Thursday, October 13, 2011
I'd actually forgotten some of the ...joys of Marine boot camp. One of which was the slinging, swinging and spinning around 11.5 pounds of the last true battle rifle our armed forces had, the M14. We slept with it, showered with it, ate with it, and kept it cleaner...far cleaner...than our own bodies.
Think your hands are strong? Your shoulders tight and powerful? Ha. Even the biggest recruit spent many a day weeping (inside) over the demands of learning to control then master the manual of arms. As accurate as any mass produced battle rifle ever made, but enough about my favorite military arm.
Wrestling 8.5 pounds of commie delight...the Mosin Nagant should have been a whole lot easier but I didn't think about yanking and pulling dried out leather and webbing and trying to flex the metal-wood tolerance back to "normal". What a dumbass. Not that it hasn't been fun, truth be told its been a blast and I haven't even shot the bloody thing. Still too dirty. Cosmo galore (wasn't that the name of a Bond-Girl?) lurking here, there, and everywhere.
But learning an entirely new manual of arms is invigorating and when I do get to show her off at the range I won't look like some has-been, or worse yet a never-was, playing fumble stumble and regroup.