Free Sabre Six : File 51 by Jamie Fineran Page B

enough. These men were professional. They were the best of the best; all I had to do was guide them in the right direction. “It was simple really!”
    “Make it quick, Michael, you twat.” We all laughed at my expense.
    “Shut it, Fuck Nuts.”
    “I love you, Michael! Let’s have a baby.” Nig started now.
    “Shut it! Right! Today, men, is range day. We’re going to put a huge amount of ammo into a fist full of paper targets and pretend they are Iraqi soldiers: do you understand me? I do not want any buggering about, so stick your work heads on and let’s impress the boss.” We jumped up and loaded our magazines.
    I took each man through individually first of all. Later on, we would do it in pairs , and then as a team if we had time. Nig was first up. He held his weapon in his shoulder ready to fire.
    “Are you ready , Nig?”
    “Yes, B oss! Let’s go for it: I’m ready.”
    “Ok, when you’re ready, set off! ”
    He put one foot in front of the other , and we were off. His attitude had changed drastically. He stalked his prey like a lion placing each foot carefully in front of the other; his finger was pressed tightly against the trigger, just waiting to take his first shot. I saw the first target pop up; it was the size of a small adult. He dropped down to one knee and let rip a full magazine into the target.
    “Changing m ag!” He replaced his magazine with a full one and then shoved his empty down his smock. He continued on, treading carefully, as each step counted. The next target popped up from behind the bush. Again, he dropped to one knee and let another magazine go. He ripped it to fucking pieces. I replaced the magazine, stood up, and continued onwards, standing behind him and continuously updating him. I pulled out a thunder flash, lobbing it just as the next target popped up; he dived down, releasing a full magazine into the target. He never missed a shot.
    “Stop!” I called an end to Exercise. Then I called for the weapon to be made safe, which meant the rifleman was to unload the rifle for a safety inspection by the direction staff, i.e. me! The rifleman would check his safety catch, making sure that it was on safe, then unload the magazine, placing it back inside his pouch. He would eject the cartridge from the main body, look inside for any further rounds and after putting the working parts forwards, release the trigger to ensure he had cleared the weapon for a final inspection. 
    I briefed him on the way back to the starting point. He did bloody well and I was very impressed by the way he pinpointed his targets so quickly and emptied the mag so accurately.
    “Well done Nig! Who’s next then?” Stan stood up. All the lads gave him shit as he did.
    “Right Stan, keep calm, be professional and do a great job!
    “Right! When you’re ready, mate!”
    He stepped forward. The first target popped up. I made things harder for him by throwing two thunder flashes either side of him. It never even put him off. He got down, checked for his target and obliterated it with a double tap: I could not have asked for more. I was more concerned walking back when he tripped over a piece of wood sticking out of the ground , which sent him sprawling! I couldn’t help but give him a right roasting for being such a dopey cunt. Nig and Keith were taking the piss out of him with no let-up. Don’t worry – he got some shit for that one!
    Keith was up next: m y God did that man work hard! I threw everything I had at him but he did not let himself down once. I was fucking proud of my men.
    Next up was pairs, and then as a squad. We worked hard all morning to achieve our g oals. By the end of the morning I was a fucking happy man. After a good rest we kicked straight back into assault tactics for the afternoon. Each man was allocated a task and the exercise began. My first task was radio training. They tested us on how quickly we could put a radio back together and send a situation report to a designated call