Normally, When It Appears In These Pages
We are referring to the 'Armour-Piercing Discardable Sabot', that very unsporting bit of British anti-tank kit that turned Teuton panzers into colanders.
Not today! But before we progress, let us look at the word itself. Yes, it comes from the French originally, quite possibly from Old French 'Savate', which means 'old shoe'. Plus a type of unarmed combat I believe. art!
'Sabotage' and 'Saboteur' seem to have come into use circa 1912, in France due to a rail strike, though how wooden shoes carved from a single block of wood end up meaning Modern-day Ned Ludd escapes me. It has been suggested that a clumsy, shuffling movement of those wearing sabots might be the cause, and it might be except it's boring so we'll move on.
Leaping from one subject to another as we so often do, allow me to introduce you to the term 'thimble car'. We have already seen these in action, since this is the name given to cars that transport red hot slag from steel mills to dumping grounds. 'Thimble' seems to reflect their shape, because there's no other connection. Art!
Let us now continue on to the recollections of a chap who worked at a steel mill: Geneva Plant, Utah, of the US Steel Pipe Works. Art!
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| Geneva Plant |
Like all steel mills, they had slag that needed to be dumped on a daily basis, usually well away from the main site for safety reasons, and perhaps aesthetics, because slag dumps are very depressing places. Art!
Our narrator on Quora informed that he used to have a job straight out of Hades, because it was his job to go out onto the slag and take it's temperature.
No, not straight away, Dougal, that would be both silly and suicidal. Twenty-four hours after the event you see above, he would be out at the slag dump, wearing what he described as 'clogs' but which we will instead christen 'sabots', which he wore over his normal shoes 'to prevent them from melting' as he matter-of-factly puts it. He would then potter over the congealed slag, taking temperature readings. Art!
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| A bunch of slags |
He didn't explicitly say why he took the temperatures, only that after he reported in the slag would be cooled off by dumping sump water on it. Presumably being too hot might cause an explosive reaction, and we've seen how bad a 'wet charge' can be in the smelting process.
Further PPE included heavy canvas overclothes to protect against the elevated temperatures. Nevertheless, he still suffered burns if his skin came into contact with the canvas, as it still transmitted heat. Art!
Yes, he also had a protective face shield. A slightly less sophisticated measure was wearing a scarf over his nose, to protect his nostrils. Inhaling too quickly meant his nostril hair burned, which cannot have been pleasant in terms of pain experienced, and also having to smell burned nostril hairs for the rest of the day. For Your Information, the air at face-level hit about 93º Centigrade, whilst at ground level on the cooling slag itself, 300º Centigrade was the norm. Matey also mentioned that the crews who worked in coke ovens also wore wooden sabots to protect their feet. 'Flammable wood?' you are no doubt thinking to yourself. Not really, these sabots weren't coming into contact with naked flames, they might char a bit and that would be that; wood is also a very bad conductor of heat, so matey's piggies would be safe from burning. Art!
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| Now you can dance across hot coals! |
Our nameless Quoran also described being hit in the face by the raw heat once a 'thimble car' poured out it's cargo of slag, and - rather poetically - described gulls using the thermals generated by the hot slag to coast 100 feet above the dump site, where their chest-feathers reflected back the red and orange glow. The only attractive thing in a wilderness of glassy congealed slag - hmmm yes I did say slag dumps were a lot of a drag, didn't I?
Conrad And His Senior Moment
I shall now quote you a statistic: today I have walked 6,164 steps, as of this sentence, which is a combination of the traditional Boxing Day bowling and walking down to Lesser Sodom. Recorded by my trusty FitBit, which was also getting dangerously low on battery - 9%.
Why, then, did the charger not work?
It would not mate or dock or otherwise attach to the FitBit, and I couldn't work out why. Until - Art!
Without realising, Your Humble Scribe had picked up the wrong charger, which must have been for my old FitBit. No wonder it wouldn't attach. With a curse, the incorrect one was consigned to the bin.
Conrad And His Skeptic Moment
The blog's publication has been a bit erratic for these past couple of days, because being social and intermingling with Hom. Sap. means BOOJUM! takes a back seat. I mean, it's not like I can't stop writing it whenever I like, I can. Just normally choose not to.
ANYWAY I see that our Traffic stats on Blogger have shot up. Art!
Not what you'd expect if the postings are all over the place, and to be honest Conrad imagined people would have better things to do at Christmas than read a silly blog full of whimsy and non sequiteurs. Thank you for reading.
Not Exactly Pacific Or Full Of Goodwill
As we are expected to be at this time of year. On a bit of a tangent, you may be interested to know that Ukraine has now officially moved it's Christmas celebrations from the old Julian calendar to the Gregorian, meaning that they are now having Christmas and Boxing Day instead of in January. Welcome to the Western way! That is, if they celebrate Boxing Day outside This Sceptred Isle?
Okay, let's prod Art into semi-sentience with this pitchfork I found earlier -
'Doghead' has printed off a faithful 3D cable-car and kit-bashed a couple of figures for it, in a representation of a scene from -
Don't tell me you don't know! "Broadsword calling Danny Boy -" is a line from that classic action thriller "Where Eagles Dare", which bears absolutely no relation to reality but which is tremendous fun nevertheless. As for the decoration - Art!
I doubt he could patent and flog it as Universal or whomever must have a copyright on it and their lawyers would instantly sue, the Hollywood dastards. It might catch on amongst wargaming geeks, mind. Once again -
"Broadsword calling Danny Boy, Broadsword calling Danny Boy, come in, over".
Mister Wrightson's Oeuvre Not Especially Pacific Either
I have done the due diligence and FPG trading card #53 is indeed available on teh Interwebz, entitled "Indecision". Art!
Ah, that explains it. Well, this is why you have artefacts like decks of cards or dice. Draw or throw and let that be your decision. Unusually, Bernie doesn't describe the artistic process of creating this image nor the media he used for it, which Conrad does not mind, as he is more interested in the 'What' than the 'How'.
Finally -
Quick! Flee before you can be subjected to Christmas Present Haul pictures and descriptions!
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