Well, I had grand intentions of doing an entry every day this week. But I've been pretty darn whupped at the end of the day, and bed has been a lot more interesting than sitting in front of the computer trying to simulate coherence. I've been collapsing into bed around 7 or 8 every night. But even though it's been a tiring week, it hasn't been exhausting, and it has been interesting and a lot of fun. Thursday morning I did a lot more shooting, and got my introduction to the Bad Boy, Mr. Remington--the shotgun. I was very glad that I'd had the chance to shoot the shotgun before, a couple of months back, so I knew that I could do it without making as ass of myself. So we got a very thorough training in the use of the shotgun, including various methods of loading and unloading, and, of course, how to fire it. My instructor started us out with some low-power birdshot, just to get us used to the feel of the gun, but then, once he was satisfied that we Had A Clue, we got to load up with the nasty stuff--the rifled slugs. To qualify with the shotgun with this department you have to fire 5 rounds of rifled slugs, and 5 rounds of 00magnum buckshot. Any hit in the green on the target with a slug is worth 12 points, and any hit with buckshot in the green is a point for each pellet. You have to score 96 to qualify. I managed to score a 111 (Woo!), which means that not only do I not have to qualify with the shotgun for another year, but they actually issued me one of these bad boys to keep and carry. (Though I won't actually be carrying it until I have a crusier of my own.) I do, however, have a really Lovely bruise on my upper arm where I let the shotgun slip off my shoulder once. Not to mention the nifty bruise right below my right eye where I whacked myself with my own thumb when the shotgun kicked. But hey, I did it.

Then, after the shotgun, I got the chance to go through the pistol qualifying course. I managed to score a 115 out of 120, which is nicely respectable. (Again, 96 qualifies.) I'm going to get another chance to go through the course on Monday--this time "for real"--so I'm hoping I can improve on that a tad. (118 or better is an Expert rating.)

Thursday afternoon, we did driving, which involved mostly being taught a new method of steering, and doing lots of weaving in and out of cones, and trying not to knock any over. That was pretty fun and I managed to only knock a couple over. We didn't do any pursuit driving, since I'm still pretty clueless on basic tactics and stuff. I think I'm supposed to come back and do that at some later point.

But Friday was the Fun Stuff. The entire morning, and much of the afternoon was spent doing defensive tactics, including baton techniques, weapon retention, how to get a gun away from someone holding it on you, how to get your gun away from someone who grabs it, and then pat-down and handcuffing techniques.

And then, around 3pm, it was time for the event I'd been dreading all week. The OC Qualification.

OC=Oleoresin Capsicum, i.e. Pepper Spray. To pass this qualification, one has to be sprayed in the face with the OC, run about 20 feet to a person holding a punching bag and perform knee strikes against it for ten seconds (all the while yelling at the person to get down, on the ground, on their face, etc...), then run another 20 feet or so to another target to perform elbow strikes (along with more yelling.) Next, run to yet another target, find the baton that is lying on the ground and perform baton strikes for ten seconds, then finally one has to open one's eyes long enough to tell the instructor how many fingers he is holding up, then get tackled by the instructor as he tries to take one's weapon away. And only then is one taken and decontaminated.

Easy, right? Heh.

Okay, so I'd been wanting to get this over with all week, because this is the Event, this is where they see what you're made of. So they were setting everything up outside on a corner of the firing range, and as my luck would have it, the academy students were on the range practicing. So not only did I have to get sprayed in the face with OC, but I knew I was going to have an audience of about 50 people.

Finally everything was ready and I had to stand on the grass, with the OC instructor about 6 feet in front of me. He told me to take a deep breath, and when I was ready, to close my eyes. So, deep breath, I squeezed my eyes shut, and a second later I felt liquid hitting my face. "Open your eyes now," I was told. I opened my eyes... and slammed them back shut. Shit! I managed to get them open long enough to see where I had to run, them somehow made it over there and started laying into the bag for all I was worth. My face was burning like crazy, my eyes hurt like you wouldn't believe, and he must have gotten me right across the mouth too, because I was spitting and hacking like a champion tobacco-chewer. I could hear my instructor yelling at me, "Talk to him! Tell him what to do!" So I started yelling something about getting on the ground to the guy holding the bag, I was spitting and drooling so bad though, that I don't know if any of it was comprehensible. "Switch!" Okay, peek out of the burning eyes long enough to see where the next target is, and run again. Shit, this stuff hurts. Elbow strikes this time, and I'm yelling and spitting. Everything is in a red haze, even with my eyes closed. "Switch!" Somehow I managed to stumble right onto the baton, and I grabbed it and wailed on the guy holding the bag. (He later told me that I was hitting him a lot more than the bag, but luckily it was a padded baton.) Finally, a century later, "How many fingers?" Aw, shit, I actually had to open my eyes. "Three!" As soon as the air hit them they started burning like crazy again, and then I got tackled and had to fight for my gun. Every tactic I'd ever been taught fled from my head, but I held onto my gun, and managed to get an arm around my instructor's head and my hand onto his eyes. I guess this satisfied him, because he yelled, "Recover!" and then I was half-dragged over to the hose, a fan, and bucket of ice water that they had set up. There was a towel submerged in the ice water, and oh dear god did that first touch of the ice-cold towel on my face feel wonderful. Somehow I'd sucked some of the OC into my mouth, so I was still hacking and spitting and coughing, and snot was running out of my nose at a record pace. (I'd been warned by my instructor beforehand: "You're going to think you spent $500 at a snot sale. It's going to be everywhere.") They alternated hosing me off, including rinsing my hair very thoroughly, and repeatedly dunking the towel in the ice water and pressing it to my face. ("Don't rub or wipe! Just dab!") More hosing, more dunking, more spitting, and blowing of the nose. My lips were burning the worst--kinda like when you eat some really hot seafood, but about a hundred times worse. It was about five minutes before I could open my eyes and keep them open for more than about a second. It was about half an hour (though it felt like three hours) before I could get up and walk around and not have to sit in front of the fan. I kept the cold towel with me for a while though, and even two hours later I could still feel some tingling.

But as soon as I was up and moving around (I was soaking wet at this point,) I had no less then 20 of the academy students--many of whom have been on the road for quite some time already--come up to me, shake my hand, and tell me--some quite fervently--that I'd done a really great job, and where was I going to be working? I suddenly felt like I was really a part of something special.

Made it all worth it.