Short story from South Lebanon, late nineties, where I was a PFC in NORBATT (Norwegian battalion), UNIFIL (United Nations Interim Force in Lebanon). As a regular infantryman, I took part in check point duty, OP tower duty, and patrols. And on night patrols, we often brought one handler with a K-9, and we were glad to have them. I'm sure you all know that these trained dogs are not for petting, and we were told not to approach them. If they came to us, then fine, we could pet them and so on.

Anyway, on one patrol, the dog gave indication that there were people in the vicinity. Did not bark, as it was trained not to. But full of excitement (or frustration because it couldn't go check them out), the dog grabbed a large rock in its teeth, chomping down on it, working it. The sound of teeth against stone... I could imagine what it really wanted to chew. These patrols were intended to keep armed elements (be they IDF/Israel Defense Forces, Hezbollah or whatever) out of our area of operations, and we had mortars from our nearby base firing flares over us, and they seemed to move out of the area. Good boi!

I spent a year down there, and I never really feared for my life, but on average, we lost 1 guy each year, 20 years, 20 guys, between 1979 and 1999. And quite a few guys returned home with PTSD. But for me, it was one of the best times of my life. Some goofing around too, boys will be boys.

Our ammo was strictly regulated, so we asked locals if they could provide (we bought a LOT of stuff from these guys). And sure enough, days later a car appeared at our gates with a plastic grocery bag full of M60 7.62 ammo, which was compatible with our H&K G3 rifles. "Motivational shooting" ensued. Tore down a ruin, started a small fire on a mountainside. And one evening, we were asked by battalion HQ if we had observed small arms fire/tracers in the area, as they had been asked about this from IDF, the Israelis. "Nah, nothing to report, we saw nothing." So that ended shooting for fun at night.

We also actually had .22 inlay barrels, small tubes that fit inside the G3's, with accompanying magazines and bolt assembly. And we had stacks of .22 ammo, to the detriment of the birdlife in the area. One time we also fired into the nearby river for a while. Until a local guy working along said river got tired of it, produced an AK-47 and fired a few rounds over us. Point taken, we quit doing that for a while.

The "best" episode was with a 12-gauge (I think) shotgun, also kept for motivational purposes. Sometimes I made "slugs" out of regular shells, by making a cut in the plastic mostly all the way around the shell. All the lead balls would then come out encapsulated in the plastic, with enough kinetic energy to penetrate a few millimeters of steel. Fun, and I'm sure it was totally safe. We also had a fire pit where we used to burn garbage and leftovers. Birds often sat down in the pit. One day I went down there, and sure enough, a few birds took off. I hastily took some sort of aim and fired. And the next thing I see along the barrel? Several soldiers diving into an APC with IDF markings, standing on a ridge across the Litani river, approximately 250 meters (about 270 yards) away from me and my trusty 12-gauge. Diving in, and up came a pair of binoculars. They were in enemy territory after all, and they could hardly know it was only a shotgun. "This is great for inter-military relations!", yeah, not my exact thoughts. So I put on my vest and beret, grabbed my rifle. Walked out of our base (not allowed), across the bridge over the Litani river, and up on the ridge (definitely NOT allowed). Made sure to walk in the tracks from the APC, because landmines. "Hi guys, who's the commanding officer?" Promptly got my answer: "Why did you shoot on us!" And proceeded to apologize, explained that it was only a shotgun, didn't see them, and so forth. They seemed to accept, but weren't very talkative, and I needed to haul ass back to base, so I just told them "Stay safe" and moved out.

Not proud of firing like an idiot without observing the area first, but to my defense, we NEVER saw anyone on that ridge (the whole area was more or less empty countryside), except on that day. But I am a bit proud of going over there to talk to them. I figure I prevented worse consequences by talking to them. But I'm sure those guys also remember that point in time, I must have given them a bit of a scare. And maybe I am taken note of in some logbook deep in IDF archives?