I thought it’d be nice to interject a few funny antidots. I
did say in my last post I didn’t exactly live the life of a normal person with
a disability. Here’s an example. This one takes us to the firing range up in
Kilbride. The following is unofficial and never happened if anyone asks.
If you recall back in the mid 1990’s I was in the Air Corps.
A year after I’d initially lost my sight the lads thought it would be great
craic to bring me on annual range practice. They were going anyway so why not
bring me. Now you must remember this is the military, so they don’t just let
anyone on the range, you must pass a test every year. Off we went to the depot
for our annual war week – fitness test, rifle drills, we did other stuff too,
but I can’t remember what. Anyways for a day or two you go through all your
rifle drills, stripe and assembly and safety drills, then you are tested to see
if you are competent enough and safe enough to go on the range. The NCO’s were
trying to figure out how I was going to get through all this. The Steyr is not
that complicated and the safety checks were second nature anyway. However, some
of the little parts were a bit problematic when it came to the stripping and
assembly, but I got through it. Sure, in theory you’re meant to be able to do
all this blind folded. Forgive the pun.
Well I past the tests much to the amusement of everyone. But
the depot NCO’s were like ‘hmm ok, but we know you can’t see through the
optical sight’. ‘I can do it, trust me’ I said. Of course, my right eye is a
lot worse and that’s the eye you look down the sight. I said, ‘I can use my
left eye’, eh no that wasn’t going to work. The rifle isn’t geared for left
sighted people although you can get them. Mind you it would have made no
difference I can’t imagine my left eye being able to see the target either. And
trying to use your peripheral vision doesn’t exactly work either on the range.
Anyway, off we went. For most of the day on the ranges I was
put filling magazines under the armourer Sergeant (As this never happened I
won’t be putting down his name). I didn’t mind. He was sound, and I felt
useful. For those who don’t know what happens on the range, it’s not like
here’s a hundred rounds off you go. There are several distances you have to
fire from – 100m, 200m, 300m. Then there’s a whole sequence of practices such
as ten rounds at 200m. It goes on and on. For me and the Sergeant it was a day
of fifty magazines with five rounds, another fifty with twenty, another fifty
with twelve. (I can’t remember exactly the sequences or what went into what).
While some of the guys were on the range, others were in the butts putting up
and down the targets, indicating where the person hit and then putting a patch
on the hole. Then everyone swoops around.
After a while I was like ‘um excuse me when’s my turn. I did
pass the test’. There was a bit of a discussion amongst the NCO’s. ‘Come on
so’. Onto the range I went. But just to make sure I at least fired in the right
direction one of the NCO’s stood over me. Needless to say, I could not see the
targets at 300m or 200m. But at closer distances I could make out the mountain
behind the range and I knew from being there before the white line and the
mucky colour was the targets and the earth behind them. At 100m though I could
kind of make out the general direction of the targets but not through the sight,
which was frustrating. The lads in the butts (the sheltered area underneath
where the targets go up and down) were warned I was firing and to take cover.
I’m not kidding. They told me after laughing that there was muck flying
everywhere in the butts. They said I hit everything but the targets and there
were ricochets all over the place. Funny as hell. Every now and then the NCO
who was standing over me would tip the rifle up or down. Just to be clear I was
pointing it straight and there is a big mountain behind the Kilbride ranges,
and no, no sheep were harmed in this exercise.
Then the NCO’s from the Apprentice School were like ‘Wes come
on with us, we have a job for you’. Up to the pistol range we went. “I’ve
already filled these magazines so what crappy job am I going to get landed with”
I thought. ‘Here you go Wes’ and they handed me a BAP. Pistols are great craic.
You get to stand at 50 - 25m if I remember correctly. All rounds hit the
target, I swear. I was however standing about 20m from it. The silhouette man
that was the target I think got away scot free. The silhouette man beside my
target went down big time. I’m not sure who got more fun out of this me or the
Apprentice School NCO’s. If you thought some of the guys in my class were
wired, you should have met some of our instructors. So that was my impression
of Yosemite Sam. Not the first or the last time we got up to antics like this. Remember
this never happened if anyone asks. Next time I might tell you about the time
the lads gave me driving lessons around Baldonnel. Or there was that other time
the drivers from Transport gave me lesson in the Nissan patrol when we were in Ballymullen
Barracks in Kerry. I took it too far, apparently starting up the Civil Defence
fire engine was not a good idea.
There’s plenty more funny tales to come.
