Chapter 5: Sniper School Monday 03 September 2007

Khudabah, Pakistan - Night five

Ohhhh, Shit. What's that?

It's the damn rats biting me again; they woke me out of a great dream. Ah. I smashed that fucker. Maybe they'll eat on him for awhile and not on me. Damned cannibalistic bastards. Every time I fall asleep, my feet slip down and the damned rats are just waiting.

Today, my captors continued with the torture and the questions. They realized that beating and water boarding didn't work, so they brought in some sort of electrical machine, and would shock the hell out of me when I wouldn't answer. When they cranked it up the last time, I passed out and woke up hanging from the ceiling again.

No food or water tonight, but I can lose myself in my mind, and maybe get some sleep...

Kaneohe Bay Hawaii — Monday Day Two

It' was a good thing that we were in Hawaii, because the nights are mild. Otherwise we would have gotten cold that night. I woke up just as it was thinking about becoming dawn. I really needed to get up and take a leak, but it felt so nice having Jens on my lap and holding her close, I decided the leak could wait.

After about thirty minutes of holding my lovely Jens, just as the sun was peeking over the horizon, she started stirring and woke up. She blinked her eyes a couple of times. At first she wasn't sure where she was.

Then she looked at me with those twinkling violet eyes and said, "Wow, I guess you did hold me for just a little while longer. I could get used to waking up like this." She kissed my cheek. "Good morning, Honey. Are you ready to be my big, strong Marine today?"

"Yes, my love, but first I have some things to take care of in the bathroom that can't wait much longer," I groaned.

She jumped up off my lap and held out her hands and helped me up. Ohh, I was stiff. I promised myself I'd stretch later, after the toilet. We went off to our separate bedrooms, and thirty minutes later, I was done with my morning routine. I heard Jens in the kitchen already when I came out of my bedroom into the living room.

She was ready for the day and was already making breakfast, I walked up behind her, wrapped my arms around her, and gave her a big hug.

"Good morning again, my love. Are you ready to be my big strong Marine today?"

She started laughing, turned and returned the hug. "Get the coffee, my dear, and set the table. Breakfast in three minutes."

Breakfast was the same as the day before, which was fine by me. I love oatmeal for breakfast. Since I spent the time with the Tarahumara Indians, I've found that I did better if I ate more grains and less meat, I just wished that I could get some of their corn Pinole for my meals.

Again, Jens started the meal with a prayer. I'd have to ask her about that someday.

I looked over at Jens and said, "Jens, I have to tell you that last night was wonderful, but that I'm really confused. Things are moving so fast." She started to look a little angry, but I continued. "Now, don't get upset. I meant every word that I said to you last night and even more. I don't understand it, but somehow I have fallen in love with you. I think that it started at the Leadville race and it has just been getting stronger for the last two days.

"But it's not like me, other than my parents I don't think I've ever loved anyone before — I certainly didn't love my ex-girlfriend like I love you — so I'm not sure how to act or what to do. But here's one thing that I know, we can't have PDA (Public Display of Affection) at least when we're on a base together. Even though I want to tell the whole world about us, we can't do that just yet. But I would like our relationship to be just like last night when we're alone together. It'll be this way until we're no longer enlisted, but when that happens; I plan on making you Mrs. Blaine."

She jumped up out of her chair, came over to me and pushed my chair back, straddled my lap, and sat down, looking me in the eyes. "Then I'll resign right now so that I can be your 'whole' wife!"

"Jens, that would be a big mistake for both of us, and you know it. First, you have worked too long and too hard to give it up; second, you're too damn good to quit; and third — and the most important — if you quit, I'll still be going away on missions and you won't be able to come with me. If you're my spotter, we can travel together and be together." Sometimes I do come up with good ideas.

She searched my eyes. "The first two, I'd give up in a moment for you ... but you're right on the last one. It would drive me crazy if you were gone and I wasn't there to take care of you. It does make sense for me to stay in, but it's going to be hard as hell not to touch you when we are in public."

"Jens, just remember how you were the last two days — you did touch me and you did hug me, and no one thought anything about it. And remember how you flirted and acted even during the Leadville race? I'd really miss it if those things changed." I made my point and she liked it.

"Well, my love, it's time to get moving today. You're in Ben's boot camp." As she got up off me, I swatted her tight butt. "Get moving, Marine!"

"If I don't, will you spank me more?" she asked mischievously. That's the Jens that I know and love.

She cleaned up the dishes this time, and we went to our rooms to brush our teeth and to get our sidearms. I always like to spend about an hour doing 'my' PT first thing in the morning, and it was about time that Jens was indoctrinated into the routine.

You see, you don't need to spend hours in the gym and become a 'gym rat' to get and be in shape, but it does take some time each day. If I wasn't active in the Marines, I could probably have pared my workout down to half an hour a day, but to keep this lean, mean fighting machine tuned took me an hour each day.

We jogged over to the gym at an easy pace to warm up our muscles. I break down the muscles into three groups; that way I can work out each day and each set of muscles gets worked twice a week. The seventh day, I don't rest like God did. I use that day to crank out some serious aerobics.

Today was shoulders, chest, and triceps (the back of the arms). We started out doing military presses with dumbbells. We picked a weight that was comfortable and did presses for one minute using proper form and technique; I'm a stickler on this. We pressed the dumbbells up in a slow and controlled motion. Then, at the top of each press — when most people quit — we clenched our trapezius muscles (the big muscles on the side of the neck that goes from the neck to the top of the shoulders), forcing the dumbbells up and even higher. Then we slowly lowered them back to the start. We did as many reps as we could in one minute.

After that, we dropped the weights and did single leg squats for one minute to keep our heart rates up. It took just a little bit of work and teasing to get Jens doing them right by the end of the 5^th set.

Next on the agenda was shoulder flies, with the same routine — lift slow, hold when the arms are at 90 degrees to the body (any higher can damage the shoulders), then clench the traps and slowly lower to the start.

This time, we did step ups on the bench for our one minute rest.

Shoulders were done, so it was time for the chest, and the first exercise was the dumbbell press. However, as usual, we added a few twists to it. We found a weight that was comfortable, lay back on the bench, then pressed our arms slowly up to a forty-five-degree angle to the floor. When we reached the top, we clenched the pectorals (chest muscles), forcing the weights up even higher, and lowered them slowly back to the start position.

Jens had some problems with this because she started out too heavy, but once we got the right weight she said, "I like this exercise; maybe it will make my breasts bigger."

I leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Anything more than a mouthful is wasted." She started laughing and dropped the weights. We did five sets.

In between the sets, we did jumping jacks.

The second chest exercise was chest flies, with the pec clench at the top. Five sets of those.

Squat thrusts in between.

We were done with the weights for the shoulders and the chest, so it was time to do some functional exercises. The first one was hand stand shoulder presses, again watching the form. Jens couldn't balance that well, so she did them against the wall, and I actually helped her up and down by grabbing her ankles.

Five sets with duck walks in between.

The second functional exercise was the dive bomb. You start out in the yoga position of downward facing dog, then you bend your elbows and let your body come forward about an inch off the floor. As your breasts pass your arms, you push your arms up, locking your elbows, and bending your back in a reverse arch; sort of like cobra position, but your body is off the ground. You then reverse it, and that is one rep. It's great for working the shoulders, chest, and arms, and is also a good stretch.

In between, we did squat jumps to keep our heart rates up.

The last functional exercise was the normal push up. Sometimes, I would change and do wide or diamond pushups, but that day, it was just normal pushups for five sets.

And of course, no rest in between. We ran in place.

Two more exercises and then we would be done. It was time to work the triceps. First off was the standing tricep press, and to keep from cheating, we kept our triceps locked to the side of our heads.

Five sets, and in between the sets, we went over and punched the heavy bag.

The last exercise was skull crushers. We lay on a bench and slowly lower the dumbbells until they are right over our forehead, if we slipped we'd crush our skull.

Five sets and more bag work in between.

In ninety minutes we did a kick-butt workout that worked part upper body and got a good aerobic pump going. What to do with the other fifteen minutes?

We spent five minutes of that time beating the crap out of the heavy bag with punches, slaps, elbows, knees, shoulders, feet, head, and whatever else we felt like hitting it with, all the time moving as fast as we could. Then five minutes on the punching bag to improve speed and eye- hand coordination. Then the last five minutes were full-fledged sit ups with weights behind our heads.

Jens looked over at me. "Are we done yet?"

"Can you lift your arms?" I replied.

"Just barely. I think I'll be sore tomorrow," she whined.

"Not if I give you a massage tonight," I quipped.

"I think I'd like a 'Thai' massage tonight," she said with a wink.

"Keep your pants on, Marine, you know better than that." I acted upset.

She pretended to pout. "Gee, you're no fun. I've spent all my life keeping guys out of my pants. Now that I want one in them, he won't listen to me."

"Okay, let's go. It's time to see if those rifles we have are worth a damn or if I'm going to have to send them back to the armory," I said as I hopped up. I'm getting better at ignoring her comments.

We needed to go to the long-distance range, and that wasn't on base. So I sent Jens home to start packing and I ran to the motor pool to check out a Humvee. When I pulled up to our house thirty minutes later, Jens was waiting,

"Welcome home, Honey. Everything is ready to go, and I even called our escort. they'll be here in ten minutes." We started humping the gear into the Humvee and had just finished as the escort pulled up. "Hi, boys," Jens greeted them. "It's good to see you."

I just grumbled. It's damn embarrassing having an escort, it's not like I can't take care of myself.

We jumped into the Humvee. I wanted to get her door, but the damn escort beat me to it., She reached across the seat, squeezed my hand, and said, "I know you wanted to get my door, but that time will come, Marine."

Sometimes she is spooky.

The drive out to the range was uneventful, and we didn't lose the escort. We checked in with the Range Safety Officer (RSO). He asked what we were shooting.

Jens replied, " .338 Lapua long-range sniper."

"I could put you on the thousand-meter range, but my guess is that with that round you might want to try some longer shots. So let's put you on the three thousand-meter range," He answered, and gave us our spots and directions. We didn't need the directions; we'd both been here before. We drove over and unassed the equipment.

It was a lovely day in Hawaii, with just a few high clouds and, of course, a breeze, but that wasn't too bad, and shouldn't bother the shooting much at all. I took my rifle out of the case and set it up on the table. Jens took out her spotting scope and set up beside me.

I looked over at her and said, "A bad day shooting..."

She replied, " ... is better than a good day at work!" and then we both laughed.

"Well, these are sighted in at six hundred meters. Let's see how accurate they are," I said. "Jens, please run the first target out to six hundred meters."

She complied. "Target one at six hundred meters."

"Range me," I said. Even though we both knew the range was six hundred meters, we still had to get used to working with each other. The keys to shooting accurately are: first, to avoid learning any bad habits; and second, to do the exact same thing each time.

The change that came over Jens was almost scary. The joking was gone, and she was all business. In a soft but audible whisper: "Range six hundred meters, elevation zero, wind thirty-six at three, gusting to five."

Damn, the wind was going to make my first shot interesting. We did the calculations, and I made the scope adjustments, lined up the center cross hairs on the bullseye, took one deep breath and let it half out, and gently squeezed the trigger. The gun barked, and I lost sight of the target because of the recoil.

"Good shot, Banzai — center of bulls eye," Jens squealed.

"Let's do it again," I said. Four more shots later, I said, "Jens, please bring in the target." She ran in the target and brought it over to the bench next to us. She took a quarter out of her pocket and put it over the five shots. It easily covered them, so she tried a nickel. It also covered them. Finally, she tried a dime, and even it covered them.

She looked at me with awe in her eyes, "That was incredible for your first time with this rifle."

"This is one fine shooting rifle. Shit, it's even better than the one that I had when I left the Corps. And I don't know who sighted it in but they did a damn fine job," I answered.

"Thank you," she piped up. "I'm the one who sighted it in. I tried my best, but I sure couldn't shoot a group like that; mine was the size of a quarter."

"Let's see you shoot five rounds, and perhaps we can figure out why," I replied.

We stored the old target and ran a new one out to six hundred meters and switched places.

"Range me," Jens said.

"Range, six hundred meters; elevation, zero; wind, thirty-eight at three, gusting to five," I reported. Good. The conditions were about the same, so this will be an accurate test. We did the calculations, and Jens made the scope adjustments and settled in to try her first shot. She took in a deep breath, let it half out...

"Stop! Your position is just a little off. Try moving the butt of the rifle about a quarter of an inch to the left on your shoulder." I showed her where I wanted it. She complied and started again — the deep breath, half out, and the gentle squeeze on the trigger. The .338 Lapua barked.

"Where did I hit?" she asked.

"One minute. I was watching your form not the target." I checked in the spotting scope, looked at her, and smiled. "Dead center bulls eye. Do it four more times."

We brought in the target after five shots, took it over to the bench. It was pretty small. The quarter easily covered it, the nickel just barely covered it, but the dime didn't.

She was jumping up and down and gave me a big hug. "That's the best group I've ever shot!"

I smiled. "You can do better; your follow through on the trigger isn't quite right. The shoulder position and the trigger were the only problems that I saw. Correct those, and you'll shoot as well as I do."

"Well, we know that you did a hell of a job sighting this in, let's see what this will really do. Jens please run a new target out to one thousand meters," I asked.

It's generally accepted that the maximum effective range for the .338 Lapua is one thousand eight hundred meters at a warm sea level day like today and with the low drag bullets we're using, but I've made kill shots at a great distance with my old rifle and it didn't shoot this well.

We took our places. "Range me."

"Range one thousand meters, elevation zero, wind thirty-four three, gusting to five." She was all business again. I settled in and tickled the trigger, and the 98 Bravo spoke. After four more shots, Jens brought the target in.

"Son of a bitch," she said as she covered the group with a dime, "A dime group at one thousand meters. I didn't think it could be done. Watching you shoot has made me so hot and wet; I want to take you here right now!"