As kids, we were all pretty good with wristrockets. We’d even lob M-8o’s.
When I was a kid in Japan, I accidentally lit a grass field on fire across the street from our house that was a playground.
I had gone off base and bought some smoke bombs. You know, the ones that are about the diameter of a quarter, colored red, green, blue and yellow with that fuze that made it look like one of those old-fashioned bombs?
Well, I found I could light them and had enough time to get them in the slingshot and fire a smoky contrail through the sky.
Well, I did a few, and then with horror, I realized that the area where one landed was some really dry grass, and it went right up because the smoke bomb still had sparks coming out of it when it landed.
Fire trucks came, and fortunately, the only damage was a large area of scorched grass.
Heh, my best friend at the time (Peter Aubrey, whose father was the Captain of the USS Providence at the time) told me that if he had been caught doing something like that, his dad would have hit him with his ‘Shillelagh’!
I had no idea what that was, so he took me into his dad’s closet, and pulled out what looked a tree limb with a huge twisted, varnished knotted tangle of wood at the top.