On my first trip to the grenade range back in 1976 I was waiting for my turn to throw, with two of Royal Ordnance's finest primed and clutched in my sweaty mitts. From the next bay we could hear the instructor's voice...
It seems that everyone has a hand grenade story so here's mine:
During training we reported to the grenade range and the first few throws from the bays went exactly as the pamphlet intended, however the fourth or fifth grenade to be lobbed was a blind. For some reason, the Platoon Commander decided that it would hold up the range too much to go and find it and blow it up so he 'made a mental note of where it had landed' and got us to crack on.
Unsurprisingly, after another twenty odd grenades had been thrown nearby, it wasn't where he last saw it when it came round to getting the dems box out at the end of the practice.
His solution? Get us in an extended line from the throwing bay and advance up the range looking for this unexploded (and likely shrapnel encrusted) grenade! Despite having only a few weeks service under our belts, even we thought this was a bad idea but got on with it until it was located somewhere in the long grass and finally disposed of. How we laughed, not.