Army Weapons Qualification Tables Novels & Stories

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They were in the middle of taking stock of their weapons and ammunition, trying to determine what they needed to purchase to prepare for the upcoming battle. Leori rubbed his temples tiredly as he gazed over the piles of weapons laid out on the table before him. Guns of all shapes and sizes, spears, arrows, bombs, and other war nuclear weapons were strewn about haphazardly. The room was filled with the sound of metal clanging against metal as the advisors sorted through the piles, taking inventory of what they had and what they still needed. "Alright, let's start with the guns," Leori said, breaking the silence.

The man in front of it nodded at Alexandro and opened the door. I walked in, and I froze. There were so many weapons, dozens, maybe hundreds, lined up neatly on metal racks, on the walls, on a long table. Rifles, pistols, boxes of ammunition, black objects I didn't recognize. In the corner, there was a table with a map spread out, communication devices, small screens glowing. Several men stood there, all dressed in black, all freezing when they saw Alexandro. Alexandro walked to the table. He looked at the map, then stared at one of the men there.

After exchanging glances, the young eyes of the team members burned with intensity. "Let’s get to it then!" ... "Begin collecting your weapons and equipment. Each team can take up to two rifles, five handguns, five sets of standard combat uniforms, and a maximum of three close-combat weapons per person…" Instructor Tahn’s voice echoed. Each team began to collect their gear in an orderly manner. Lancelot picked up an assault rifle, four magazines, a handgun with four magazines as well. All the magazines were filled with blank rounds. He also picked a pair of metal gauntlets. When the fingers pulled a mechanism inside, blades would extend at the joints, a standard-issue military equipment.

August's POV I just ignored the evil looks that Scarlet was throwing at me. No one has yet died from the evil eye. He might even get sore eyes because of what he does. We are here again in the training room and there are different guns on the long table. There are snipers, M16, shotguns, and caliber 45 pistols. Draco said we're going to do disarming. They wanted to see how fast we are to disassemble a gun. I just looked at the guns. This is not new to me because it is one of the training at PMA and it was not easy because the grade depends on whether you can pass or not. I am confident that I can do it easily.

The vehicle came to a stop, and the doors swung open in unison, revealing five figures stepping out with precision and purpose. Each carried weapons that screamed military-grade lethality. One man held an FN SCAR 17, its tan finish almost blending with his tactical gear, the attached suppressor ready to keep things quiet. A woman stepped down, cradling a compact MP5 submachine gun with a reflex sight, her gloved fingers resting lightly on the trigger guard. Another had an M4A1 carbine slung over his shoulder, the grenade launcher attachment gleaming faintly in the low light. Two others brought up the rear, one with a Remington 870 tactical shotgun and the other wielding dual Glock 17 pistols

Iris 20:00 “YOU’RE LATE!” “You’re early,” I said as I wandered around the small armory room. They had a good supply of guns for a small group; automatic guns like AK-47, two sniper rifles, handguns, knives, boxes of ammunition, had several explosives like hand grenades and putty. I thanked my brother who introduced me to the different types of weapons back at their base. I learned how to shoot, some tricks, and self-defense.

Kirou raised an eyebrow but accepted the knife nonetheless. "Now that that's out of the way, allow me to tell you what Weapon Masters are. Weapon Masters are people capable of using all weapons in existence. The only limitation on what a Weapon Master can use is that he must have the required skill to use each weapon. Let's take for example those three weapons," Bladesmith pointed at a wrack in the corner with a sword, a lance, and an axe on it. "For those weapons over there, as long as you know how to use them and your body is strong enough to wield them, then it doesn't matter because you will be able to equip them and fight with them. Depending on the weapons themselves, you might even be

He looked like devil in uniform—unrealistically broad, calm, dangerous in a way that made the mounted lions in the hunting room look like playful kittens. Weapons were next. He laid them out on the well-lived oak table as if we were playing cards: Glock 17, black polymer, grip rough enough to sandpaper fingerprints. Heckler & Koch MP5, compact, folding stock, whisper suppressor already mounted. Ka-Bar knives, edges blackened, sheaths worn smooth from too many last resorts. A pouch of grenades that looked like toys until you imagined your lungs shredded across a wall. I ran a finger along the Glock’s slide. It was cold, simple and honest. Tools of death are always more honest than the mouths

He smiled. "MK153 Shoulder-launched Multi-Purpose Assault Weapon. 83.5 Millimeter Rockets. 7.6 pounds. Maximum range 500 meters." I rattled the info off in one breath, tone, hard. As if schooling a poolee or a boot. I looked straight past him, remembering, wondering what it all meant. "Oorah," he said with a smile, blowing into his hands, the Marine coming out in him. I forced a smile on his behalf. He nodded in approval with a smile that told me he found comfort, someone who'd seen what he had. "What about you?"