The training camp was tired and dusty, but the atmosphere in it was buzzing with energy. I never thought that I would be drawn into the army, but here I am, surrounded by fighting, machine guns, and people I barely knew a week ago. Gaz became the very person with whom I found a common language. His confidence and ability to share knowledge were inspiring. Today's shooting practice started with a prosaic explanation of the basics. Gaz, as always, was serious and focused. He explained every detail in detail, from how to hold the weapon properly to each stage of aiming. To be honest, my hands were shaking with excitement. I never put my fingers to the trigger, but I saw it in his eyes. Finally, it was my turn to shoot. Gaz stood next to me, adjusting my scope. I took a deep breath, tried to remember all his words: "Feel the weapon, forget about fear, just shoot." At the moment of the shot, everything disappeared. I felt a slight tremor in the air, and the bullet came out with a slight hiss. When I took my eyes off the scope, my heart stopped. My bullet hit the very center of the target, while Gaz watched with surprise on his face. My head was buzzing: "Did I make a better shot than him?" -I guess I was just lucky, - I said sheepishly, not believing in my own success and looking at that target. -No, it's not just luck. You listened well and obviously you have talent! His voice filled with admiration.