Dublin University Rifle Club (DURC) : a society under attack
DURC is possibly located in the dodgiest looking area of Trinity. Last Thursday I took a notion to go down for half an hour to shoot. In order to get to the Rifle Club I had to venture over towards the Civil Engineering Building, which was daunting enough in itself. Directions from the website ( Dublin University Rifle Club ) brought me down one of the darkest, dreariest alleyways that I’ve come across, and willingly walked down since I came to Dublin. I was immediately skeptical when I saw the doorway, absolutely nothing like Front Arch, a little, green, rusting tin door with DURC stenciled across it, set high into the wall so that you have to simultaneously climb up and crouch down if you want to get in.
I walked into this place expecting to see a vase of flowers and maybe a painting hung on the wall, so when I was met by a very hairy, Jesus look-a-like figure and escorted down into a grungy basement with heavy metal playing in the background, I was ready to accept that this would be a very strange Thursday night. I was left sitting in a room with a low-ceiling, couches, chairs and a very fancy looking tea-making device with a definite sense of dread. The room was very “lived-in”, with quotes on the fridge and presses, a little wall with members best target cards pinned up and photos of members stuck up. After a few minutes I was shown into the “Range”. Now I had imagined rifle shooting would take place in a clean, minimal, edgy space, with a row of maybe ten people shooting, cordoned off into their own little booth, wearing googles, ear-muffs, and generally looking very cool. It was absolutely nothing like this. There was enough space for maybe two to shoot, surrounded my a mass of sparkling tinsel and walls that were about to give way at any minute.
I was in to shoot .22, which meant absolutely nothing to me so I was reassured when a gun was involved, not so much when I was told to lie on the floor. In hindsight, I probably should have looked up different guns and the different equipment that is involved. I probably should have made sure to visit this site, or one similar to it beforehand. But it was too late now, and it wasn’t really the end of the world, I still managed to figure out what needed to be done. The aim was to line up the sights of the gun with the target and shoot at it, while being extremely careful and not leaving the bolt closed (this is very important). I was allowed to shoot away (using proper bullets!) while one of the Range Officers kept an eye on me. It was all very repetitive though, the target didn’t move and I wasn’t supposed to be moving either, there was however a nice smell after firing each shot. I kept this charade up for a while but eventually I wanted to see how I’d done. This involved walking down to the very end of the room, which has a very deceptive ceiling, that gets lower as you get further to the end where the targets are hung up. I was praised for hitting the targets which was nice, if only ever so slightly patronising. My half hour was just up and I was invited in for some tea which didn’t seem like the worst idea, besides another guy with long hair and a beard had turned up, so the party was obviously about to kick off soon.
Now as a college student I’ve gotten used to drinking a lot of tea, some of which isn’t the best. I’d like to believe I have a fairly strong tolerance for “bad” tea, but this was Indian, it was cold, and it was strong. It came out of a carved wooden box with an elephant on the top and tasted as though some part of an elephant was still in there. However, I’ve been assured this is not the usual tea, and there were biscuits, which was kind of impressive. I stayed for about half an hour of sexist comments and then made the decision to go, visiting the toilet first. This has to have been the highlight of the night, because just outside the toilet there was a lovely little sign with an arrow pointing to the door with “Book of Kells” written on it.
With the idea that “it’s nice when you fire a shot and hear an ambulance drive by” still fresh in my mind, I doubt I’ll be returning to the dark, under-ground world of rifle shooting soon.
Mary-Ellen Cullinan
