#fromladtogunner
By LongJohn
I came a long way from Nottingham —
a lad with more cheek than sense,
thinking the world was big
and I was bigger.
Then I met a 105 light gun
and learned very quickly
who was in charge.
They taught me the basics first:
boots, bearings,
don’t stand where the recoil lives.
But the real lessons came later —
the ones you only learn
when the air tastes of cordite
and the ground shakes like it’s alive.
“Keep the charge bags dry,”
the Number One barked,
and he meant it like a warning.
Six charges —
one to six —
each one a different kind of promise.
Small charge, close target.
Big charge, long reach.
Get it wrong
and the gun will tell the world
you’re an idiot.
Direct fire was a different beast.
No time to think,
no room for doubt.
The moment you fired,
you became a target yourself —
so you loaded fast,
laid faster,
and prayed the next round
would land before theirs did.
Somewhere in all that noise,
I stopped being the lad from Nottingham
and became a gunner —
one of the stubborn few
who trust a steel barrel
more than their own luck.
And I’ve carried that with me
ever since.
Feb 8
Feb 8, 2026 at 7:58 AM UTC