Ok, I'm deployed to Southwest Asia (again). It's late September or so. The nights are cool, but bearable. There's a "Tent City" for our accommodations, and you can tell the tents have been in place for years.
The USO folk scheduled another "sports celebrity" tours, where famous/notorious sports figures come out to the deployed location to talk with fans, sigh autographs, etc. Among the guests this time was Mark Cuban, owner of the NBA's Dallas Mavericks. As his style, he shows up gregarious and ready to press the flesh.
After a day of glad-handing and photo ops, he retires to the Distinguished Visitor - DV- tent (some tents are a bit better appointed than others, go figure). This DV tent is big enough for maybe 10 troops to sleep in. For some reason, I am in the tent with Cuban and some of his hangers-on. In the center of the tent, there is a gas grille, big enough to cook lots of meat. The propane tank isn't hooked up yet, but Cuban goes to set things up. He's talking big all the while, befitting a man used to being the center of attention.
As I watch him turn the collar that fastens the tank to the grille's hose, I hear a hiss. A hiss as if the collar isn't completely seated. For some reason, I walk out of the tent at that moment, don't know why.
As I get maybe 15 yards away, I hear a faint "BOOMF". I look over my left shoulder and see flames arc to the sky, maybe 10 or 15 feet high. Immediately, I run back to the tent, yelling "fire!" until I'm out of breath. As I get to the tent, I can feel the rasp in my throat from all the yelling. There's tons of smoke, but I can't find any bodies. Oh-by-the-way, the fire has spread to a couple of other tents...
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