Rifle Qualifications - Natural Familiarization

"It's just like paintball",the young lance corporal yelled. "Walk your trigger-finger along as quick as you can. This is just to get you familiar to leaning into the weapon and firing rapidly."

My Squad stood at the firing line listened to the coach through our neon ear plugs. I turned my head from him to down range toward the human paper target just 25 yards away. I took a deep breath and felt my rib cage constricted slightly by the bullet proof vest. My helmet rested snuggled on my head, enough to let sweat drip from the band within and down the side of my black sunglasses. The butt-stock of the rifle rested in my shoulder with the muzzle pointed to the ground. I shifted back and forth on my feet, waiting for the coach to come to me.

I watched the Lt. next to me fire his 24 bullets in three round bursts. The recoil pushed him back with every pull of the trigger, causing him to have to reset in between each shot. The coach stood behind him with a hand outward toward his back, making sure that he didn't loose control.

Once he finished, the coach walked over to me.

"Ok sir, remember, just like paintball." He said.

My thumb moved the safety switch from 'safe', past 'semi', to 'three round burst'. I brought my weapon up to the ready and looked down the sights. I pulled the trigger once.

B-B-BANG

I stopped and smiled. The mere thrill of the weapon pushing me back and the loud succession of bangs is almost hard to describe. Even now, the only word that I can express for it was...


Fun.

Just like paintball, I thought. My mind reverted to what i would do when I used to play paintball. When I would see someone exposed or in the open, just as the target in front of me was, what would i do and think?

Light that mother fucker up

I leaned forward and sighted in. I could feel my heart rate quicken as images from past paintball experiences filled my memory. I rapidly squeezed the trigger.

Brass ejected from the side of the M16 in a steady stream. There was no break in the succession of shots, as if the weapon suddenly went automatic. My body leaned forward into every shot and remained surprisingly steady despite the immense amount of recoil. The Magazine went empty finally, and i had to step forward to catch myself from falling. Smoke creeped out of the empty camber over my hands and filled my sense. An aggression and power-hunger unlike any other overwhelmed me. I wanted more.

"Excellent!" said the corporal behind me. "That was perfect! Go ahead and stand by. Once everyone is done and we will get up there and look at your shots."

Once the marines at the station in the middle of the firing line announce the line was clear, we walked up to our targets.


I walked up and looked at the paper silhouette:

Whereas most of the targets that other Lt.s shot was sporadic, half not hitting the target, most if not a majority of the shots I had hit the target dead center.




Guess playing paintball had it's uses during college and high school.


And you can imagine what my target looked like when I actually took the time to aim when on semi.



Kicking ass and taking names. Thanks for reading. :-)