Mr F’s latest quip, and him at his best:
When I start a tactical drill, I look at a student and say, “Go!” Students are expected to instantly spring into action, get moving, devise a plan on the run, and then aggressively solve the problem. Tactical drills are only vaguely described beforehand. I don’t provide detailed instructions.
We’re training Operators, not Rockettes!
What happens when our student belatedly discovers his optic’s brightness is set so high that he can’t see anything beyond the glowing dot, or so low that he can’t see the dot/reticle at all. Or, is otherwise less-than-optimal?
In the latter example, do we fight though the problem, without the slightest vacillation, deploying BUIS (Back-Up Iron Sights), when necessary, while on the move?
Or, do we stop what we’re doing, plant our feet in cement, and then gawk at our gun as we stand motionless adjusting dials to perfectly suit our needs?
That reminds me of my first trip to Gunsite, the 270 General Rifle Course back in August of 2003. It was the end of the week, and one of the more well-known gun writers came to see our class and do a write-up (which he did well). He also was invited to bring his own rifle and join in the shoot-off. He was an experienced hunter and a capable shot, but the difference between his posture and ours was stark: when the buzzer sounded, he calmly took up a very good, text-book standing position, took his time aiming and squeezed off one or two perfect shots. (Really, they were; right in the center of the steel disc.) Whoever from our class was paired against him snapped into action, assumed an aggressive fighting stance, quickly went into an offhand position and snapped off two or three good-enough shots, faster than he got off his first shot, then sprang into position for the next string.
That’s the difference.