The Laughing Wolf

The Cult Of Marksmanship

A regular at the tavern I frequent has a great sig line for his e-mail. It goes something to the effect that marksmanship is not a religion, it is a cult.

Too true a statement, and I am very glad that I was raised in just such a cult. For I am very proud to be a marksman. My father was a marksmanship instructor for the Marines, and shot in the national matches for them. My mother was the first woman on Mercer University’s rifle team. Between them, they taught me a lot about shooting. The main rule was, one shot, one kill.

This was a practical matter for me growing up. When you are small, you think that your parents are ancient, wise, and that nothing is beyond them. They are rich, and you have no lack. The truth of the matter is another thing entirely, and in our case we definitely were not rich. To this day I marvel at how much they were able to do with so little.

One of the ways we made do, and had the money to do other things in life such as ensure that I had a good education, was to hunt for our food. Dad went deer hunting every year, and once he deemed me old enough, I joined him in the hunt.

Deer was a staple in our diet, and when I was still quite young Dad made a point to me that a bullet was 10 cents, and then asked how much beef was a pound. Even cheap beef, he said, and made me do the math. He coached me, trained me, and was extremely patient – but that was a hallmark of his teaching. Patient and calm ruled the day. Just ask the relative who, while learning to drive, managed to put two wheels of the car up on a wall, only to be told, very calmly, to back up and try the turn again.

We did hunt other things, as Mom and Dad both loved dove. I was never very good at dove hunting, but will admit it was fun. It also left me with the firm conviction that dove have a very black sense of humor amidst a fatalistic streak. I think I may have had as much fun watching the birds fix it so that hunters were shooting each other as I did with the actual hunting.

Both Mom and Dad had nothing but contempt for multiple shots, and there were a few pithy comments from them during the Vietnam era about the “spray and pray” training given recruits at that time. It was drilled into me to pick my shot with care, just as I should always choose my battles with care. This was taught despite Dad’s fervent prayers that I would never be able to join the American Legion or similar organizations.

For example, a head shot is the best way to take a deer to maximize the amount of meat obtained. Quick, clean kill and loads of delicious meat. The drawback, of course, was that it is an extremely difficult shot, especially given how deer move their heads all the time. So, the next best shot was behind the shoulder, low, so as to take out both lungs and the heart with one shot. You lost one or both shoulders that way, but it was a clean kill. Or as clean as possible: Dad could and I can testify that a deer minus both lungs and its heart can and will run up to a mile before the body gives up.

To this day, I have a thing for head shots. Difficult, but clean and elegant. It came to mind Monday evening as I finally got around to watching “Enemy at the Gates.” Yes, I am slow, but I do eventually get there. All of the shots in the movie were head shots. Great for the story, good visuals, and totally unrealistic. Despite this and some of the Hollywoodization, it is a good movie about real events and even a real person or two. Not a lot of what I remember of the tale, but a good movie none-the-less. Though I am puzzled as to how Rachel Weisz can look even more beautiful while filthy dirty. Must be movie magic.

Head shots are good, but in battle you usually go for the safer body shot just as you do when hunting deer. Though if you have it and know you can make it, you take the head.

It took me years to realize that this meant much more than shooting, and hunting for food. One of the most important lessons I never realized I was being taught was to pick my target with care, and then to take it with one shot – whatever the target may be. It really doesn’t matter if one is writing an editorial or doing anything else of import in life, the rule is the same.

What is truly important is choosing your battles wisely, and then within that battle picking your shot with care. Just as in hunting, you really only do get one shot because the game is spooked. Just as in war, there is return fire, “civilians” moving into the fray unknowing (or stupidly), and all the other confusions and distractions that make firing again with precision difficult or impossible.

I don’t always do a good job of it, in my opinion. Some of my wars, battles, and shots have not been well chosen. In fact, I can think of a great shot I got while in college that was aimed squarely at the leader of said college. It was a direct hit, well done, and truly set the cat amongst the pigeons. The battle, alas, was not the wisest battle I have ever fought, and I learned afterwards that targets of that magnitude – or their allies – do have many ways of expressing their displeasure. I lived, however, and I learned.

So, make your shots in all things clean, and choose the shot and the battle with care. Consider all the parameters, be they maximizing food or the fallout of politics. Get all your points in quickly and accurately, as concise is always best. Then remember to squeeze the shot off after exhaling and ideally between heartbeats.

Make it clean, and make it count in all things and in all ways. I hope you will join me in the cult.

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