Hitting the Broadside of a Barn (or not)

I have a whole new appreciation for hunters, snipers, criminals, and even the Mariska Hargitay character from Law & Order.  They all make it look so easy - you just whip out the pistol and BAM! the bad guy is dead.   Its not that easy.  Definitely not that easy.

JAOBC Class 182 spent last Sunday on the firing range.  We had 7,000 live rounds and couldn't leave until every single one of them was used.  (The men were much more excited about that than the women).  Yes, 114 lawyers, who have a tendency to talk with their hands, were given loaded weapons and told to fire them all day.  This could be a Saturday Night Live skit, for crying out loud.

The cadre were definitely very focused on our safety.  We must have gone through the "two most important rules of the range" a gajillion times:  (i) NEVER point the weapon at anything you are not willing to kill or maim; and (ii) believe that EVERY weapon is loaded, ALL the time.   Got it.

Most of the class went through Preliminary Marksmanship Instruction ("PMI"), and had lengthy opportunities to fire in the simulator the day before.  Unfortunately, two days in a row, time ran out before my squad made it to either the PMI or the simulator.   About 10 minutes before they sent me up to the firing line, the PMI instructor gave my squad a quick demonstration of how to find  your dominant eye, line up the sights, put the safety on, pop the cartridge in, and how to pull the trigger.  That was it.  Holy crap!  I was TERRIFIED!!!  I was considering telling one of the cadre that I didn't feel ready and needed more instruction, but then I saw that each firing lane had its own range safety officer, who would be standing right by my side, so I sucked it up, picked up my ammunition, and headed up to my lane.  I immediately informed my safety officer that I was TERRIFIED and didn't have a freaking clue what I was doing.  He (a classmate with prior military experience) was awesome - he talked me through every step and really calmed me down.  I never thought I had small hands until I tried to hold an M9 properly and reach the trigger with enough finger to actually pull it.  Wow - really awkward.  Then BAM! it fired, and the recoil damn near knocked me over (pretty sure that would have been a range safety violation!!).  After firing the first 15 rounds, the safety officer asked if I was feeling OK, because apparently I was "sweatin hotter than a pig in pepper patch"  (yes, he really did say that .... in a long Georgia drawl).  NO I'M NOT OK.....I HAVE A LOADED FREAKING PISTOL IN MY HAND!!!!!!!  (I don't think I actually said that part out loud, though .... at least I hope I didn't!).  After firing 30 rounds, I was done and finally allowed to put the weapon down.  My safety officer told me I hit 3 of the targets, but I don't believe him.  (Did I mention the targets were these giant bright green Michelin-men?)

After I exited the line, I made a bee-line for the Major who had taught the PMI classes and told him I needed  a LOT more help.  He was fantastic - he spent about 30 minutes with me giving me all sorts of pointers about my stance, lining up the sites, positioning my hands, etc.  After that I felt completely ready for my second turn on the line.

I was hoping that sometime between my first turn and my second turn, they would have replaced the green Michelin-men with giant red barns (the broadside preferably), all positioned less than 10 yards away.  Alas, the stupid green men were still there mocking me from 25 yards.   I don't think I hit any of them, but I also didn't sweat "like a pig in a pepper patch" or have to bite through my lip to keep from bursting into tears.  That, my friends, is significant improvement!!

The day ended with range clean up.  Apparently, live rounds are inventoried, and you have to turn in the same amount of shells as the live rounds you signed out. (Or at least that's what cadre told us to motivate us to clean the range).  We formed police lines and scoured every millimeter of that range, picking up the discarded shells (a/k/a/ "brass").  We were even frisked before we could get on the bus to make sure nobody was trying to take their own little range souvenir!

The good news about the Range Day was that we were done and released by 3 pm, which meant I could go visit Doug & the pups for the first time in a week.  Doug was very amused by my stories of my first day on the range, and suggested that maybe next time I should just "pick up the bullets and throw them at the targets".  I suggested that he just get me another beer.  :)