse on a shell.  Below that you can see a cutaway of a fuse itself.  Bear this in mind, a shell will not explode unless it is properly fused, and a fuse is a piece of high-precision engineering.  Now, imagine that the Ruffian artillery stocks have been sitting in storage for 50 years, neglected because the Ruffians don't bother with maintenance or proper ordnance storage protocols.  The high explosive filler in a shell may degrade over time, to the point that you can get dangerous breakdown products that are impact-sensitive, which is why Ruffian arms depots go up in smoke even in peacetime.  Firing an unstable shell like this can result in a  shell detonation in the breech or the barrel, which will remove the gun from inventory, and also the crew.  If a fuse has been sitting, unloved and unwanted, on a shelf for 50 years, who knows how badly rusted and corroded it is?  Art!

"The Iron Harvest"

     Up to one-third of the shells fired by Perfidious Albion at the beginning of the Somme campaign did not explode, because they had dodgy fuses not filtered out by QC.  This is why life as a French or Belgian Explosive Ordnance Disposal officer is so interesting.

     So - North Korea?  The Norks haven't fought a war in seventy years, so their ordnance has never been seriously tested, and cynical old Conrad wonders if they'll just chuck stuff out as fast as possible to get their money.  Then we have logistics.  If the war in Ukraine has brought anything home to the general public, it's how important supply is.  Just think what your weekly requirements are in terms of food, water, clothing, heating, medical care, petrol and then add in small arms ammunition and you get an idea of what's needed to supply troops at the front line.  Well, the Norks are at the end of a supply chain 4,000 miles long.  Art!

     How are these munitions going to get from the Norks to the Ruffians, since these countries are on the opposite sides of the world?  There is the Trans-Siberian Railway, except it would take weeks to get their ordnance from Norkland to Moscow in order for it to be palleted for onward distribution, and you know the Ruffians - they don't do logistics.  Yes, they could fly it out, which is still an 8,000 round trip probably requiring several refuelling stops along the way, nor is it clear how many Ruffian airliners capable of carrying freight are still servicable six months after sanctions, or whether they have fuel to fly.  Don't mention marine transport, it would take about three months for a round trip.

    Hey it's the Juche* chef!  Nork Nork Nork!

     Motley! Go to the beach and get me some shells!

     Hmmm, went a bit overboard on that.  The Intro is nearly to the Outro.

Meanwhile, On "Countryfile"

Let's have an item of less horrid import, and more picture-postcard bucolic charm.  Art!

"Peek A Moo!" by Seb Smith

     I may need to have a word with these people, it's MY job to come up with painful punnery.

    ANYWAY as you can see this is about as Scottish as you can get without putting on a sporran whilst eating porridge made with whisky <gags>.  This is a Highland cow calf having a nosy through heather on moorland, and note how I've kept my hunger at bay.

Okay, Back To Horrid

Do keep up!  When we left "The Sea Of Sand" the aliens were trying to come to terms with having been in suspended animation for centuries, at least.

"The excavators didn't build this, Detachment Leader," said the Sub-leader with just the right amount of deference.

     "Obviously not," retorted Sorbusa.  "Which makes it all the more important we discover what has been happening during our hibernation."

     A team of technicians were in one of the Science Support Buildings, situated to the south of the Trans-mat platform, with that aim in mind.  Sorbusa rounded on Emdoko.

     "Sub-Leader!  I want the Excavators recycled into Combat Cars, as soon as possible.  It ought to have been done already."

     Emdoko qualied in justified fear.  Failure to anticipate, failure to predict, failure in any sense was likely to lead to Evisceration.

     "I will see to it personally, Detachment Leader!" he shrilled, departing at a rapid jog.

     Sorbusa headed for Science Support One, needing to duck to enter - the excavation hadn't removed quite enough from the doorway and surrounding area.

     "Detachment Leader!" barked one of the technicians, jumping up in salute.

     "Enough of that," complained Sorbusa.  "What progress?"

     The lead technician covered his proboscis with both hands, a sign of nervousness.

     "Detachment Leader, from our quartz chronometer, we determine that our hibernation has been - has been for approximately - ah - five thousand years."

     Sorbusa felt as if he'd been hit with the first stage of Evisceration.

     Well, that's a bit of an "Ooopsie!" moment.  Poor old Sorbusa.

     Just retrieved my pizza from the oven - I had to delay after posting above so it's not a charcoal circle.

Another Post-Apocalyptic Film Suggestion

From Cultured Vultures - I think this is the first time I've gotten their name right - and this is number 20 - "Cargo".  I have heard of this and it might even still be available on Netflix.  Art!

     It's set in Ockerland - Australia if we're being formal - and centres on Martin Freeman's character, who is trying to find a refuge or sanctuary for his daughter in a zombie-infested outback, since he's been bitten himself and doesn't have long to live.  Well, that pretty much telegraphs the ending. Having heard good things about it, and having Martin Freeman aboard, who does not know how to give a bad performance, maybe worth a watch.

Finally -

I am being faithfully attended to by Edna, because I have pizza.  A pizza, I might add, big enough for three people.  Which would be Conrad, Conrad and Conrad.

*  Nork concept of 'self-reliance' meaning 'let the peasants starve'