Monday 29th March 1937

Up 7:30. Shooting on Century Range after breakfast. Damnably cold! The wind whistled across the Common. I fired – 200 and 500. My score is nothing to boast about – 7 and 8 respectively! But nevertheless I enjoyed the sensations.

The terrific concentration as the rifle gets on target – concentration so high that you hardly hear the noise if as you lie there, finger tightening on the trigger, your neighbour fires. The exciting moments of suspense as you wait, relaxed after the shot, watching the target. The moment when the bull is dead in your sights – and you are conscious of nothing else but that black blur. To summarise – I’m a damn bad shot but I love it.

The whine of bullets speeding towards targets ends Dawn 1937 and –