OPINION
Published on May 3, 2012 By Big Fat Daddy In Misc

 

I have always had a knack with firearms.  I was not so hot with a rifle when I started out in basic training, but by the time I graduated I was hooked on a lifetime love.  I went through training with the M-14,  carried one in Vietnam, and didn't make the transition to M-16s until 1970, when I was in Germany.  I am really attached to the M-14, in fact I own one now and it doesn't take much of an excuse to get me out shooting it. 

 

I became enamored of the M-1911A1 .45 caliber pistol early in my career.  In Germany in 1964 I was supposed to carry a pistol and an M-79 grenade launcher....but there was a limited number of them in the unit and the rookies all wound up with a rifle instead.  I did have to qualify with the pistol. 

 

Over the years, I shot competitively every chance I got.  Rifle or pistol, I just loved to shoot.  In 1976 I was a retread buck sergeant and a squad leader in a truck platoon. Word got out that the battalion was going to field a team to compete in the upcoming weapons competition and volunteers were being sought.  I signed up right away.  We spent a couple of days on the range, firing both rifles and pistols.  When the teams were organized, the battalion had enough shooters with qualifying scores to field two rifle and two pistol teams.  I was assigned to a pistol team;  normally I would have been happy to be selected for pistols but the rifle team was going to be firing M-14s in the competition.   My pistol scores were among the top shooters so there it was.

 

For about a month I spent two-to-four hours a day on the range, honing my pistol skills and practicing the different positions we would be firing from.  A couple of weeks before the match, our team leader had a meeting and explained the rules of the competition.  We were going to compete in what was called a "Patton Match".  I had never heard of that before.  Here's how it worked:  The teams would line up on a starting line two miles from the range.  The shooters would be in "full field" uniform with weapons, ammo, and a twenty-five pound pack.  At the command of "Go", the teams would run to the range, go to their firing point, and immediately begin to engage targets.  We were allowed 17 minutes to make the run;  if you didn't get to the range in that window, your team was disqualified.

 

On the morning of the competition we reported to the registration point and signed in, then boarded a bus that drove us out to the area of Sandstone Ridge that was the designated starting line.  We milled around for an hour or so then the monitors lined us up by teams and got ready to start.  My team decided that we would run together in formation;  it would promote team unity and ensure that everyone got to the range on time.  "Go"...and off we went.  We maintained a steady, but not too fast pace.  It started feeling pretty hot by the time we crossed the first mile.  The gear was getting heavier, the sweat started pouring, and it was getting pretty thirsty out. 

 

The team got to the range with a little time to spare and took our firing positions.  We started firing right away.  We were shooting at man-sized targets with the traditional graded rings.  The targets were 25, 50, and 75 yards out,  on brackets that held them sideways to the firing point until the Range Officer gave the command, and then turned to face the firers.  The shooters had about seven seconds to hit them.   Some of the targets required a magazine change as part of the test.  Otherwise, it was scored like a fixed-range, 300-point match.  The running, sweating, thirst, and fatigue had an effect on weapons skills;  that was the point.  It was supposed to simulate a combat engagement.

 

The next day we went to one of the post theaters for the award ceremony.  No one had told us our score or where we had finished in the competition.  We didn't find out until the assembly.

 

The MP battalion won the match almost every year.  They had good shooters.  But our  Battalion Commander wanted to out-do the MPs that year.  That's why he allowed so many NCOs to participate.  During the presentation of awards, there was a guy a couple of rows behind me who made very realistic piggy squeals every time an MP crossed the stage to get an award.  (The MPs took a lot of the awards, too).  My team finished in third place.  The overall match championship went to the MPs, though.  I don't remember how many teams the MPs fielded, but they sure got a lot of trophies.  When they called up the MP battalion commander to receive the overall championship trophy, the squealer behind me snorted like a big hog.  The whole place cracked up especially in our area. 

 

All in all, I really enjoyed the experience.  Although the team finished third, my individual scores were good enough to be recruited by the 6th Army Marksmanship Training Unit, a team of professional shooters who traveled around the country shooting in competitions with police, clubs, and other military units.  They offered me a position right away.  My battalion commander wouldn't release me because we had some important events coming up and while we could work our butts off to earn him a trophy, he didn't want to lose the NCOs in the teams for any length of time.  But it was cool to know I made the cut, anyway.

 

I had many other opportunities to participate in competitions.   I think that I'll take a break and then spin up a story about another of my favorites.


Comments
on May 03, 2012

I never got into shooting.  I tried it some when I was younger, but I guess it really did not tickle my fancy.  Now a 2 mile job, with full packs, in the heat, and then shooting?

What are you crazy?

Congratulations on the sharpshooting!  If you love it and are good at it, there is no greater pleasure!

on May 03, 2012

Thanks, Doc.  I made a career choice that kind of required certain skill sets.  I took it as a responsibility to be good at those things I was required to do...and to add upon those skills.  If I had known about the whole program of the Patton Match I may not have volunteered for it...or maybe I would have...