Why would a man once injured by a cluster bomb pick up another? One brick short of a load?

A fellow hand delivered a cluster bomblet to us! What in the world was he thinking? Many people in his village have had tragic, first-hand experiences with the device that they call “the bombie”. During our visit villagers described incidents in which at least six of their neighbors had been killed by similar bomblets. Why would the guy pick up the device and carry it to us, endangering not only himself and his neighbors but, shockingly, the young granddaughter that he carried on his back?

It would be easy write him off as mentally deficient:

“Head whistles in a cross wind”
“A brain like a BB in a boxcar”
“IQ lower than a snake’s belly in a wagon-rut”

As luck would have it, my video camera was already running when the fellow arrived with bombie in hand and, except for a few indecisive seconds while I debated whether to continue filming or dive for cover, my camera caught the entire drama. Most importantly, I recorded the man’s explanation. After reconstructing his thinking, I’ve decided that his act was not as foolish as it first appeared.

When questioned, the man told us that, over the years, he’s had close encounters with three different bomblets. The first, he took care to observe at a considerable distance. But, with his family’s safety in mind, he felt responsible for destroying the device where it lay. (Readers should remember that villagers in Phongsali have never had any assistance with old ordnance. Everything that America dropped on the province that failed to explode still litters the countryside. The exception, of course, is the ordnance that villagers have themselves detonated on purpose or by accident).

Facing the first bombie that he felt personally responsible to destroy, the guy withdrew to a seemingly safe distance and shot it with his rifle. He succeeded in detonating the bomblet, but was immediately hit in the neck by shrapnel. As a consequence he was disabled for nearly six months.

Had the fellow had the benefit of even introductory risk education he’d have known that bombies, though small, have an effective killing range of 30 meters and have been known to kill bystanders standing 100 meters away. Hence our warning to men with rifles and boys with slingshots: “If you can see it…it can see you”.

The man encountered his second bomblet several years after his near-fatal accident. He immediately ran away from it, no doubt feeling that his earlier injury absolved him of responsibility for its removal or destruction.

So…why, when the fellow encountered a third bomblet, would he pick it up and carry it to us?

The man found that bomblet in a field that he had burnt in anticipation of planting his crops. Most people living in UXO contaminated areas have witnessed bomblets and other old ordnance “cook off” as flames scorch brush-covered fields. Viewed from a safe distance, it’s a thrilling spectacle. (In some parts of Laos slash and burn agriculture might well be renamed “slash and boom”).

Our new friend, like most villagers, assumed that any ordnance still present after the burning must truly be a dud that could be safely handled. (Another essential fact that we share at our safety sessions: abused ordnance doesn’t get safer; it often grows more temperamental).

So… the guy brought to us, not just any random bomblet but a bomblet that had survived intense fire, a device that he mistakenly assumed to be an inert dud.

But, why bother carrying it to us? Better, he thought, than leaving the bomblet in the field where it would surely frighten the next person who happened upon it. Old ordnance doesn’t just wound bodies; unexploded bomblets force people to live in constant fear.

The old guy’s not a quart low; not a few bricks shy of a load. He’s got more than sailboat fuel for brains. He was functioning with admirable intentions but limited knowledge. It’s not his fault that he lives in a province that has been deprived of risk education and humanitarian clearance for nearly forty years.