“Sanchez has never said anything about anchoring the shields by digging them into the ground or even angling them for that matter.” The Sergeant said. “Where did you learn to do that?”

Andrew thought quickly and came up with what he hoped was a reasonable explanation.

“Football practice.” They all looked at him like he was some sort of idiot. “You know where you hold up one of those pads so the other guy can tackle you or push you, right?”

This at least got some response from the guys in the form of several nods.

“Well, I was thinking about the shields watching the others get shot, and I couldn’t help remembering how in football practice, the big guys would just push me out of the way or push me over and then stomp over the pad, with me underneath it.” This description got a few snickers from a couple of the guys. “So I thought that I’d try digging my shield into the ground when it was my turn to be a target. I’ve done that before but more as an experiment to see if I could do it rather than because I thought it would add to my ability to defend against someone shooting at me.”

And hopefully, they would believe him. He had read about the idea of digging the shields into the ground to defend against bullets from the journal his grandmother had left. He was going to have to be careful about what he did in the future and plan ahead, so he had reasoned arguments for doing whatever it was that he did that nobody else had done or could even do, for that matter.

“Can you color your shield like that you just did so we can see the angle it is at when you get shot?” Duncan asked.

“Sure thing, Sergeant.” He said and then turned and trotted down to the target.

He colored the shield and angled it without digging it into the ground. He tried to brace himself and gave the signal for the soldier to shoot. The bullet slammed into the shield and angled off somewhere. Clearly, the angling worked well as he hadn’t been knocked off his feet or even pushed backward. It had jarred a little mentally but nowhere near as much as the straight-on shot had done. He trotted back to the Sergeant.

“Can everybody see that?” When they all nodded or indicated yes and otherwise, he continued. “I have no idea where the bullet went as it ricocheted up and past me, I’m pretty sure. I’m not entirely certain because I closed my eyes.”

This admission brought a few snickers from the others.

“We’ll leave the angling idea till after I’ve discussed the matter with Corporal Sanchez. Meanwhile, do you want to have another go, Contos?”

Contos nodded. “I’ll try and jam my shield into the ground. It may take me a few moments.”

“That’s fine, Contos. I’ll warn the sniper you might be a little while working out Harris’s ground digging thing.”