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#Danish army
defensenow · 4 months
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tinhatalpaca · 1 year
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rosevelvetcupcake · 1 year
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variousqueerthings · 2 years
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I’m on the columbo episode that takes place at the military academy, and it’s very satisfying to see them unleash a funky little adhd man onto a rigorous macho (abusive) type of institution
not predicting he’s about to change the whole world, but sometimes all you need is to experience some mild chaos
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charlotte-of-wales · 2 years
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casbooks · 2 months
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Book 38 of 2024 (★★★★)
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Title: M113 in action Authors: Stephen Tunbridge & Robert C. Stern
Series: 2017 of Armor in action ISBN: 9780897470506 Rating: ★★★★ Subject: Books.Military.20th-21st Century.Armor.US Armor, Books.Military.20th-21st Century.Asia.Vietnam War.Armor, Books.Military.20th-21st Century.Asia.Vietnam War.ARVN.Armor, Books.Military.20th-21st Century.Asia.Vietnam War.Australia.Armor, Books.Military.20th-21st Century.Asia.Vietnam War.US Army.Armor, Books.Military.Series.Squadron Signal
Description: The M113 remains one of the most significant landmarks in the history of Armored Fighting Vehicles. Despite truly impressive production figures, surprisingly little has been published on the M113.
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jariv4 · 11 months
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Wedding of Prince Juan Carlos of Spain to Sophia Princess of Greece and Denmark.
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packerfansam-blog · 11 months
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fingertipsmp3 · 1 year
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Thousand Year Old Vampire is such a great game fr. I love creating a little dude and then absolutely wrecking his shit
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blueiscoool · 1 year
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The 'Carnyx' Nightmare of the Roman Soldiers
The Carnyx was a brass musical instrument used as a psychological weapon of war by the ancient Celts between 300 BC and 200AD in western and central Europe and beyond.
The carnyx was once widespread throughout much of Europe, although only a dozen or so fragments are known to us.
It was carried by bands of Celtic mercenaries; it was present at the attack on the Greek sanctuary at Delphi in 279 BC; it defied Julius Caesar in Gaul; and it faced Claudius when he invaded Britain. They are even shown on a Buddhist sculpture in India, proof of the far-flung connections of the Iron Age world.
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However, they were not only used by the Celts; they were also used by the Dacians in modern Romania. The term “Celtic” is a complicated one. The concept of a pan-European Celtic culture is a myth; rather, aspects of art and technology were shared across vast distances by diverse cultures. The carnyx was one example of this.
A 12-foot-long, thin bronze tube with right-angle bends on both ends made up the carnyx. The lower end ended in a mouthpiece, and the upper end flared out into a bell that was usually decorated to look like a wild boar’s had. Historians believe it had a tongue that flapped up and down, increasing the noise made by the instrument. The carnyx was played upright so that the boar’s head bell protruded well above the warriors’ heads. Its primary goal was to create more noise and confusion on the battlefield.
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The Greek historian Polybius (206-126BC) was so impressed by the clamor of the Gallic army and the sound of the carnyx, he observed that “there were countless trumpeters and horn blowers and since the whole army was shouting its war cries at the same time there was such a confused sound that the noise seemed to come not only from the trumpeters and the soldiers but also from the countryside which was joining in the echo”.
And the Roman historian Diodorus Siculus wrote, “Their trumpets are also of a peculiar and barbaric kind which produce a harsh, reverberating sound suitable to the confusion of battle.”
Archaeologists discovered a hoard of ritually destroyed weapons in 2004, including a dozen swords, scabbards, spearheads, a shield, bronze helmets, an iron helmet shaped like a swan, a cauldron, animal remains, and seven carnyces. Before the Tintignac discovery, the remains of only five actual carnyces had been found.
The finest was unearthed in Deskford, Scotland in 1816. The Deskford carnyx only has the boar’s head bell and is missing the mane, tongue, and tubing. Images of Carnyx players have been found as well. A Roman denarius, dating from 48 BC bears a representation of a Carnyx. Three carnyx players are featured prominently on the Gundestrup Cauldron, which was found in a Danish peat bog.
One of the seven found at Tintignac, on the other hand, was almost entirely complete. The Tintignac Carnyx was broken into 40 pieces. When puzzled back together, it was found to be just an inch short of six feet long with a single missing section of the tube. The bell was a boar’s head with protruding tusks and large pointed ears. Once restored, the Tintignac Carnyx proved to be the first virtually complete carnyx ever found.
By Leman Altuntaş.
Music video by John Kenny.
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xphaiea · 6 months
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Icelandic people from the late 19th and early 20th centuries. They were taken by Daniel Bruun (1856-1931), a member of the Danish Army, archaeologist and writer.
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defensenow · 3 months
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whitedarkmoonflower · 6 months
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Caged bird
Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)
Authors note: I felt so sorry for the load of angst I dumped on you this week. Have this little treat as a compensation.
Warnings: SMUT 18+
Summary: It had been only a week since the handsome Dane, strength and danger emanating from his every pore, had evaded your secluded life, turning it upside down in the blink of an eye. 
Word Count: 2,3 K
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A startled yelp escaped your lips as you felt two strong arms encircle your waist, swiftly pulling you into one of the nearby empty rooms. Your arms were laden with fresh beddings as you were swept away. 
A hand promptly covered your mouth, muffling any sound, while searingly hot breath caressed your neck, followed by hungry lips that sent shivers coursing up and down your spine,  as you struggled to catch your breath. Words were unnecessary; you would always recognise those lips, the rough yet tender touch of those hands, and the heat of that familiar breath against your skin.
You let go of the bundle of linens, allowing them to scatter across the floor, disregarding them entirely. Your fingers found solace in the soft, thick strands of hair, urging the eager mouth closer as you arched your back against the sturdy wooden door.
"This is madness, Sihtric," you murmured softly, barely audible, as the hand that had covered your mouth now ventured downward, caressing your breasts through the fabric of your dress. Hot lips followed, leaving a trail of kisses from your collarbone to your shoulder and back down to the curve of your cleavage.
"We can't... I can't... Oh, God, Sihtric," your protest dissolved into a gasp as an eager hand boldly gathered the fabric of your skirt, slipped beneath it and delved behind the hem of your undergarment, reaching your core.
"Don't deny me," a throaty whisper, laden with longing, brushed against your ear, eliciting a soft whine from your lips, as your legs spread on their own, without waiting any conscious command from you, the heat in your belly hitting you with the force of a thunderstorm. "I know you crave me as much as I crave you."
Thick fingers parted your folds, ravenously ravaging your dripping cunt. As much as you tried, you were unable to suppress the lewd moan, clawing through you as Sihtric pushed one finger inside you. 
"God, forgive me," you panted breathlessly, your fingers entwining in Sihtric's hair, pulling firmly, as you shamelessly rolled your hips into his hand. "More... I need you. Please, give me more," you pleaded into Sihtric's ear. With a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes, he obliged, adding another digit and starting to pump them in and out of your tightness, his thumb brushing against your sensitive bundle of nerves..
“Such a needy little girl. Missed me so much,” Sihtric’s breath was picking up, a low groan reverberating in his throat, as you clenched around his fingers. “Let it go, my little bird. My sweet, beautiful girl. Give it to me. I want to see you flying again, I want to hear you calling my name.” 
And you did as you were told, not that you had any choice, you were already crumbling, falling apart, your eyes rolling back in your head, his power over you beyond your comprehension, as you had never felt anything like this before. Breath catching, you dug your fingers into the thick leather covering Sihtric’s shoulders, whimpering his name between panting breaths.
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It had been only a week since the handsome Dane, strength and danger emanating from his every pore, had evaded your secluded life, turning it upside down in the blink of an eye. 
The looming threat of war hung heavy in the air. A large army of Danes was gathering at the borders of Mercia. The word had been spread that Lady Aethelflaed was rallying forces to defend the kingdom from the impending Danish invasion. The prospects appeared grim, with Lord Aethelred and his household troops delayed in East Anglia. Your husband, wary of sending his men to certain death, as he repeatedly voiced, preferred to await the outcome from the shadows. 
The choice was taken from him one rainy day with Lady Aethelflaed at his doorsteps, demanding lodging for herself and her war council, the scarce army setting up a camp in the nearby field.
As the lady of the house, you stood in the yard, welcoming esteemed guests and trying to offset your husband's stern demeanour with a warm smile. You courtseyed Lady Aethelflaed and greeted Lord Aldhelm, and Lord Uhtred, as introduced by the Lady. Your attention then shifted to the three other men dismounting their horses, and it was then that you saw him for the first time.
Tall, athletic, with broad shoulders and muscular arms, he stood in stark contrast to your husband and any other man you had encountered, not that you had encountered many.  
You couldn't help but stare at him, feeling a blush creeping onto your cheeks and a slight shiver down your spine, as your eyes scanned his handsome sharply defined face with a strong jawline, involuntary stopping at his crazy haircut - dark curls cascaded to his right eye, while the other side of the head was shaved with beads and pearls woven into the hairline. 
He casually handed the reins to a stable boy and joined his companions, his hearty laughter momentarily distracting you from the solemn reason for their presence in your husband’s estate.
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Sihtric’s lips crushed against your parted ones, eagerly swallowing your moans and whines, his kiss searingly hot, as he kept fucking you with his fingers through your high. 
"We must stop this, Sihtric. It's not right. It's a sin," you whimpered, your chest rising and falling heavily. Yet your hands spoke a different language, clutching onto him, drawing him nearer, a soft whine escaping your lips as Sihtric withdrew his fingers.
"Tell me to stop, and I will. Say you are happy in your gilded cage, that you don’t love me, don’t desire me, and I'll disappear from your life forever," Sihtric's forehead pressed against yours, his hands on your waist. Was he holding his breath?
Your teeth grazed your lower lip as you reached out, tracing your fingers along the scars on his face. How could you deny what was so obvious?
"I love you," you breathed, drawing him into another kiss, allowing the fervour of his eager lips to carry you away from this place, from the mundanity of your existence, into another world where you were free to choose your own path, where you were free to love and be loved, if only for this fleeting moment of happiness.
“I want you to be mine,” Sihtric groaned against your mouth, “I want you to come with me, to leave this place and that old coot you call your husband. I’ll provide for you, care for you,  worship the ground you walk on.” His covetous hands roamed your body, words flowing from his lips like a sweet wine, dizzying and inebriating. 
He lifted you effortlessly in his strong arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the table at the back of the room and settled you onto it, hastily pulling your undergarment down your legs.
"The mere thought of him touching you, makes my blood run cold," he hissed, positioning himself between your thighs. "You are mine. Do you hear me? Mine to claim, mine to cherish, mine to love. I need you like I need air to breathe. You cannot deny me."
You licked your lips as you watched him freeing his hard cock from his breeches, giving it a few strokes and aligning himself with your entrance.
“Come to me, claim me,” you purred, your eyes half lid as you reached out for him.
The force with which Sihtric sinked into you made you whine out loud, your nails digging into his shoulders for support. With a throaty moan he sheathed himself to the very end of his shaft, his lips on your neck, arm around your waist to hold you in place, and started thrusting into you with a maddening pace. 
“Say it again,” he demanded, voice low and hoarse, his hips moving against yours, forcing himself deeper and deeper with each thrust, “I need to hear it.”
“I love you,“ you whimpered between your panting breaths.
“Say that you are mine.”
"I'm yours," you mewled, clinging to him as if your life depended on it. Lost in the throes of pleasure, you would have said anything he desired without a second thought. Yet, it was not a lie, in this fleeting moment you were indeed his, wholly and willingly.
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You were but a girl, tightly gripping your mother's hand, your curious gaze fixed upon the stranger seated at the table with your father.  You had no idea that this was the moment your future was decided, sealed with a simple handshake.
Your father had meant well, eager to secure a husband and livelihood for his youngest daughter. Grateful, as a dutiful daughter ought to be, you accepted his decision. Five years later, just after your first bleeding, you found yourself murmuring prayers outside the church, pondering what your husband might be like.
The slight silver glinting in his hair and the wrinkles etched around his eyes went unnoticed by you as you placed your hand in his, obediently casting your eyes downward—a dutiful daughter transforming into a dutiful wife.
Apart from the vows exchanged at the altar, he hadn't truly spoken to you; instead, he observed you with the detached gaze of a horse trader appraising a fine mare. It was only later in the night as your new wed husband grunted in your ear, slapping his hips at your bare ass from behind, that you wondered whether this was how love was supposed to feel. 
He wasn't cruel, nor was he kind. He simply possessed you. Your life flowed on like a tranquil river—no hidden currents, no waterfalls, not even the playful splash of waves against a rocky shore. There was no affection, only indifference and emptiness. But you had nothing to compare to, you couldn’t even tell why those hot tears trailed down your cheeks in the evenings as you curled up in your bed, watching your husband tug himself back in his breeches and depart without a backward glance. 
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"I'm yours. I'll always be yours," the words flowed effortlessly from your lips, not daring to think, not daring to tear your eyes away from the mismatched gaze, burning you, consuming you. The throaty groan they coaxed from Sihtric made a smile curl on your parted lips and you rolled your hips against him, meeting his thrusts with eagerness matching his.
The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the small room, your moans mingling with Sihtric’s panting breaths. His hand slipped between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing against it. You bit your lip trying at least to somewhat muffle the cries of pleasure pulsing through you.
“My greedy princess, my little caged bird, taking my cock so well,” Sihtric breathed in your ear. “So fucking tight around me. You are made for my cock, you are made for me. Made to be fucked into oblivion every night, to be filled up with my seed, to carry my children.”
You had never been loved like this. In truth, you had never really been loved at all. You were starving and you were lost from that very first moment your eyes locked with his piercing gaze.
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You attempted to evade him, striving to stifle the tempest of emotions raging within you. Your knees throbbed from hours of prayer, beseeching salvation from the sinful yearning he ignited, yet your pleas remained unheard. 
In the evening, despite your efforts, your eyes kept seeking out his familiar figure in the grand hall, torn between dread and longing for your gazes to meet.
And meet they did. Initially, fleetingly, causing your cheeks to flush pink once more, just like the first time in the yard. Hastily, you averted your eyes, diverting yourself with meaningless conversations. Yet, as the evening unfolded, it happened repeatedly—the moments your gazes lingered on each other lengthening with each time.
You lacked the strength to turn him away when he found you later that night, seated in the small garden, seeking solace in the cool night air to banish thoughts of the handsome stranger from your mind. Your resolve crumbled as he tenderly kissed your palm, drawing you closer against his muscular frame. The touch of Sihtric's lips upon yours left you breathless and trembling, excitement coursing through your veins, torn between the desire to flee and the urge to surrender to his embrace.
That night you actually made love for the first time in your life, hot tears streaming down your cheeks as you whispered his name into the darkness like a fervent prayer.
Never could you have imagined that this would evolve into something more than just a single night of passion and regret yet here you were struggling for breath, the most sinful sensation ripping you apart, as Sihtric was fucking you senseless, again. 
You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your lips to his, moaning into Sihtric’s mouth, as your walls started clenching around him and you came on his cock, your head snapping back, his name rolling over your lips and mingling with the wild moans of pleasure you were unable to control. A few thrusts later he followed you, groaning in the crook of your neck as he spilled deep inside you.
"I love you, my little caged bird. I love you, and I'll come for you, take you with me," Sihtric breathed heavily, pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes searching, pleading for agreement.
"Sihtric, you know it's impossible," you whispered, holding onto him tightly, wishing to prolong this moment just a little longer.
"I don't care about your husband. He doesn't deserve you. He treats you like you're a piece of furniture. He shows more affection to his horse than to you," venom dripped from Sihtric's voice. Though everything he said was true, it didn't change anything.
"Stop it!" you cried out, tears welling up in your eyes. "Stop it," you pleaded, your voice breaking into soft sobs. "If you truly care for me, then stop. It will be hard enough to see you leave for battle tomorrow."
"I will come back," there was not a hint of doubt in his voice as his lips sealed his promise with a tender kiss.
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The Elevated TOW System (ETS), basically a M901 ITOW launcher on an elevated mast that extends up to 6.5 meters. Saw Danish Army trials in the 1990s.
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vamp-bites · 3 months
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Happy Icelandic day of independence🇮🇸🇮🇸🇮🇸🇮🇸🇮🇸🇮🇸🇮🇸🇮🇸🇮🇸🇮🇸🇮🇸🇮🇸 fuck you denmark♡
Fun iceland facts of the day:
The 17th of June is celebrated as our day of independence but we actually fully officially got independence on the 1st of december
We celebrate the 17th because its the birthday of the guy who was out in Denmark in 1944 and was like "hey guys, hear me out, what if you let iceland rule itself? We've kinda been asking for years and you're kinda under nazi occupation right now so they're doing their own stuff over there anyway cause you can't really intervene cause of the. The nazis."
I dont know why we celebrate his birthday. He didn't even fucking live here, he moved to Denmark when he was young and never came back, false idol that he is (Jón Sigurðsson)
Iceland was originally under Norway (thats where we came from, mostly) but then Denmark claimed us in the divorce (they invaded Norway in 1537 and turned it into a Danish puppet-state)
Iceland is bigger than Denmark in land mass but wayyy smaller in population and no one is happy about this
Why is our population so low? Why do we all live around the shores and not in the middle of the land? Well, you see, like 90% of this country is uninhabitable. It is just mountains and glaciers and ravines and black sands and fields of nothing out there. Only 2% of the country is forested, and most of it is imported
We do not have an army. And yet we have been in a war. The Cod Wars. A small Icelandic fishing boat rammed itself into the side of a huge British ship fishing in our waters. The brits got really offended because the giant hole we made in their ship knocked over a picture of the queen. America had to intervene so we wouldn't keep sending our tiny but fast fishing boats headfirst into British ships fit for war. In our defense, our pride and our fish were on the line
Pretty much all Icelanders are at least bilingual, tho they try to make us trilingual but very few of us actually retain any of the Danish they try to teach us at school, Icelandic preteens notoriously hate Danish (or maybe that was just me)
We make ourselves out to have descended from great vikings, its basically our whole brand besides puffins who aren't even our national bird we just love to show off our puffin population, but we actually weren't really vikings, we came mostly from farmers
Half of the country is located in the American continent, and the other half is in Europe, there's a mall out in the country that has a line down the middle of it because that's where the line between the continents splits and u can walk between America and Europe
We had the worlds first female president (Vigdís Finnbogadóttir🇮🇸🇮🇸🇮🇸🇮🇸)
Despite our low crime rates, we have an unusually high crime fiction writer rate
I'll leave the fun facts about the phallus museum and the likes for next time, gleðilegan 17. júní góða fólk!
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ifindus · 7 months
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The Battle of Hjørungavåg - for the Mythtalia March by @hwsevents
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"Never have Danes held such a battle with Norwegians, not before nor since" - Fagrskinna.
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The battle of Hjørungavåg took place outside the Norwegian coast in the year 986, and was a sea battle between an invading Danish army and a defending Norwegian one. It was a battle of great national significance as the ruling Earl Håkon defended the country against the Danish King Svein Tjugeskjegg aided by the Joms Vikings, who wanted to take control over Norway and christen it.
The battle begun after some farmers tricked the Danes into believeing Earl Håkon only had 2-3 ships with him. They charged forth and got surprised by 50 ships lying in wait for them.
It was a fierce battle, and despite the element of surprise, the Norwegians suffered heavy losses early on. Most of the losses were with Earl Håkon, who fought against Svein Tjugeskjegg, a fight so intense that he had to shed his chainmail as it had become torn apart by all the weapons hitting him. Håkon's sons Eirik and Svein Håkonson fought against the Joms Vikings, Eirik saving his brother. This is when the battle turns.
Suddenly, a terrifying storm hits, with fierce waves of hail. The storm seemed almost magic and supernatural, and on the side of the Norwegians. Had the pagans used dark magic? It is said that Earl Håkon had sacrificed his 7 year old son Erling in a ritual for victory (probably false). The Earls of Lade had a connection to the female godess and spirit Torgerd Hølgebrud, who was called on whenever the family was in need. She came along with her sister and other valkyries on horses with bows and arrows, sending hail towards their enemies.
Torgerd is interpreted as an ancient fertility spirit, and these spirits are also connected with a warrior aspect. They protected certain families and are some of the oldest creatures in the pre-Christian Norse religion.
The supernatural warrior spirits was a convenient excuse for why Svein Tjugeskjegg fled the battle; it was impossible to fight against gods and trolls. It also supported the savage ways of the pagan religion.
As Svein flees, he leaves the Joms Vikings behind to be captured by the Earls. They were about to be executed by beheading, but one of them managed to get a hold of the sword and chop the head off the man about to kill him. Eirik Håkonson is impressed by this and grants them their freedom.
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