Anniston, Ala.

As ironies go, this one is big and green. Weapons of destruction have helped preserve thousands of acres of rare longleaf pine here at Fort McClellan.

Longleaf not only tolerates fire, it requires fire to suppress competition from hardwoods and faster-growing pines.

Elsewhere in the Appalachians, Smokey the Bear has done a number on longleaf. But recruits training at Fort McClellan have, through shooting off guns and flares, set enough wildfires to preserve the trees and the rare plants that grow under them.

The oldest of Fort McClellan's longleaf pines predate the United States. Scientists have identified whole stands with an average age of 180 years. Definitions of 'old growth' vary, but this is as close to old growth as Southern pine gets, especially in a mountain setting.

With Fort McClellan scheduled to close in 1999, the fate of these trees is in doubt. Residential development -- posh houses with a view -- is one possibility. That would mean fire suppression and slow death to the longleaf.

Government agencies, urged on by scientists, hope to preserve the acreage for hunting, hiking, education and research. Again, the Army -- having innocently blasted away for so long-- may prove the saving grace.

'Some of the worst unexploded ordnance is lodged in that mountain range,' said Rob Richard­son, executive director of the Fort McClellan Reuse and Redevelopment Authority. 'It's the funniest thing, but man-made pollution of the environment could end up protecting the longleaf pine.'

Longleaf pine is renowned for how long it lives and how straight it grows. It's known, too, for producing outstanding lumber. The longleaf pine ecosystem, home to the red-cockaded woodpecker and other endangered critters, encompasses an amazing variety of fire-tolerant grasses and wildflowers.

Forest ecologists estimate that the South once had 90 million acres of longleaf. Now there are about 4 million acres. Most of that is in coastal plain areas such as Mobile.

Mountain longleaf, once common on dry, fire-prone slopes of the southern Appalachians, is now almost unique to the Fort McClellan acreage, and some even better stands on private lands just to the south.

Those stands cover perhaps 5,000 acres on the south and west slopes of Choccolocco Mountain. They were -- and probably still are-- too remote for cost-effective logging. And they have had just enough fire, from lightning strikes and Army mayhem.

What fire means to longleaf, Fort McClellan has meant to the Anniston economy. For decades, it has been a crucial employer and supporter of local business.

In 1995, Congress approved the recommendation of a base-closing commission that Fort McClellan (among many other military facilities) be phased out. Though the target date is 1999, Rob Richardson of the reuse authority predicts the, actual closing will be pushed back two years.

Already, there have been three main proposals for what to do with the property, featuring different mixes of industrial, commercial, residential and civic development. No decision by the reuse authority (which will most likely have the final say) is imminent.

Most of the base will definitely find a new use. Richardson does not rule out residential development of Choccolocco Mountain.

'No one has stepped forward and said, 'We're going to put housing units there, 'but it's an option we're looking at.'

As for infrastructure costs -- roads and utility lines -- Richardson acknowledges they would be expensive but not prohibitively so. He points out that fancy homes already are in place on other slopes around Anniston.

But he also says that removal of unexploded ordnance represents another major -- and perhaps prohibitive -- cost. In recent years, the Army has accidentally set fires in the longleaf with flares, tracer rounds and smoke grenades. Through World War II, the area was an artillery range.

'They used to fire into the face of Choccolocco Mountain,' said Ron Levy, environmental director at Fort McClellan.

The area is considered safe to hike and hunt in, but it is believed that a number of unexploded shells are buried there, anywhere from 1 to 30 feet down. Levy's office has done an archival search, trying to determine how much was fired and where, and is gearing up for an estimate of the cost of finding and removing the unexploded ordnance, should the decision be to develop.