The Power of Concealment
I currently live in a small country town in Australia. As in any rural area, police response times are garbage, so you need to be self-sufficient. But what if your government has made it hard for you to legally own firearms?
My neighbor is an Aussie farmer with three kids. We’re close with them, so they come over all the time riding their BMXs on an improvised track I scraped out for them.
I would never use an actual pic of them online, so forgive the AI.
@Natalie_Anaru loves them; she bakes them their weight in muffins and gets clucky whenever they’re around.
Their father is a good guy. Like a REALLY good guy. He’s one of those country boys who will do anything for anyone, and as a result, I suspect people take advantage of him.
He’s a professional hunter, so he has firearms, but he’s away from home for days at a time on jobs. He knows that he can rely on me if anything happens while he’s away, but I need to travel for work myself.
The danger in rural Australia isn’t gangs; it’s random (thankfully very rare) mass shootings, normally by an estranged family member. My neighbor has a few family members in town who he’s on really poor terms with, and I’ve known for a while it’s an issue for him.
We were discussing it during a particularly productive beer conference on my porch a few weeks ago when I came up with a cunning plan. At dusk, I got the kids to come over wearing whatever ragtag camo gear they had (not much at that stage) and proceeded to take them through the basics of concealment.
The youngest boy and the girl were nervous about the dark, but after I took them out and sat down with them and their eyes began to adjust, I explained that the dark is your friend. It will hide you from any bad people who might want to find you.
Keeping the language really basic, I explained how to use natural foliage, dust (when it’s dry) and mud (when it’s not), rocks, shrubs, and the natural rise and fall of the terrain to break up their silhouettes and match the surrounding natural texture.
So they had one minute to hide out of my line of sight, then I’d hunt them.
The first attempts were hilarious but encouraging… they definitely had some of their dad’s genetic memory.
But the cackling and the shouting had to go, so the next afternoon, covered in sweat from riding all morning and eating Nat’s brownies, we moved on to light and noise discipline.
We started with (VERY basic) hand gestures. Halt, freeze, danger, double-time… you know, just the applicable stuff. They’re young. Practicing that produced a lot of gibberish and giggling. Which is good. We like morale.
They learned not to carry anything that makes a noise when moving, and to move slowly (mind where your feet go; sweep twigs and small branches aside with your toe) unless you’re in an open area with no concealment and/or there’s no other option.
If someone sees you and gives chase, run, use slip tricks (I showed them a couple), and keep going until the line of sight has been broken for at least a full minute, then drop and conceal. If it’s daylight, reflective things go in your pockets.
They also learned how to safely cross obstacles (like barbed-wire fences, which are everywhere around here) and leave minimal physical traces of passage through an area where there’s no ground cover.
Day three, I’m changing my wiper fluid and guess how many of the town kids turn up. I’ve gone from a fire team to a platoon. I knew all their parents, so it’s not like I could say no. So the Junior Q Course started all over again.
That was about a month ago when it was still fairly cold. Now it’s warming up, and I’ll walk out to my barn and routinely find two or three of the older kids (early teens) using my gym equipment, and “camouflage” is apparently the hottest game in town.
They’ve nagged their parents to buy them Multicams (the Aussie version, which is better for this terrain), and some of them look like miniature operators.
They’re crazy good at concealment now, and it’s only been a short time. There’s no more laughing, no chatter, no breaking noise discipline.
One ten-year-old from a particularly poor home (housing commission, they call it here) shows real imagination and promise. When he arrived at my place on his mountain bike, he leaned it up against a wall near a tarp that I had left on the ground.
I gave them their minute, and in that time he pushed the bike aside, laid the tarp out, pulled the bike back into place, wriggled between it and the wall, and covered himself with the tarp overlap. Perfect pattern breakup, and I eventually needed to concede. I couldn’t find him.
I didn’t tell him to do that; he came up with it himself.
It occurred to me today that this is something simple that we all can and should be doing for our kids and/or other kids in the community, provided their parents are okay with it. I now know that if needed, a ton of kids in town will make it extremely hard for any would-be abductor to grab them, and that’s a source of real satisfaction for me.
We don’t know what the future will hold, and this is something that kids can learn quickly and get good at rapidly.