My Marksmanship Epiphany

Epiphany (n): A sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.

I wasn’t always a good shot.  I studied (and even taught) marksmanship in high school — I was in JROTC, and I tried out for the rifle team, and actually made it.  But I certainly wasn’t the best shot on the team.  In fact, I was usually the lowest scorer on the team in most matches.

Fortunately for my team, in a rifle match, you only had to count the top 5 scores (out of 6), so I was nearly always the “scratch man”.  Good enough to get on the team (just barely), but not good enough to really help them.

I could shoot really well in the prone and kneeling positions.  I would typically shoot 99/100 or 100/100 prone, and 95/100 or better in kneeling.  Respectable, but so could all the other team members.  I would then proceed to drop 30 or more points in the standing or “offhand” position, compared to 10 or fewer for the other team members.

I knew all the theory; BRASS (Breathe/Relax/Aim/Slack/Squeeze), natural point of aim, etc., but I just could not get my offhand score up into a decent range.  I tried a number of things.  I practiced nearly every day, coming in an hour before school started, and coming back to the range after school for an hour. I tried lifting weights and various other strength training exercises. All that helped, but not enough to move me out of “scratch” position.

During the very last match I ever shot with the Irvin HS Rifle Team, something happened that had a lasting effect on my marksmanship skills.  I went into the match with my usual 100/100 in prone, dropped only 2 in kneeling, and then… just by pure dumb luck, my first offhand shot was a scratch-bull.  I knew it when the shot went off; it felt dead on.  That did happen from time to time, so that wasn’t a Really Big Deal.

But then one of the coaches on the other team turned to his assistant coach, and said “I thought you said this Harkness character couldn’t shoot shit for offhand.”  Even with my hearing protection on, I heard it clearly.  That remark had a truly wonderful (in the original sense of the word) effect on me.  It was like a giant hand came out of the sky to steady my rifle.  The next shot was also a scratch bull, but this time, it wasn’t pure dumb luck; I simply COULD NOT MISS.  The next shot was a pinwheel, followed by another scratch bull.  I only dropped 4 points offhand that day, which moved me from “scratch man” to high scorer, and I finished with a 294/300, the highest I had ever shot, even counting practice sessions.

After the match, my coach came up to me, and asked, “What the HELL got into you, Harkness?”  I told him what had happened, whereupon he replied, “Shit.  I wish I’d thought of that two years ago.”

To this day, I can’t put the sights on target without hearing “I thought you said this Harkness character couldn’t shoot shit for offhand” in my mind.  And the effect has never worn off.