The whole story can be found through this link.When my turn to fire came up, I went to a prescribed spot on the firing line where an experienced soldier from another outfit was ready to instruct me (See Fig. 40). First, the leather sling attached to my rifle was loosened up, and then wrapped tightly around my right arm to give the gun more stability. The first rounds were fired from a sitting position, done in a prescribed fashion with my elbows resting on my knees just so. I was shown how to keep the rifle butt tight into my shoulder and told to hold my breath at the moment of firing. It was not a natural position, and, at first, it took some adjusting to get used to it. Finally, I was told how to line up the rifle's rear sight with the one at its tip and where the target bull's-eye should fit in relation to them. It seemed to take longer to get everyone set up to fire than did the actual firing. After taking so long, someone commented, "I hope if we ever get up against the Japs, they give us a lot of time to get ready." I wondered why we were using the leather sling. Certainly, it would not be used in any kind of combat condition. Finally, I was given a clip of ammunition that I loaded into the gun without putting a round into the firing chamber.
About fifty of us were lined up in a row, and an officer checked to make sure nobody was between the firing line and targets. If anyone moved the gun even slightly while facing the target, someone immediately chewed him out. The lieutenant then shouted, "Load the chamber and release the safety clasps! Ready on the right, ready on the left, ready on the firing line-commence firing!" and we would fire a clip full (eight rounds) of ammunition at the targets, taking careful aim after each shot. The officer then yelled, "Cease firing and set safety clasps!" and we would all reload our rifles. We fired from the sitting, standing, and prone positions at targets two-hundred-fifty and five hundred feet away. Under the heavy smell of gunpowder and with our ears still ringing, we watched our scores being tabulated. I qualified as a marksman the first time. That was better than some who did not qualify at all, but it was not as good as others. There were two classes better than marksman: sharpshooter and expert, with expert being the best. Several days later, while some of the men were trying to qualify for the first time, I shot again and made expert that time. I also qualified with a carbine rifle and a Thompson submachine gun some weeks later.
As part of our time out on the firing range, we took a turn working the targets while other soldiers were qualifying. We went out to the targets and down into a trench below where we were protected by an earthen berm from the firing. The targets were set up on a pulley system whereby we could raise them for firing, then lower them after to check for holes. We used a four-inch diameter black disc attached to a long stick to show the scorer where the bullet holes were located. If a shot missed the target entirely, we waved the disc back and forth across the target several times. This was known as waving Maggie's drawers.
Despite an effort by one of the sergeants in the pit to keep the scores legitimate, some cheating went on while I was there. It wasn't an effort to help any individual because we did not know who was firing at our target, but some men took the scoring job as an opportunity to create devilment. "He missed the damned target three out of eight times-a real Sergeant York," the guy next to me whispered referring to the World War I hero who was known for his accurate shooting, as he was marking bulls-eyes and near bulls-eyes.
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