Shooting firsts

‘You never forget your first time’ is a phrase used for many of life’s more pleasurable experiences, but it’s a curious fact that shooters can almost always recall the first time they shot a certain quarry species.

We remember precisely, as though it were yesterday, where we were, who we were with, what gun we used the scent of the empty cartridge case.  All the miniscule details of the shot, as though it had been captured and recorded for posterity by the mind’s camera.

Just see how many shooting firsts you can recall when you’ve a few minutes to spare.

Wild duck

One of my most significant shooting firsts was my first wild duck, which I remember now as clearly as anything.

It was early October and I’d been at school when a south-westerly breeze had come up in the afternoon.  I thought I’d ride my bike to a nearby marsh to see what it was about, my 12-bore in its slip over my shoulder.

I can see the bird now in my mind’s eye, a duck mallard which came in low, flying directly into the strengthening wind and into range. I raised my gun, swung through the bird and fired.  I missed behind – classic schoolboy error!

The duck took evasive action and gained height on the strong breeze. My second shot from the choke barrel crumpled the bird and it fell, much to my astonishment, into a patch of reeds 30-odd yards away.

Not a spectacular shot by any means, but I’d got my first wild duck – and on the foreshore too.

I waited until dark but nothing else came by, so rode home on my bike in triumph with the duck hanging proudly from the handlebars. The achievement signified that I was now a wildfowler!

Consequently, I decided that I should join WAGBI and the very next day cut out the enrolment details from the Shooting Times.  I sent off a postal order for the grand sum of £3.50 to become a Junior Member.

A few days later, my membership card and WAGBI badge came through the post. I still wear my badge with pride on my wildfowling cap, despite its very obvious signs of age.

Wiley woodpigeon

Bagging my first woodpigeon at the age of 15 was another memorable shooting landmark.  This was not least because I shot with a bolt-action Webley .410 in those days, and dozens of woodpigeon had effortlessly evaded my desperate efforts to connect with one using my 7/16th ounces of shot.

My shooting pal Richard and I would often venture onto farmland not far from home, where we both had permission to shoot, with our .410s after school. It was on one such evening expedition that I finally secured my first woodpigeon.

Canadas generally occur in large numbers and fly obligingly low. Conversely, the smaller population of greylags only occasionally appear at flight times and invariably rise to the height of several gunshots, rendering them untouchable.

During very windy weather, I had occasionally seen greylag skeins flying at almost zero height to cross the foreshore.  This would be either in the mornings, when they moved from their roosting grounds far out on the estuary, or flighting to their roosting grounds as it got dark. However, each time I’d seen the geese fly this low, they would head wide of me and not offer a chance of a shot.