After crossing the gates of the Polish Army Museum, everything looked innocent. A few exhibits, a bit of history, and the promise of a peaceful walk. Reality, however, turned out to be much more demanding—especially for the camera, which got winded faster than the visitors. The first target was the massive cannons. It was hard to resist the temptation to check what the world looks like from a commander’s perspective. The result? A head sticking out of the hatch looked as if the tank was trying to spit out a commuter who had confused the museum with public transit. The next challenge was the ammo. A gigantic artillery shell turned out to be the perfect photo partner. It’s the kind of companion who doesn’t talk, doesn’t blink, and doesn’t complain about posing for photos. But it perfectly reminds you that in the old days, arguments were of a much heavier caliber. Outside waited a cannon of a size suggesting that its designer clearly didn’t believe in compromises. Standing next to it effectively made you realize that, next to such equipment, a person looks more like an accessory to the exhibit than a full-fledged visitor.
In the small arms room, you could get the impression that every subsequent rifle was a little bit longer than the previous one. After a few minutes of browsing, you’d start wondering if there wasn’t a fishing rod or a pole vault pole standing at the end of the row. Maybe someone just forgot to change the sign.
Walking among the exhibits proved one thing—old-school designers had an exceptional talent for building everything in “XXL”. The barrels were huge, the shells impressive, and the cannons looked like they could shift national borders with just a glare.
