Unlike my current home here in the USA, I grew up in the UK, where the word “shooting” generally refers to something quite specific: shotgun fowl hunting or sporting clays.
My introduction to shooting was far more humble. Looking back, I think the first time I ever pulled a trigger was at a carnival stall, likely firing a .22 LR short at a small prize. I must have been around eight or ten years old.
That experience planted a seed. A little later down the road, I managed to trade a pair of binoculars for my first air pistol. It was weak—hardly a powerhouse—but it was fairly accurate at short range. I spent hours down by the canal, burning through my entire weekly allowance on .22 pellets.
When I was around twelve, my mum bought me an ASI air rifle. This thing was substantial—it was big for an airgun and featured a full-sized stock. Over the next few years, that rifle and I became inseparable. I put tens of thousands of pellets through it, eventually wearing out two main springs and a full set of seals before it retired.
Joining the Ranks: The Army Cadets
At thirteen, I took the next big step and joined the Army Cadets. That’s when my experience started to become more structured.
We got to shoot regularly at an indoor range, using .22 single-shot training rifles. To this day, I can’t remember the brand, but those were the weapons that really taught me the fundamentals of accuracy.
Then came the weekend camps.
At a camp at the Proteus Army base, I had my first experience with a handgun: a 9mm Browning Hi-Power. It was humbling, to say the least. I remember taking ten shots and hitting the target exactly once. LOL.
However, that same year, at another weekend camp, I was introduced to the rifle I truly fell in love with: the legendary Lee-Enfield .303. There was just something about the weight, the action, and the history of that rifle that clicked.
I eventually got good enough to make the Battalion shooting team. I spent my remaining time in the Cadets competing in various matches, both with the beloved .303 and a single-shot Match rifle chambered in 7.62.
But eventually, I aged out. I left the Cadets, and for many years, my shooting days came to an abrupt halt.
This is part one of my shooting story. In the next post, I’ll pick up where this left off—many years and thousands of miles away.
More to come.