- Joined
- Aug 26, 2007
- Messages
- 427
One man's experience.
Focus. Sight Picture. Breathe out…slow…easy…
“Shooter ready!”
I shift my grip slightly on my Yugoslavian SKS, filled with last-minute doubts. Is the gas switch in the right position? Is my firing pin channel really clean? Am I using the wrong grip out of inexperience? Did Tito plan on using these out to two hundred yards? Too late. Let’s do this.
“Let’s get ‘er done.”
“Go on the beep!”
Two hundred yards away, 8 black steel plates taunt me. Heat shimmers off of the dry Carolina field, warping my targets. I get down on the rifle, setting the foregrip on the sandbag and lining up the first plate.
A beep pierces through my earplugs. One man. One rifle. One minute. It’s showtime.
Pop. “High!”
Pop. “High!”
Pop. “High! Pull it down!”
The heat is causing the bullet to stay up. Bring it down a little. I pull a fine bead with my front sight.
Pop. “Hit!”
I’m shocked. I actually hit it! Next target.
Pop. Pop. “Hit!”
Pop. Pop. Pop. I fire steadily and two more targets fall.
I start to take up the slack again on the trigger but it doesn’t engage. I let off and reach for a stripper clip lying on my blanket.
Slam-and-jam, pull back, ride home. Ten more rounds are ready to go. Alright Tito. Let’s see what your rifle can do.
Ten more shots, three more targets down. One left. I reach for another stripper clip. Unlike my others, it’s a parkerized Yugoslavian. I run one end into the guiding rails of the bolt carrier. Seven rounds come off, but the rest bind on the metal and stick.
Curse you, lousy Yugoslavian stripper clips.
I yank the stripper clip and the remaining three rounds from the weapon. How long do I have left? I pull back the bolt and let it ride home.
Pop. Pop. Beeeeep. Dust obscures the berm. Did I get the last one?
The dust clears. No joy.
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