FORT JACKSON, S.C. -- I went to the range recently, and I was a steely-eyed killer. On a qualification course with targets popping up out of the ground, I shot 35 out of the 40 silhouettes that dared to challenge me.
Granted, I was using an M-16 with a laser beam, and they were virtual targets, but I still wiped them out. This is an amazing accomplishment for me because during my active duty days, I could not hit the broad side of a barn. I would stay out on the firing range all day and still not qualify by hitting just 23 of the 40 targets.
I've never been able to shoot. Throughout my career, my instructors, sergeants and I tried everything we could think of to improve my shooting. We tried various tactics, different arm positions, different firing positions; I even wore a patch over my eye to remain focused on the target. Nothing helped.
Now, I can shoot 35 out of 40 targets without breaking a sweat. The only difference between active duty Cursha and Reserves Cursha is motherhood. I will submit to you that the stresses of motherhood have made me a better rifleman.
Motherhood and life as an Army spouse, for that matter, are loaded with stressful situations. When presented with these situations, moms and wives can't always express their emotions the way they truly want to either because it's irrational or they fear incarceration so they stuff them down instead.
For example, I can't pitch a fit when my 3-year-old colors all over the couch, carpet and walls with a marker because she really won't care. She would actually be very amused and take notes for her next tantrum so instead, I stuff it. When my baby playfully punches me hard right in my eye, I can't blow up at him so I stuff it. After a long day, when I finally make it into my bedroom to crawl into to bed and I trip over my hubby's pile of uniform and boots, I don't wake him up and let him have it. Stuff. Stuff. Stuff.
But, oh when the day at the range came! I got down into my firing position. I locked the butt of that weapon firmly into my shoulder. I hunkered down to get my sight picture and fired away. Please don't misunderstand. I didn't have any of my family members in my sights.
It was simply a physical release of the internal madness that consistently bubbles under the surface of all women who wear many hats in their lives, I believe. It was amazing! I was in the zone, I was on a mission, and I succeeded.
Who could imagine that going to the firing range would help me relieve stress in my personal life while satisfying a mandatory Army standard' It was an amazing day of
training. God bless the Army and the privilege of going to the firing range.
Anybody up for a friendly game of laser tag'
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