One by one, each cadet stepped up to the platform, taking his time to line up his scope and fire. All the cadets missed, bar Brunskill, who boasted about his victory. Bill stepped up and did as Luke had told him to, but to no avail, for he was no marksman and he knew it. Then Luke stood behind the wooden platform, resting his gun solidly and holding it firmly within his hand. He squeezed the trigger. He stood back and grinned as the bullet sped to the centre of the target, and Captain Pierce waved the white flag to say the target had been successfully hit.

‘Well done, Luke. That means there’s just you and Brunskill to try the next platform.’ Bill patted his mate on the back and looked at the anger on Brunskill’s face as they made their way across the wild grassland to the platform next to the wall. Brunskill’s mob was cheering him on and he was full of himself as he opted to shoot first, when given the choice.

The cadets went quiet as he posed himself, taking time lining up the small speck in the distance. Bang! The shot was fired and all eyes turned to Captain Pierce as he rotated the target, and it looked as if it had been hit. But his arm rose and waved a red flag to show that the target had not been damaged, and a gasp of disappointment was heard from Brunskill and his followers.

‘Good luck, Luke,’ Bill whispered, as the rest of the cadets watched him.

‘Aye, good luck, mate,’ one of the group shouted as Luke took his position.

He licked his lips and twisted his cap round. Looking through his sights, he lined up the target as best as he could, aimed and fired! It seemed an age before the target was turned round and examined by Captain Pierce, and Luke couldn’t believe it when a white flag was raised and a cheer went up from all the cadets. They patted him and congratulated him, swarming round him like bees around a honey pot.

‘Right through the bloody centre, Fox, a pure bullseye.’ Captain Pierce came running up with the paper target showing the impact of his shot. ‘Good man.’

Luke grinned and was speechless. He turned and looked at a downcast Brunskill, whose friends seemed to have deserted him. Luke held his hand out to him and watched as Brunskill couldn’t quite take in his act of comradeship.

‘Hard luck, Brunskill, better luck next time.’ Luke shook the hand of the lad who had been a bully to him for so long. He’d no need to prove his worth to him any more. He’d been shown to be the better shot, and now everyone knew it.