The red dot to which I refer is a point of light inside the close combat optic- a form of sight to help you aim your rifle. I modeled this work after Keats' Ode on a Grecian Urn. My apologies to Keats.
Mounting and PMI
Thou still unmounted close combat optic,
Thou tool of warfare and well-placed fire,
Darken’d frame to be left with CIF optimistic,
Whenst thou was returned, our spirits higher:
PMI begins- mechanical and close combat optic alignment,
What deities or mortals, too much they boast,
Believeth they can escape its wrath?
What men or gods are these? They are all toast.
What nonsense to think to avoid having their targets rent
As the optic fixes everything in its path.
Following mechanical zero, our CCOs we illuminate
To move our precious red dot to the ideal spot below
Before the qualification the silhouette with the dot must mate
And with five of six in place thou commence to know
How small can the dot be and still allow us to view
The outline of our target not obscured by the red sphere.
And with each breath we see the rise and fall.
As the target is acquired, we can cut in pieces two
The Ivan to the front, the enemy of us all.
We are ready to qualify now, we can leave from here.
We walk the road oft traveled by, to the qualification course
And immediately on lane six I am placed.
Without time for reflection, I illuminate, lock and load, with force
In prone, I hit all but two of twenty, first portion I have aced.
Not wanting to become haughty, quickly I shift to unsupported prone
And once more leave two Ivans to fight yet again tomorrow
The kneeling comes next, a position for me quite unfamiliar
Only one target left this time, my skills I improve and hone
I cannot claim the success as my own, I admit with sorrow
Tis the red dot bringing death with vision so spectacular.
We wait, for darkness, with early qualification, hours on end.
The standard is to do it, no worries about a score.
As the night descends, the red dot is my dearest friend
The eagle cries “Two targets, not one!” Such a bore.
We’re on the range, with the Ivan close, easy to acquire
Thirty rise and thirty fall, the red dot spies them all
Only the fogging of my glasses to make a little trouble.
With the tracers I was hoping to see perhaps a little fire,
Close combat optics make firing as easy as playing ball
The red dot helps my scores, my confidence is double.
To honor the red dot the cleaning shall be undertaken
Be tender, do not scratch the lens, a fearsome yet sensitive tool
PMCS and ensure that your batteries have not been taken.
If you remove the CCO, mark the spot to replace- don’t be a fool.
Thou has served us well, red dot, I give thee many thanks
You allow the less learned to succeed in warrior tasks
To defend ourselves against all enemies, outlined in the red glow
My skill much overrated, I can do whatever my leader asks
The red dot is the truth, and truth a thing of beauty- take it to the bank
Tis all ye need to know on the range, and for some, all they know.