Slow Motion……and counting

Qualifying day.  I was part of the seven candidates who made up the first string of shooters while the others huddled in the woods for their turn.  Unlike practice, qualifying goes by pretty fast. The script was simple, ten shots each in the standing, crouching, kneeling and prone positions for a total of 40.  By the way, did I mention we had only fired five shots in each of the kneeling and prone positions before today?  There was to be no breaks in between shooting positions to inspect the target or help from the instructors. All you needed was 24 in the black. 

There was a palpable sense of dread for a few of us. We were given instructions, but I was clearing my head trying to find my happy place, but all that kept whirring in my head was Billy Idol’s “Dancing With Myself”.  I’m doomed.   “Shooters, move to the line, put on your protective eyewear and hearing protection, and then proceed to load your first 10 round magazine.  When ready, commence firing.”  This was it.  I removed my glasses and put on the clear eye protectors.  A quick look down range verified that indeed my paper victim was a blurry black mess, but my sights were clear.  I must have stopped my ballet every second shot to reset as things weren’t quite right.  Breath in, raise the gun, align the sights as you exhale, when the breathing stops, hold, and squeeze….. It was all so slow and surreal.  Billy Idol had left my head, only to be replaced by the sounds of my heart thumping.  In between positions, I stopped to relax, then on again. 

Finally, it was over.  I safed the weapon, collected my brass and waited behind the line for everyone else to finish.  It was hot, but my sweat-covered shirts was from the stress.  “Shooters, you may now proceed to the target zone to inspect the results with your instructors.”  This was the slowest walk ever. 

 With Sharpie in hand, the instructor began to highlight the holes, as we both counted (this was official you know), one…two….three….. When he got to twenty, and there were still a lot more holes in the black, I stepped back and began waiving my arms.  I didn’t want to yell, as maybe my fellow teammates may not have done as well.  But there it was; 34 of 40 shots in the Black.  My gamble paid off.  Classmates in the woods, who knew of my gamble were cheering. 

The monkey was off my back but remained for three others.  Two of them later qualified as well.  Now back to learning how to be an advisor.