I only love the UK's soldiersFollow

Holy cats.

I've no idea of what kind of training they get but it seems like quick thought to use his rucksack to absorb the brunt of the explosion.

Yep. I think he did it with his back to it because he was hoping for an open casket.

Royal marines are crazy, bat-shit crazy.

Some guys from 9 Assault Squadron (Based on HMS Ocean) ran the London marathon with full Bergans all three years i was onboard, that's ALOT of weight.

I see you have met a Royal marine reavenance

I wasn't aware that David Hyde Pierce and Kesley Grammar were Royal Marines...

Edit: But it makes so much sense now.

Edited, Jul 23rd 2008 2:50pm by reavenance

I wonder if his rucksack could absorb the blast from the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch...

fixed

Edited, Jul 23rd 2008 2:56pm by reavenance

All of the military uses Cockney rhyming slang, all the time. We even have a couple of our own.

Going to the colonel gadaffi = naffi.

Chicken Dipper = Skipper.

Make and Snake = Make and mend.

This would be way funnier if it meant Stripper.

Nexa

There's a fine line between selfless hero and fUckwit.

The George Cross was deemed an appropriate reward, but for a while they were considering a pair of big shoes and a straightjacket.

Hats off to the guy.

I have heard (anecdote only) from his neighbour that rather than a 'grenade' it was a crappy little IED that would barely part your hair, but even if that's true, I doubt he was able to make that evaluation at the time.

Balls of steel

Or a pair of those brass bull balls that he thought he might be able to attach to his rucksack...

He amputated his own fingers on his left hand...

Fucking NAILS!!!

Seriously, while what the guy did is most definitely ballsy, by-and-large it is utterly unncessary due to the nature of grenade munitions. It is a staple of WW2 movies where the heroic (but un-marqueed actor) dives upon a potato masher, thus saving the lives of his fellow soldiers while tragically leaving a beautiful fiance back home.

Remarkably this movie lore has burrowed into the public consciousness and become SOP for a frantic response to a hand grenade attack.

Due to the nature of high explosives and the shape of your typical 'nade, the only needed response to an imminent explosion is to quickly kick the offending item away from you and lay down flat on the ground. Assuming you aren't sitting in a sub-compact car and someone has chucked one into the passenger seat and you're belted securely in with the doors locked, you should be able to get down on the ground and find your ears ringing but otherwise basically unscathed.

In a foxhole, you'd be due a tongue lashing from the company first shirt if you hadn't built a grenade sump where you could kick the wicked thing in the event one finds its way at your feet. Granted, the close confines of a foxhole are going to magnify the blast effects, leaving you at least partially deaf for life, but that beats the alternative: leaping on the grenade to save your buddy's life.

You see, because all shrapnel is directed upward into a 45* arc, you'd have to be knee level or higher for any of the nasty bits of hot and stinging metal to pierce your skin. Sure the headache will be blinding and you might even be bleeding from the ears, nose, and mouth, but you'll be alive.

So should you find yourself being assaulted with grenades by homegrown Muzzie terrorists in, say, Chicago, while visiting your local Starbucks, remember this post and ignore the urge to impress your Peruvian bride with your gallantry by tossing yourself on the explosive while mouthing the words, "I love you!" Just casually nudge it over towards that table with the incessantly gabby executive secretary who has a cell phone surgically attached to her ear and is talking loud enough for everyone in the store to hear about how her date went with that a$$hole stockbroker, and let it blow her up.

You're welcome.

Totem