14 April 2009
I had never touched a gun in my life before my first deployment. This admission worried my PSD (personal security detail) guys greatly so one day Rob (one of the team leads) volunteered to take me to the range. My roommate at the time, Cynthia, and I loaded up into an armored vehicle with the Gurkhas (the guards for our living and work compound – which was already inside a secure military compound) and Rob (a Brit) and headed to the nearby shooting range. Targets were set up,
weapons laid out (for those curious these are not all standard issued military weapons –some may have been acquired from weapons caches found while in country, you know the nonexistent “weapons of mass destruction” ),
bulky gear removed (except for those rule following military men who kept all safety gear on),
safety gear in place (note the ear plugs and proper eyewear),
a trial run or two by the Gurkhas,
and then instruction for Cynthia and I on how to properly handle and shoot several different weapons.
Rob, bless his heart, was very patient with us throughout the entire ordeal. I was terrible. Not only was I scared of the various weapons (as you can tell from my expression)
I was downright bad. I am sure my form is off as well.
At least I was able to gain a basic knowledge of how to fire the weapon in case the s**t hit the fan. Lord help us all that it never did! We did have fun with the whole situation as you can tell from the laughter that erupted after several shots fired.
Charlie’s Angels we are not!