Panama 1989....enough said about that
In Iraq, I was armed with a MRK-19 mounted on a Hummer, so never got close enough to anybody to recieve small arms fire.
When I came back home in '92 (I was 23), I went deer hunting with my dad. I had just come over the top of a ridge over a ravine when I heard the familiar "ZZZzzzzzzr" then an immediate report from a high caliber rifle. I threw myself face first in the snow by instinct. Sat there for a second, and then my brain completly disengaged. I stood up, threw my rifle back down into the snow, pulled the .357 from its holster and began yelling "Stick your head out you so-and-so cause I'm gonna blow your frick'n head off!" I remember firing a couple shots aimlessly and yellin something like "I'm leaving one bullet in here for you". I then started about 30 feet down the hill towards where the shot came from when fear came over me. Not fear of being shot at, but fear that I would have honestly killed the SOB if I had seen him. I stopped in my tracks, yelled a couple more profanitys , went back up to look for my rifle and then went back the way I came.
In Panama, you learned to keep your head down and would even joke with your buddys when bullets were zing'n overhead, I guess fear manifests itself in different ways in different situations.
I didn't go deer hunting for several years after that, and am still leary during rifle season.
BTW, I was wearing a hunter orange jacket with an orange cap (Not required in Idaho). My guess is he or she saw movement coming over the top of the ridge and shot.