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I lay in the pebbles as they dug into my elbows. The butt of my M4 snuggled up against my bicep, I knew that I would have a bruise there by the end of today. The barrel of my weapon sat on top of my hand on the sand bags in front of me. With one finger I prepared to pull the trigger, I waited for the command from the tower. “You may fire as soon as the targets go down,” I heard the tower say, and I watched down range as the targets fell down and the fifty foot target go up, I aimed the barrel and pulled the trigger like a mother would cradle her baby. s**t! I forgot to steady my breathing, I would have thought that after seven weeks of firing my weapon I would remember to watch my breathing. But I had no time to reprimand myself. The next target was already up, this time I held my breath and fired. I watched the dirt cloud behind the target as it fell backward.
Yes, I hit one, now I had to move on to the next one. I missed, but I told myself to stay calm and remember my four fundamentals. I missed the next target but hit the one after that. I felt pretty good, until I fired my last round and missed. I knew then that I did not qualify, but I hoped that I had at least improved from last time. I walked off the range and dropped off my empty magazines in the buckets. I cleared my weapon at the clearing barrel, and I lined up with the others from my firing order. I was worried, the butterflies in my stomach threatened to burst out. I had been on point three, so it was not long before my First Sergeant stood in front of me, “Whats your name?”
“Chadwick, First Sergeant,” I did not even look at him, instead I looked at his rank.
He looked down at the paper in his hands, “I have a question for you,” he spoke slowly as he looked at his paper, “Was it you or your Weapon?”
I don't remember what happened after that, I want to say that I answered him before running away sobbing my lungs out. I want to say that I managed to actually talk to him, I want to say that I looked him in the face as I explained what happened, but honestly, I can't remember anything but the feeling of all my walls and defenses crumbling as I sobbed. I broke down completely in front of everyone, in front of my DS who I had come to respect. It was DS Woods who called a battle buddy over twice to comfort me. After the first time, DS Lazodo called me over and told me dry my eyes because I would not be able to shoot if I was crying. Then a minute later I was told I would not be able to fire again and to get out of there, I cried even worse then before. I remember that it was Private Rae who comforted me even though Rae was doubled over in pain. Rae was sick and no matter how many drugs they pumped into her, she still felt the pain. And she still comforted me, a sobbing mess.
To this day I cannot thank her enough, for the fact that she put, her pain aside to comfort me when I was in emotional pain. She hugged me and told me that this was all part of Gods plan, but it was during this time that I had stopped believing in God. I clung to her as long as I could, until I had to leave. I have to thank Private Coleman, and Private Rae for getting me through that night until I could find my legs again. I cried the rest of the night, as soon as I though I was okay, I would start crying again. If those two had not been there for me, I would not have finished my second ten weeks.
- by ugly_Duckling_17 |
- Non Fiction
- | Submitted on 01/01/2012 |
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- Title: Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, Private
- Artist: ugly_Duckling_17
- Description: This is about my failed attempt to qualify with my weapon during Basic.
- Date: 01/01/2012
- Tags: whiskey tango foxtrot private
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Comments (1 Comments)
- ugly_Duckling_17 - 01/01/2012
- Uh, awful, i don't think i managed to convey how i actually felt at that point. i should have done better
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