Give us some gun stories!

[LeonCarr]

Ok, another one

Way back about my freshman year of college, I was deer hunting opening morning on about 1600 acres in West Texas southwest of Abilene. One of the fellas I was hunting with that morning was an 85 year old cotton farmer shooting a sporterized 03-A3 Springfield .30-06. We had finished hunting that morning, and about ten or so Dad and I were shooting the breeze with the farmer and his son, leaning up against the farmer's 3/4 ton chevy pickup. About that time I saw a six point whitetail walking along a fence line directly behind the farmer. I said, "Hey Johnny, behind you about 250 yards, six point". Making sure not to muzzle any of us, he swung the rifle around like a shotgun and shot that buck standing offhand at 250 yards, with a perfect neck shot. Some might call it luck, but his son said, "aw that ain't nothin...you should see some of the shots he makes on doves".

Sadly, Johnny passed away in 2001 at the age of 95. I will never forget the man, or that shot he made.

Just my .02,
LeonCarr

 

[A Cleaner]

Not funny, but I learned not to doubt the lady of the house.

First time out to the range with my girlfriend...she jumps almost a foot after the range goes hot (we entered whilst cold) and some giant of a man is discharging his .45 right next to us. I begin to think, "Oh no, maybe this wasn't a good idea. She's just gonna be scared and jumpy and not enjoy any of it." Well, his next shot, she jumps about 6 inches. Next shot, 3 inches. Next shot, barely a flinch. I load up the .22 Ruger pistol, hand it to her, step back, and she proceeds to, I kid you not, put all rounds in the 9 ring at 10 yds. Proud day. I wanted to run right out and buy her a .22 of her very own. She's been eager to shoot ever since.

 

[CTI1USNRET]

A gun story - kind of.

Keeping with the spirit of things I'll start off by informing you that The Philippines is not a shall issue state.

This happened just outside of Olongapo City sometime before Pinatubo blew its top. I'd been sent to Subic Bay to await the arrival of the USS Reeves CG-24. I would be temporarily assigned to it for about three months. When my plane landed I got word that the ship was delayed and there was no telling when it would come in. Hating the barracks, I crossed Sh.t River into Olongapo City to find my "procurer". I'll call him Esteban. He was 15 years old. I told him I needed a house to rent for a week or two within bicycling distance of the base. We met again at the "Runway" the next day. He'd arranged for a family to vacate their small house (about three miles from the base) for $150. We'd had this arrangement several times over the years. So I moved in. Since the NPA (New Peoples Army) were active in the area, for $25 Esteban rented me a 1911 with two mags (14 rounds of ball) and a Remington 870 pump with 4 rounds of 00 buck. (Both weapons were probably stolen from the base many years prior.) Anyway, a very boring week went by. I spent it keeping my materials up to date and preparing a brief for the CO, and ... uh ... recreating. Then, my command in Japan called me back to pick up some new gear that they wanted me to try during my TAD. I'd be gone for four days and I asked Esteban to house sit for me. So I went back to Misawa. Four days later I returned and rode my rented bike back to the house. Oh crap. There were flies buzzing all over the place. I found pools of dried blood, an ear, and a tooth on the stoop and the front door was full of bullet holes, small caliber and shotgun. 9mm cases were all over the yard. Inside, on the opposite cinderblock wall, were lotsa bullet marks. There were so many spent bullets it was like walking on marbles. Four 12 GA hulls were under the archway into the kitchen. No blood in the house. I grabbed the 1911 from its hidyhole and left, returned the bike and stayed on the base for two days. I went back to the "Runway" and left word with the mamasan (nicknamed Jaws) that I wanted to see Esteban and that I'd be there every night at eight o'clock. He showed up the 2nd night - Thank God. He told me that while I was away the NPA had sent some guys to kidnap me or kill me. But they were so totally drunk when they got to the house that they started arguing about it on the stoop. Esteban opened up on them with the shotgun right through the door and got two of them. One or two other guys returned automatic fire through the door, threw their wounded into the truck and then drove away. Esteban ran away too. He was keeping a low profile and was really scared the NPA would find out he was the one in the house. He was thinking of trying his business in Angeles. I gave him $200 and never saw him again. I don't know if the family ever moved back in or what happened to them. For all I know they might have helped set me up.

I was very relieved to board the ship a few days later. Started worrying about somebody finding the pistol so I deep sixed it in the South China Sea one night. I kept the whole thing to myself until just a year or two ago. (I retired in '97.) The Subic base commander had set a curfew due to the murders of several US Marines by the NPA in Angeles and I wasn't supposed to be living off base.

Sometimes ya get lucky.

Neither Esteban nor the NPA had no stinkin' permits.

 

[Old Dog]

I was living in the Bay Area (CA) in the mid-80s; had a great house in Alameda but didn’t really like the fact that my neighbor’s house on one side was quite close to ours, perhaps ten feet separated our outside walls with a six-foot cedar plank fence between the houses, which coincidentally was the area where both of our families kept our garbage cans. One summer night in the wee hours, my wife shook me awake, hissing that she heard loud noises from the side of our house and thought someone was trying to break in the window of the spare bedroom … on that side of the house where we kept our trash cans.

Retrieving my Mossberg 500 from under my side of the bed, I quietly (fully carpeted house) tiptoed out of our bedroom (without pause to put on any clothing), peeped into the spare bedroom and, seeing nothing amiss nor any apparent attempt to penetrate from the outside window, went into the back sun-room, quietly slid open the glass sliding door, creeping across the patio, shotgun at the low ready … I crossed around the back corner of the house toward the front of the house, activating the motion-sensing floodlights and startling the large tomcat standing on top of one of our two galvanized garbage cans …

At this very moment, hearing the fence next to me creak, I instinctively racked the shotgun, pulled it up and looked up to see my 70-something neighbor lady peering over the top of the fence (she must have been standing on a stepladder or something) … She shrieked very loudly, and I was never quite certain whether it was from the shock of having a 12-gauge briefly pointed at her or seeing a large, buck-naked man standing outside in the middle of the night. Although she was always pleasant and polite to me afterward, she always got this strange look on her face every time we encountered each other again …

 

[Werewolf]

Although she was always pleasant and polite to me afterward, she always got this strange look on her face every time we encountered each other again …

Did that strange look maybe have a come on quality about it....?

 

[benEzra]

A friend's stepfather went deer hunting for many years and never got a deer due mostly to bad luck. He finally got his chance when a moderate-sized buck surprised him at fairly close range while he was walking back from his stand, I think. Overcome with buck fever, he opened up on the deer with his 12-gauge pump shotgun and the deer bolted. When the gun was shot dry, he looked at the ground and there were two fired hulls and two unfired shells--he had been so excited he was pumping the gun faster than he was shooting...he reloaded the unfired shells and found the deer a couple dozen yards away...

 

[rhubarb]

A few years ago I was invited to hunt on a 7000 acre lease near Del Rio, Texas. As I didn’t have a rifle, someone at work loaned me a .270. He informed me that it should be sighted in, as he hadn’t shot it in years. When I got home, I drove around back of the house to shoot it right away. I set up some paper plates against the canal bank 80-90 yards behind the house and loaded the gun. Offhand, I couldn’t hold the gun steady enough so I leaned across the roof of the car. A convertible Mustang. I drew a bead on the center of one of the paper plates and fired. The concussion of the shot asploded a hole two feet across in the soft top of my car right over the driver seat. The bullet found its mark dead center in the plate and later in a deer, but a new convertible top costs more than a rifle. :banghead:

 

[Strings]

Werewolf: the question isn't if the looks were a "come on", but if Mrs Old Dog started getting looks of sympathy...

 

[onrhander]

Two shotgun stories

Frist related to me by a frend abouttwo other muital frends. Kenny was(and still is) agreat shooter,he started me shooting skeet and trap.Bud was an old farmer who also liked to shoot.One day after (barely)beating Kenny ,Kenny asked what are you useing for your loads? Bud replys "My special hand loads, wanta try a box? Kenny sez sure,so they start to shoot another round. Six birds in Kenny hasen't hit one.Sez to Bud,"what in the hell is the shot in these shells? Bud sez"Rice you dumb ass I sure got you this time."(Kenny at this time shooting in the top 100 or better in national contests.) :banghead: Second story. A pal and I were headed home from the ramge one Saterday nite.Doug sez "lets go to the A&W and see what's going on.This involed going cross country on a drit back road.About half way we were stoped by four guys with a(seeming)broken down car.Doug stops and gets out(bad move) asks "what's wrong? One of the guy replies,in poor english,"you give us all ride. Doug sez"we'll take one of you to a telephone."Guy sez "no we all go" they thenstart toward our car! At that point I reach into the backseat and grab dougs shotgun,open,chamber empty as per state law. Bring it out the window,rack it and point it at the four guys and say"get over behind your car." Nerviosly doug starts to ask what's going on?I yelled get in the freeking car and drive!He does and off we go.A mile or so down the road he asked '' where did you get the ammo(we had shot all we had at the range earler) I said "there isn't any it was a bluff but I was scared we were in deep dodo. Hope I never get in a simular situation again, but if I do the gun will be loaded.

 

[106rr]

Drafted

November 1966, Ft. Lewis Washington. We were a busload of teenagers from California starting basic at Ft Lewis. We were warned to get rid of all dope, weapons and pornography before the search. A surprising amount of dope and more than few weapons went into the garbage can. During the search the DI turned up a snub nose 38 special on one trainee. The DI asked loudly why he had disobeyed an order and kept the gun. The trainee responded that it was OK to have that particular gun because his mother gave it to him. The DI was dumfounded..The trainee then added that his mom thought there were a lot of bad people in the Army.
Later in basic, the same guy returned to his bunk after reveille (sp) despite the DI screaming. He had noticed it snowing outside and was sure the Army wouldn't make us train in the snow, remember we were from California. He was furious tha the DI turned his bunk over and made us train in the snow. He threatened to write his congressman about snow training!

 

[PeteRR]

Keep in mind that Jersey will lock you up for CC and permits are non-existent.

Right after 9/11 I started carrying illegally. I figured defending the country was more important than a silly law. One day while carrying my Taurus Model 608(3" SS bobbed hammer) in my local mall, I was in the Sam Goody store buying CD's. The pistol was in the inside jacket pocket of my winter coat(I'm a big guy and it carried there without showing). As I'm leaving the store, the security alarm goes off. My blood freezes. I'd heard that term before, but never really experienced it. I didn't stop or hesitate. I just kept walking knowing that any pat-down by a Mall cop would put me in jail or at least make me a felon. Of course my truck was parked on the otherside of the mall. That was the longest 5 minutes of my life. I've since stopped carrying. And now because my new job has me traveling across the country and I can live anywhere, I plan on moving out of Jersey as soon as possible.

 

[MLH]

Sharps Shooter

What we all want t know is if you kissed it and made it well!

 

[MLH]

Well

My story is from years ago when I was much younger. I was out plowing a field for spring planting. I was still cold so I had a heavy jacket on. I was also carrying a S & W .38 in a cowboy rig to shoot at the mice and such that you stir up when you plow (much fun! ) Well, I got to the end of one row and decided to get off and smoke a cig. I then turned on a wooden fence post and doing my best Palidin imitation I drew down and shot it! WHOP!!! it shoots back!! . The wood had petrified and the bullet bounced back and hit me in the chest! I was lucky that I had handloaded these shells and had not crimped them too tight. Bullet just bounced off the leather jacket and fell to the ground. Got lucky that day, but I don't challenge fence posts any more!

 

[Zundfolge]

I think I've told this one before but I'm too lazy to search.


So I'm standing in line at McDonald's and there is a guy there with his two kids, a boy and a girl. Boy about 5 or 6, girl about 7 or 8.

The boy and girl are running around, basically being obnoxious children at McDonald's (this is one of those McD's with a playground so the kids where probably more hyper then normal).

Well these two are running around playing tag around the people in line. The little boy isn't looking where he's going and he runs into me and SMACK his forehead hits the butt of my concealed Steyr S40 .

Well it made a loud smack noise and the father wheels around and looks at me ... at first I'm concerned he'll think I did something to his boy (who is standing there with a puzzled look on his face rubbing a red spot on his forehead), but he just looks at me as if to say "sorry for the brats", then calls his boy over and makes him stand still for a bit.

The look on the kid's face was just hilarious ... his forehead hurt, but it was clear that he was just more confused by the fact that my hip was so hard.

 

[Sharps Shooter]

Several times.