Strange Coincidences

I've just started reading "Holding the Zero" by Gerald Seymour about a British sniper working in northern Iraq. The first coincidence came when, the very same day I started the book, my father sent me a cutting from an old school magazine (we went to the same school). It was a photo of him and his mates in the Combined Cadet Force shooting team competing at Bisley in 1946.

My father was a particularly good shot with the rifle and went on to shoot regularly at Bisely competitions when in the Army.  Bisely in Hampshire has become the epitome of shooting elite in the UK. Seymour makes reference to Bisley as his main character's training ground of choice.

I seem to have inherited "the eye" and although not as successful as the old man, I had my share of successes when I joined the mob managing marksman qualification a few years in a row, allowing me to wear the crossed rifles on the sleeve of my best uniform.

Now the final strange coincidence. On Saturday, the same day I received the cutting (the same day I started the book if you remember) I was wandering into Poor Park woods when I met Rob who was the gamekeeper for the woods. Rob's job went when the landowner decided no longer to rear pheasants. Happily, Rob was able to keep the Gamekeeper's cottage and still has run of the land. He and I exchange pleasantries as I pass the cottage on the way into the woods.

Rob happened to be cleaning what looked like a rifle and we naturally got into conversation about guns. I know nothing about non-military rifles so I was keen to examine what turned out to be a Ruger M77 .246 calibre (I think that's what it was - forgive me if I'm not quite correct). The weapon had a smart looking telescopic sight and a sound moderator (sometimes erroneously called a silencer).

Rob must have sensed my interest and he invited me to have a shoot. We walked to an empty field where he put up two plastic barrels with crosses inscribed as targets at about 150 yards.

He had a glint in his eye as he offered me the weapon to go first at the left hand target. I resigned myself that I'd just be happy to hit the target. 20 years without holding a rifle is no match for someone who has been shooting on a regular basis for 20 years. Pistols, yes; Rifles, no.

I tried desperately to remember the 4 marksmanship principles, but I could only manage one. The weapon must be pointing naturally at the target without undue physical effort. Of course, archery practice helped... the shot must be followed through... (something or other).

The two shots rang out even through the fitted sound moderator. The calibre is heavy enough to take out Muntjac downwards, but of course it didn't have the kick of a military weapon.  Rob took over for his shots. Of course I was proved right, but even Rob seemed impressed as I grouped 2 inches to his 1 1/2 inches. We had a few more rounds at 150 yards and then came back to 50 yards where we both ended up getting pretty close to the cross.

 

I was having a great time. That was until Rob told me that each shot cost a quid (one pound). Maybe I'll stick to bows and arrows!

The rest of the day was a blur as I went through the motions of watching wildlife. Every rabbit I saw had cross hairs on it!

Thus finished a day of strange coincidences. There must be a message in there somewhere. How much are Ruger rifles?

Pablo.