Rifle Qualifications - The Range

A golf course/ Driving range

That was the first thing I thought when our platoon emerge from the woods and onto the rifle range. The grass was freshly cut. Little white and black markers with numbers from 1 to 50 lined every 100 yards or so like tee's. A large red flag slowly flapping in the morning wind by the left end of the field like a pin on the 18th hole. The obvious difference between a golf course and here was all the marines with the smoky-bear hats, and the fact that there were 300 marines with M16-A4 rifles.... and it's on a military base... ok its not that similar.

We started to walk from the back of the field down to the 36 yard line, and I could not help but think, "How fitting would a golf cart be right now?", as walking 3 miles from base to here already had my feet fresh with blisters. My mind went from being in the clouds to on the ground very quickly as the NCO's gave us a safety brief then handed us live rounds to fill our magazines with.

We lined up on the 36 yard line for our first firing revolution to test the elevation on our rifles. We went in alphabetical order. I landed on the number 18 lane and took my position in the prone (lying down on stomach) in the worn away ground in the grass. There were divots where other lieutenants have placed their elbows and knees. I looked around; just a few clouds in the sky, quiet as all could be. No birds chirped as the sun came out. Only the sound of commands from the coaches, and the snapping of magazine as all of us loaded rounds into the silver magazines.

The coaches and NCO's placed small little pieces of paper on a cardboard target with even smaller black targets. Hitting a target the size of an golf ball from 36 yards in the prone should be easy to hit... right?

Then, from the rusty speakers, a voice similar to an announcer of a baseball game over a 1950's speaker said With a magazine of 5 rounds, LOAD

I took the magazine out of my pouch on my belt, hit the end of it on my leg to knock all the rounds back against the magazine, and inserted it into the magazine well of the black assault rifle.

Maaaaaaaake ready

I pulled the charging handle of the weapon back and watched the bolt slingshot the round into the chamber. The "Click-click" of fifty other weapons made the same sound down the line. I got into the position that they taught me and gripped the handles of the rifle.

Lieutenants, fire 5 round, ONLY FIVE ROUNDS, at the center target to get your BZO. You may fire... now

Just then, my mind flashed to the last time I discharged a fire arm. I have only used fire arms twice in my life; once with my father and brother on a skeet shooting range with shot guns when i was 19. The second, using hand guns at a local range with a friend when I was 20. This would be only the third time in my life that I had used a weapon like this. And i must say that as i started to line up the sights of the weapon, I could not help but be distracted by the circumstances that I was actually holding a weapon and about to fire it.

I lined the back sight of the weapon over the front site of the barrel. I started to squeeze the trigger slowly without disturbing my aim...

An explosion. A simultaneous pop of the round accompanied by the compression of a spring in the butt stock of the weapon filled my ears despite the ear plugs i had in. Gun powered filled my nostril's from the smell and partially filled my eye's as the small cloud was ejected from the ejection port cover. My sights disturbed from the recoil,i tried to re-sight in and see if I hit the target. But i couldn't see it.

I fired the rest of my rounds, and after each 5 the coaches went to the boards to analyze the groupings. A corporal with a smoky-bear hat walked up to my target, put his hands on his hips and walked slowly back to me.

"Here," he said, "adjust your sights about 12 down." He said. I made the necessary adjustments, then fired the next 5 rounds at the target on the left of the paper. He went up, put his hands on his hips and shook his head. That can't be good.

"Hmmm, you didn't hit the paper." he said. "Go ahead and adjust your front sight post down 7." He said, then walked to the next marine next to me.

I got out my small tool and started to turn the sight post. 'Was it to the left or right that was down?' I thought. I couldn't remember. I was too thrown off that I missed 10 shots from the prone at 36 yards away. This can not be happening.

Another 5 shots. He went up and came back again.

"Let me see your weapon." He said. He looked at the front sight post and did his own adjustments. "Ok sir, we are going to have to have you shoot again. Go ahead and report to the Staff Sergeant over there." He pointed to another NCO up range. Only 3 others were standing there who had to re-shoot... out of 300.

Great, Just great I thought cursing to myself If I can't hit a target from that short a distance, how the hell am I going to be able to hit a target from 500 yards away in the same position? Way to make yourself stand out amongst the whole company

The Staff Sergeant looked over my weapon when I came up to him and handed him my un-touched target.

"Which way did you turn the front sight post?" he asked.
"counter clock wise." I said
"Well no wonder you missed the damn thing, you were shooting well over it. You just turned it the wrong way that's all." He said. "We will get you fixed up and re-BZO you." He said encouragingly.


But the damage had been done. I already felt that a blind man could have hit the target better than me.


But that would all change for the next day.

I'll get that story to you tomorrow, but i have to get up at 0400 and i need sleep.


Thanks for reading.