.::යුද දැවැන්තඉන්ගේ සොහොන්බිම්{Graveyards Of The Military Titans Around The World}::.
~~~Graveyards Of The Military Titans Around The World~~~
In certain corners of the globe you'll find the strangest of military cemeteries – places filled not with the bodies of fallen troops but littered with the carcasses of abandoned tanks. These once-formidable weapons of war no longer strike fear into the hearts of opposing forces; their days of rolling inexorably onwards on the teeth of steel tracks are over. Now, the armor of these behemoths is rusting and corroded, their hatches all but sealed from lack of use, and their controls never again to be manned by commanders in battle.
If looking down the barrel of a gun is an unpleasant experience, then staring into the gigantic cylinder of a tank’s cannon must surely magnify the sense of menace tenfold – especially if there is any uncertainty as to whether the weapon is still able to fire its deadly projectile. Braving heat, cacti and other hazards, the urban explorers whose images we have collected have taken some amazing shots of tank graveyards from around the world.
The ‘60s slogan of ‘make love not war’ instantly springs to mind when looking at this cross-section of vehicular cemeteries, located everywhere from Afghanistan, Eritrea and Laos, to Germany, Kuwait and Iraq. Once a war is over, decommissioned and defunct tanks are often simply left to rust and rot. Wrecked or simply forsaken, they stand as sinister reminders of more turbulent times.
Perhaps these war machines have finally found peace. Yet whether the same can be said of the people who remember when these fighting vehicles were still in action is another matter. As we ponder such questions, we accompany these once-mighty tanks on their last mission. Rest assured, though, it’s a losing battle – and one harder than any they may have fought – as decay sets in and nature gains a stranglehold, as if attempting to reclaim what was once her own.
Kabul and Kandahar, Afghanistan
Afghanistan is home to at least two major tank graveyards, both situated in the country’s major cities. These cemeteries were born of the Soviet war in Afghanistan that began in 1979 and ended in the late ‘80s. One of them, lying just outside Kabul, contains a huge collection of abandoned and broken down armored vehicles left behind when the Soviet forces finally withdrew from the territory they had occupied for so long. Stripped, corroding and besmirched by graffiti, the tanks hark back to bygone days of war.
Any city over 3,500 years old is likely to have seen its share of battles, and one located along the historic trade routes of South and Central Asia is all the more likely to have been at the center of various conflicts – as Kabul can attest. The Indian Maurya Empire, the Mongols, the Mughal Empire, the British, the Soviets, the Taliban – over time, the Afghan capital has witnessed invasions and seizures of powers from these forces and more. And today, not discounting its palaces, parks and monuments, Kabul is the site of many relics of war: scarred buildings, people... not to mention tanks.
Given Afghanistan’s war-torn history, it is perhaps unsurprising that the place pictured here, known as the 'battle tank graveyard,' should also be a landmark of Kandahar, the country’s second-largest city. Here, rows upon rows of Soviet T-62 tanks are gradually rusting away. During the nine-year war fought between the Soviet Union and Afghanistan, the T-62 tanks supplanted the T-55 as the Soviets’ leading battle tank. These dilapidated T-62s, though, have clearly been discarded for good.
Senior Airman Kenny Holston, who took these photographs, has this to say about his first-hand experience of Kandahar’s tank graveyard: “Numerous amounts of discarded heavy warfare machinery left behind by Russian forces can be found rotting away in the vast empty fields of Afghanistan.” Some of the battered and decaying tanks are covered with spray paint markings; all are orange with rust.
Even though it is slowly corroding, there’s nothing reassuring about looking down the rugged barrel of this T-62. The once-powerful gun can, even now, instil fear in people’s hearts. Grave reminders of the Russian invasion that are unlikely to be recycled, these tanks are unlikely to be going anywhere soon. And given Afghanistan’s history since the Soviet war, neither are they likely to be the last vehicles of their kind left to such a slow and ignoble fate.
Unknown Desert Location, Kuwait
Pictured are some of the remnants of the Gulf War: domestically built T-72 tanks, Soviet-made T-54As, or old Chinese Type 59 and Type 63s – all vehicles used by Iraq to oppose a military onslaught against which they stood little chance. Codenamed Operation Desert Storm, the war lasted from August 1990 to February 1991, with 34 nations (led by the United States) fighting against Iraq, which had foolishly invaded Kuwait.
Here’s a close-up of the once-powerful tracks rusting away, buried in the sand like the bones of some perished beast. This really does look like a cemetery, with the half-interred remains all too visible. Some of the tanks evidently had their turrets ripped off or their armor torn apart as they were knocked out by enemy fire; others are little more than a mass of scorched and twisted metal.
Tank battles were fought both in Iraq and Kuwait during the Gulf War. Heavy losses were suffered by the Iraqis, with dozens of tanks, trucks and armored vehicles destroyed. Coalition casualties were, however, relatively light. The Iraqi tanks were outdated and ill-equipped to deal with those of their opponents, who also had superior training. Indeed, such was the superiority of the coalition battle tanks that they could engage and destroy their Iraqi counterparts long before they were themselves in range.
This tank is still intact but is far from being in good shape. The commander’s MG, the main gun, the tracks and road wheels are still present, but neglect and the desert elements have taken their toll. Perhaps it was abandoned, or simply broke down. Whatever its fate, it is now nothing more than a metallic corpse in a desert cemetery.
Phonsavan, Laos
What are the old rusting carcasses of Russian tanks doing in Laos? Well, where there’s a tank, there was a war. Laos got dragged into the Vietnam War (1955- 1975) and paid dearly for it. A significant portion of the war was fought on Laotian territory, and Laos is actually reckoned to be most bombed nation on Earth. A fact that’s hard to fathom, reported by The Guardian, is that “Laos was hit by an average of one B-52 bombload every eight minutes, 24 hours a day, between 1964 and 1973.” Truly a statistic that quantifies the utter madness of the conflict.
The war raged no less fiercely on the ground, and many then-modern tanks were used. The box-like shape of the tank wreck seen here in Phonsavan indicate that it was an amphibious tank, a PT-76, to be precise – the Soviet Army’s standard reconnaissance light tank, hundreds of which were exported to North Vietnam. Even now, some still lie all but interred in the mud, with little more than their hatches visible above the murky surface.
Outfitted with a driver’s periscope, amphibious tanks can swim once their electric bilge pumps are activated, and the flat hull is boat-shaped to decrease resistance in the water. Rusted and overgrown with grass, what these days somehow resembles a beat-up old toy was once a feared killing machine – not to mention a vehicle that must have been claustrophobic to sit inside.
In certain corners of the globe you'll find the strangest of military cemeteries – places filled not with the bodies of fallen troops but littered with the carcasses of abandoned tanks. These once-formidable weapons of war no longer strike fear into the hearts of opposing forces; their days of rolling inexorably onwards on the teeth of steel tracks are over. Now, the armor of these behemoths is rusting and corroded, their hatches all but sealed from lack of use, and their controls never again to be manned by commanders in battle.
If looking down the barrel of a gun is an unpleasant experience, then staring into the gigantic cylinder of a tank’s cannon must surely magnify the sense of menace tenfold – especially if there is any uncertainty as to whether the weapon is still able to fire its deadly projectile. Braving heat, cacti and other hazards, the urban explorers whose images we have collected have taken some amazing shots of tank graveyards from around the world.
The ‘60s slogan of ‘make love not war’ instantly springs to mind when looking at this cross-section of vehicular cemeteries, located everywhere from Afghanistan, Eritrea and Laos, to Germany, Kuwait and Iraq. Once a war is over, decommissioned and defunct tanks are often simply left to rust and rot. Wrecked or simply forsaken, they stand as sinister reminders of more turbulent times.
Perhaps these war machines have finally found peace. Yet whether the same can be said of the people who remember when these fighting vehicles were still in action is another matter. As we ponder such questions, we accompany these once-mighty tanks on their last mission. Rest assured, though, it’s a losing battle – and one harder than any they may have fought – as decay sets in and nature gains a stranglehold, as if attempting to reclaim what was once her own.
Kabul and Kandahar, Afghanistan
Afghanistan is home to at least two major tank graveyards, both situated in the country’s major cities. These cemeteries were born of the Soviet war in Afghanistan that began in 1979 and ended in the late ‘80s. One of them, lying just outside Kabul, contains a huge collection of abandoned and broken down armored vehicles left behind when the Soviet forces finally withdrew from the territory they had occupied for so long. Stripped, corroding and besmirched by graffiti, the tanks hark back to bygone days of war.
Any city over 3,500 years old is likely to have seen its share of battles, and one located along the historic trade routes of South and Central Asia is all the more likely to have been at the center of various conflicts – as Kabul can attest. The Indian Maurya Empire, the Mongols, the Mughal Empire, the British, the Soviets, the Taliban – over time, the Afghan capital has witnessed invasions and seizures of powers from these forces and more. And today, not discounting its palaces, parks and monuments, Kabul is the site of many relics of war: scarred buildings, people... not to mention tanks.
Given Afghanistan’s war-torn history, it is perhaps unsurprising that the place pictured here, known as the 'battle tank graveyard,' should also be a landmark of Kandahar, the country’s second-largest city. Here, rows upon rows of Soviet T-62 tanks are gradually rusting away. During the nine-year war fought between the Soviet Union and Afghanistan, the T-62 tanks supplanted the T-55 as the Soviets’ leading battle tank. These dilapidated T-62s, though, have clearly been discarded for good.
Senior Airman Kenny Holston, who took these photographs, has this to say about his first-hand experience of Kandahar’s tank graveyard: “Numerous amounts of discarded heavy warfare machinery left behind by Russian forces can be found rotting away in the vast empty fields of Afghanistan.” Some of the battered and decaying tanks are covered with spray paint markings; all are orange with rust.
Even though it is slowly corroding, there’s nothing reassuring about looking down the rugged barrel of this T-62. The once-powerful gun can, even now, instil fear in people’s hearts. Grave reminders of the Russian invasion that are unlikely to be recycled, these tanks are unlikely to be going anywhere soon. And given Afghanistan’s history since the Soviet war, neither are they likely to be the last vehicles of their kind left to such a slow and ignoble fate.
Unknown Desert Location, Kuwait
Pictured are some of the remnants of the Gulf War: domestically built T-72 tanks, Soviet-made T-54As, or old Chinese Type 59 and Type 63s – all vehicles used by Iraq to oppose a military onslaught against which they stood little chance. Codenamed Operation Desert Storm, the war lasted from August 1990 to February 1991, with 34 nations (led by the United States) fighting against Iraq, which had foolishly invaded Kuwait.
Here’s a close-up of the once-powerful tracks rusting away, buried in the sand like the bones of some perished beast. This really does look like a cemetery, with the half-interred remains all too visible. Some of the tanks evidently had their turrets ripped off or their armor torn apart as they were knocked out by enemy fire; others are little more than a mass of scorched and twisted metal.
Tank battles were fought both in Iraq and Kuwait during the Gulf War. Heavy losses were suffered by the Iraqis, with dozens of tanks, trucks and armored vehicles destroyed. Coalition casualties were, however, relatively light. The Iraqi tanks were outdated and ill-equipped to deal with those of their opponents, who also had superior training. Indeed, such was the superiority of the coalition battle tanks that they could engage and destroy their Iraqi counterparts long before they were themselves in range.
This tank is still intact but is far from being in good shape. The commander’s MG, the main gun, the tracks and road wheels are still present, but neglect and the desert elements have taken their toll. Perhaps it was abandoned, or simply broke down. Whatever its fate, it is now nothing more than a metallic corpse in a desert cemetery.
Phonsavan, Laos
What are the old rusting carcasses of Russian tanks doing in Laos? Well, where there’s a tank, there was a war. Laos got dragged into the Vietnam War (1955- 1975) and paid dearly for it. A significant portion of the war was fought on Laotian territory, and Laos is actually reckoned to be most bombed nation on Earth. A fact that’s hard to fathom, reported by The Guardian, is that “Laos was hit by an average of one B-52 bombload every eight minutes, 24 hours a day, between 1964 and 1973.” Truly a statistic that quantifies the utter madness of the conflict.
The war raged no less fiercely on the ground, and many then-modern tanks were used. The box-like shape of the tank wreck seen here in Phonsavan indicate that it was an amphibious tank, a PT-76, to be precise – the Soviet Army’s standard reconnaissance light tank, hundreds of which were exported to North Vietnam. Even now, some still lie all but interred in the mud, with little more than their hatches visible above the murky surface.
Outfitted with a driver’s periscope, amphibious tanks can swim once their electric bilge pumps are activated, and the flat hull is boat-shaped to decrease resistance in the water. Rusted and overgrown with grass, what these days somehow resembles a beat-up old toy was once a feared killing machine – not to mention a vehicle that must have been claustrophobic to sit inside.
ela thanx kollaz
