A Horse, of course
A friend of mine, who belongs to one of the World War II forums I belong to, recently sent me a link to a Russian reenactment site that has a very nice collection of German World War II photo albums that have been scanned picture by picture and are now available online.
Since I love looking at vintage photos, and since photo analysis is a huge part of putting together a good impression for reenactment (the three-letter-agencies ought to hire some of us reenactment types for imagery analyst positions!), I went to have a look.
Not only are there hundreds of photos, but there are close to a hundred photos of cavalry soldiers and their horses, doing everything from riding around the schooling ring, to playing horseback games, to doing some very, very impressive jumping. But the photo below just kind of stood out as weird. It's a horse. Inside a house. I'd love to know the story behind this one!
3 Complaints:
Judging by the layout on the table, I'd say the horse had simply stopped in for a coffee.
Jim
Yes, this one is really outstanding. He probably married that horse :-)
In the 1950's, in Divernon, Illinois, my grandfather drove an old Plymouth. Grandpa is famous for being a little bit tight wit his money, but the flip side is that he cannot resist a good deal whether he's being offered something he can use or not. In those days, my dad and uncle would hear grandpa's car coming down the road and would run into the house and up to the second floor, where they could see it just before it turned the corner.
That day, there was a horse's head stuck out the back window on the driver's side--and a tail on the passenger side. Grandpa was a pipe fitter at the Pillsbury mill in Springfield, and a co-worker had offered him a steal of a deal on a horse, but it had to be gone that day. Grandpa had simply removed the back seat of his Plymouth, opened both rear doors and led the horse to step in from the passenger side. Then he closed the passenger side door behind it, the driver's door in front, and the horse rode (apparently contentedly) the 20 miles or so home.
In later years, that horse developed a system of extortion based on hydraulic despotism and a keen understanding of human priorities. My grandmother was up before anyone else every morning, and every morning she fried one egg before she did anything else.
Why? Because if the first person to visit the outhouse in the morning did not bribe the horse with one fried egg, it would let them pass to the outhouse and then lean against the door. They were then trapped until the next person tried to use the outhouse--and even then, the next person had better produce that egg.
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