In afghanistan we recovered a dishka that was so fucked it was unbelievable. It had a tripod made from welded rebar, and could only be fired single shot by inserting a round into the chamber, then using the charging handle to slamfire. It was also covered in bits of charred cloth, blood, and burned skin from the two retards who got hellfire fucked while trying to use it to fire on our convoys.
We tossed it into the pile of mangled mopeds, toyota corollas, and assorted other wreckage we’d recovered after killing similar taliban fighters that we kept in front of our FOB as a trophy pile/warning to others. We referred to this trophy collection as “The Death Pile” until some high brass visited our FOB and were disgusted by the gore encrusted pile of wreckage and forced us to use a bulldozer to bury it and stop that shit.