TRY THIS ONE THEN..

Fifty years ago today, the conscripts of 60/02 intake had by then been `basically trained` for over five weeks and time to visit the firing ranges to see if we could do the one thing that was the while point of being in the army. Shoot things.

So off we went to the Catterick ranges, where we were each issued with a Sterling sub machine gun. We were shown how it was supposed to work (without bullets) and shown how to take it apart and put it back together again. We were then issued with some ammunition and, under the watchful eye of a tremulous shooting instructor, we took it in turns to aim at small targets a long way away. I just didn`t get the hang of it, I`m afraid. I was hopeless. In fact, the guy next to me ended up with more holes in his target than he had bullets to start with. He became marksman, I was in some trouble again, as I couldn`t disguise the irony here.

The Dragon Guards had given me nearly six weeks of intensive training; I was fitter than I had ever been; I could march up and down, turn right and left, even stop when barked at. I responded to barks. It became second nature, like a reflex action. And yet, and yet, after all of that, when it came to the whole point of being in the army, I could barely see the target, let alone hit it. Now the army, in their relentless pursuit of logic, came up with the perfect solution, which was to shuffle me off to an armoured fighting regiment which had BIG CHIEFTAIN TANKS with ENORMOUS GUNS, which would make it far more likely that I might just hit something.

But the irony didn`t end there, for throughout all my time with the 10th Royal Hussars, I never once got to fire any of their ENORMOUS GUNS. My reputation must have preceeded me, as it was not a risk they were prepared to take. Pity really. I would have quite liked a go at it.