Growing up, my father was really good friends with a doctor who was a P-47 pilot during WWII. I was maybe 11 at the time, he was about 70 years old. One day he was over at our place while my dad and I were shooting. I was shooting my father's Colt 1911A1 at some cans that were on a steel drum 15-20 yards away. I was pretty pleased with myself that I was hitting them. After I set it down he came over to me and said, "hey, I'll bet you a buck I can hit one from the hip, on my first try," I shook hands and he had me run a can out to the yard barrel and I set it on top. I ran back, he loaded up a single round, took a sideways stance with the pistol pointing at the ground in front of him. He quickly jerked his the pistol up in front of his hip and took a shot. Sure enough he nailed that can. It was cool. Afterward he recounted a story about when he was based in England and wasn't flying, they would always spend a couple of hours shooting to keep their reflexes up. He said all of these cocky fighter pilots were so competitive and would always try and outdo each other.