When I was 16 I was enlisted into the Royal Army Medical Corps as a trainee combat medical technician (CMT). To be entered for CMT training requires one of the highest qualifying scores on the army's intelligence test, which is what makes the following tale all the more stupid:

Tommy was a year older than me, and in the same platoon. For a medic he had a startling deficiency of common sense, so me being one of the most intelligent in the battalion I often ended up paired off with him (my usual partner, known as an "oppo" in the British Army's slang, would also get stuck with some numbnuts).

We had been trained extensively for three months solid on the use of the L85A1 rifle, also known as the SA80. It may be a plastic toy for the most part, but occasionally it does what it's told. We were getting near the end of the first part of our training, and we were down on the range for our skill-at-arms test. Being an excellent shot, I had the misfortune to (once again) get stuck with Tommy.

"We're up in a couple of minutes, all ready?" I says, "Weapon working? Magazine full?" "Aye," says Tommy, "Thirty-one rounds in the mag, more on the bandolier."

That didn't sound quite right...

"You mean thirty." "No, thirty-one." "It's a thirty round magazine, you cannot fit a thirty-first round in there." "Count them if you like."

He hands me his magazine, I decided I was gonna count these, just to be sure I was hearing right. The top round was seated correctly, as per instruction. Once I had thumbed the top round out of the way the first words to exit my lips were "WHAT THE F**K???" He'd gotten thirty-one rounds into a thirty round magazine by alternating the direction they were pointed in, so the first was pointed forward, the second was pointed backward, and so on...

Elementary marksmanship: the bullets want to be pointing at who you want to shoot, they're of no use pointed anywhere else! I'm not much of a physicist, more a biology and chemistry kinda gal. From what I'd been taught however, had he loaded that magazine into his weapon, made ready and then squeezed the trigger, the first round would've fired as normal. Trouble is, as the recoil sent the bolt assembly back and the return spring bounced it forward again to automatically shunt the second round into the chamber, the mechanism would've crushed the round, potentially causing an explosion powerful enough to remove half of his already non-functioning head.

I didn't grass him up as no harm was done, however I did make sure to keep as much metal as possible between his firing position and my head, which already had a helmet, woolly hat and several steel objects fixed firmly to it. I passed the test, and more importantly I survived with all limbs and my head still firmly in place. Tommy managed to terrify the target changers down in the dugout by getting more of his rounds to ricochet off the metal and concrete fixtures than actually went through the target. He went on to repeat basic training I don't know how many times.

These day's I'm 21 and a civilian nurse, and if I ever see another idiot carrying a gun I'm just gonna drop whatever I'm carrying and run for dear life.

Submitted on 07/06/2006

Submitted by: Joey
Reference: Personal Account.

Copyright © 2006 DarwinAwards.com

James said:
Definitely Keep: Personal Account
A mighty fine "war story" as ever I've been told! Thanks, Joey! Yep, squeeze 'em into the magazine in alternating directions...HA!!! Wait until I share this one with my National Guard Unit (we're an Army Band; we do more damage with our instruments than our weapons and even WE know how NOT to load our magazines!) A keeper...!

Jorge said:
Definitely Keep: Personal Account

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