Post your weird gun stories

[Poper]

True story, and really, just one of those things that happen....usually to me.
Anyway, about 15 years ago, I was hunting pheasants with several buddies and my younger brother . We drove a mile down a section line road, parked the trucks and let the dogs out. (All four of them.) Kids, dogs, buds, and all the ruckus we can make in a relatively small area. Just as the walking plan was being implemented Mother Nature insisted I relieve myself of solid waste.
Everyone else took off and I leaned my gun in the notch created by a tailgate and a fender, grabbed a roll of tp and walked over to the field corner post. I no more than I dropped my drawers and a rooster busted cackling out of the tall grass about 4' to my right. Made me dang near jump out of what pants I was still in! I quit cussing and settled in to complete the job I began and as the first of my droppings hit the ground two more roosters broke cover within an arms length to my left! That was the signal (I thought) to get my shotgun, just in case. Too late. They were all gone and I completed my mission.

To this day I am amazed at how those birds stayed so close with all those dogs and people around, and none of the dogs caught their scent!
Lesson learned. Never respond to Mother Nature without your gun in your hand!

 

[FROGO207]

Some years ago I was in the back corner of the 10 acre field behind my grandfathers house hunting White Tail from the tree line. As it was the end of the hunting day and looking at my watch indicated I needed to unload my 30-30. So being young and not so smart I turned at a 45* angle to me where there was an old trash dump full of metal stuff and taking aim at an old washing machine I proceeded to put 5 holes in the center of the front cover. Then I kneel down using the rifle like a walking stick and start to pick up the spent brass. As I look up a 12 pointer trots out from behind the scrap pile and disappears into the other corner of the woods not 25 feet from me. That was the last time I only carried five rounds with me.

 

[climbnjump]

Lesson learned. Never respond to Mother Nature without your gun in your hand!

In a related situation... I was deer hunting from a tree stand and a couple hours after sunup, the early morning coffee I had drunk needed to be disposed of. I carried a P bottle in my pack for such events, my pack being tucked away under the seat. I quietly stood up, turned around, placed my rifle on the seat which was now in front of me, got down on my knees (most stable position for the task), dug the bottle out of my pack and proceeded. While holding the bottle in one hand and my other "gun" in the other hand, I caught a flash of brown coming through the woods toward my tree so I froze in that position. It was a very large doe and she took about 5 minutes to pick her way slowly through the brush and ultimately walked directly under my tree. After she passed by and was about 30 yards away, I slowly capped the bottle so it wouldn't spill, picked up my rifle off the seat and while still on my knees, twisted almost 180 degrees. Due to the angle, I couldn't get the butt of the gun on my shoulder so made the shot with it against my bicep - she was about 50 yards away at that time. After the shot, I finally had the opportunity to put the other "gun" back where it belonged. And that .308 Win left a really colorful bruise on my bicep...

It made for a pretty good deer camp story for a few years afterward. But the most amazing thing about it was that about 10 years later, it happened again. It was a different stand in another section of woods and a different rifle, but the sequence of events was exactly the same.

 

[Armored farmer]

This story didn't happen to me, but to my good friend.
He was caribou hunting somewhere in the far north, above the Arctic Circle. The terrain was gentle rolling hills of tundra, strewn with a few rocks. It went on for endless miles. He had a native guide that finally put him in front of a nice bull. For some reason they didn't have a rangefinder but both estimated the range at under 400yds. Kevin is a good shot and successful elk guide in his own right, so he settles his ruger all weather 7mm mag and fires. The shot was a hit, but the bull jumped and began limping away another round was chambered and fired, this time the bull went down. They knew it had been a long shot, so they headed for the trophy by stepping off the distance. As he passed the 600 yd Mark, the bull started getting up. Another shot put him down for good. Closer inspection revealed the first two shots went through the left front ankle and the right rear ankle! Apparently the lack of any type of landmarks has an affect on your ability to judge distance.
As they caped and quartered the bull, the native guide consumed quite a bit of raw caribou, including the muscles behind the eyeballs, as was the custom of his people. (No firewood to be had for many miles.)

That happened on 9/11/2001. He had a rough time getting a flight back to the USA.

 

[Giterboosted]

I took a little break from thr because of life getting too hectic, this is the first thread I picked back up and wow it's been so very enjoyable. Keep them coming everyone!

 

[Speedo66]

Another story. I'm hunting in a wooded area in the Catskills in upstate NY, in position at least a half hour before light. I start hearing grunting noises and a ruckus pretty close to me. There are no wild boar in that area, and they weren't any sounds a deer would make. I figured it was a bear, which is not unusual in the mountains there.

So now I start to think: I can't see squat, and I have some PB&J sandwiches for lunch in my pack which it may be smelling. My mindset went from hunter to hunted. It was not a feeling I'd wish to repeat. I guess I could have opted to make a racket to try and scare it away, but I would have spooked every deer in the valley, and I'm sure my hunting partners would not have been amused. So I opted to just sit there and be a little scared. lol

 

[Merle1]

Another story. I'm hunting in a wooded area in the Catskills in upstate NY, in position at least a half hour before light. I start hearing grunting noises and a ruckus pretty close to me. There are no wild boar in that area, and they weren't any sounds a deer would make. I figured it was a bear, which is not unusual in the mountains there.

So now I start to think: I can't see squat, and I have some PB&J sandwiches for lunch in my pack which it may be smelling. My mindset went from hunter to hunted. It was not a feeling I'd wish to repeat. I guess I could have opted to make a racket to try and scare it away, but I would have spooked every deer in the valley, and I'm sure my hunting partners would not have been amused. So I opted to just sit there and be a little scared. lol

so what happened next ????

 

[Speedo66]

so what happened next ????

What do you think, I got killed. lol

The noise stopped after a while, I breathed easier, no bear sightings once it was light. Friends heard it also, just not as close.

When I was younger, I hunted further in the Catskills with a NYC neighbor who had a cabin up there. He shot a bear, skinned it, and it being below freezing, hung it from a tree in his front yard. Sheriff stopped by and asked him to hang it in his unattached garage, neighbor had called in screaming someone had been lynched there.

 

[Shanghai McCoy]

so what happened next ????

I'd of just eaten the sandwiches to get rid of the "bait"...

 

[Armybrat]

What do you think, I got killed. lol

The noise stopped after a while, I breathed easier, no bear sightings once it was light. Friends heard it also, just not as close.

When I was younger, I hunted further in the Catskills with a NYC neighbor who had a cabin up there. He shot a bear, skinned it, and it being below freezing, hung it from a tree in his front yard. Sheriff stopped by and asked him to hang it in his unattached garage, neighbor had called in screaming someone had been lynched there.

Apparently Bears' Lives Matter too.

 

[NIGHTLORD40K]

Got a couple good Kabooms....lemmme see now.....
Had a "Tanker" Ishapore Enfield- first time I shot it, the upper band and lower stock forward of the lower band shot off and flew 20feet downrange. RSO called ceasefire, everyone staring at me......very embarrassing. It appeared that after shortening the stock, they had simply inserted a dowel pin between the halves under the band to hold them together, no glue or screws...sheesh.

Had one of them Polish Pps43 semi-auto conversions- first time I shot it, the two halves of the receiver separated, the bolt and spring flew away and hit the observation window behind me, the mag dropped out and loose rounds went everywhere. RSO called ceasefire, everyone staring at me...... very embarrassing. Turns out they had bent the upper receiver catch when they had added the fire control unit, allowing the action to come open. Kinda scary in a blowback.....sheesh.

I've got a beautiful hard-chromed M1903 MK1, ex-parade rifle- first time I shot it, the trigger guard came loose, action jumped up out of the stock, floorplate came open and loose rounds went everywhere. RSO called ceasefire, everyone staring at me.....the kid next to me whistled, "Nice Springfield, mister."

 

[Merle1]

What do you think, I got killed. lol

The noise stopped after a while, I breathed easier, no bear sightings once it was light. Friends heard it also, just not as close.

When I was younger, I hunted further in the Catskills with a NYC neighbor who had a cabin up there. He shot a bear, skinned it, and it being below freezing, hung it from a tree in his front yard. Sheriff stopped by and asked him to hang it in his unattached garage, neighbor had called in screaming someone had been lynched there.

Nope, but I wondered what is was - and if you had to change underwear....

 

[Merle1]

Got a couple good Kabooms....lemmme see now.....
Had a "Tanker" Ishapore Enfield- first time I shot it, the upper band and lower stock forward of the lower band shot off and flew 20feet downrange. RSO called ceasefire, everyone staring at me......very embarrassing. It appeared that after shortening the stock, they had simply inserted a dowel pin between the halves under the band to hold them together, no glue or screws...sheesh.

Had one of them Polish Pps43 semi-auto conversions- first time I shot it, the two halves of the receiver separated, the bolt and spring flew away and hit the observation window behind me, the mag dropped out and loose rounds went everywhere. RSO called ceasefire, everyone staring at me...... very embarrassing. Turns out they had bent the upper receiver catch when they had added the fire control unit, allowing the action to come open. Kinda scary in a blowback.....sheesh.

I've got a beautiful hard-chromed M1903 MK1, ex-parade rifle- first time I shot it, the trigger guard came loose, action jumped up out of the stock, floorplate came open and loose rounds went everywhere. RSO called ceasefire, everyone staring at me.....the kid next to me whistled, "Nice Springfield, mister."

I'm seeing kind of a pattern here.....

 

[climbnjump]

Apparently the lack of any type of landmarks has an affect on your ability to judge distance.

I had a similar experience when caribou hunting in AK. Although I had a range finder, there was too much water in the air for it to function. It wasn't exactly fog and wasn't exactly mist but just very wet air. I have not experienced anything like it before or since. I saw a caribou at what I estimated to be about 200 yards which is the range I had my rifle zeroed for. I set up and took the shot. Due to the moisture in air, I could actually see the trace of the bullet almost like a contrail behind a jet so was able see that the shot went underneath the rib cage of the 'bou. He stood there like a statue, so I raised my aim and the next round was a heart shot. Turned out he was almost 350 yards way so I was quite a ways off in my estimation. Thinking about it afterwards, I believe the issue was a body size calibration error in my cranial calculator. I mostly hunt deer sized animals and I think that the 'bou at 350 yards looked to be about the same size as a deer at about 200.

 

[Gelrir]

During WW2, my mother did some hunting with her grandfather, and he promised her that she'd inherit his shotgun. Alas, her mom wouldn't allow guns in the house (or something like that), so her grandfather kept the gun hidden in some hollow tree ... and of course he died without telling anyone where that was. Somewhere in Washington state is an old, rusty double ...

 

[birdshot8's]

I was on a lease on the Navasota river near College Station Texas. One area was not hunted due to the thickness of the post oaks. I was determined to find an usable opening where I could set up a bow blind. In the hot summer I found a spot and spent the day transporting boards and building the blind right along the river. I cut shooting lanes and knew I was going to get a swamp monster come October. After finishing the work, and quite pleased with my efforts I carried my tools back to the truck and since it was now evening time I decided to scout further thinking I might find some little pigs. It was relaxing to be out and I spent an hour or so just watching the river go by. Life was good. I was about to go, when I notice several nice boards bobbing along with the current, I was wishing I had them as I could make my new tree stand even better. As I trailed back towards my new blind I heard a chain saw fire up. When I came into the clearing, I see my buddy with the chainsaw and my tree falling. I scared him when I shouted. He said he did not know I was around since he had not seen my truck. He explained he had heard construction going on and found this blind, thinking poachers had built it on our ground. He had thrown the boards in the river and decided to cut the tree down to send a strong message to the "poachers" that had just built this tree stand.

 

[Alte Schule]

I was on a lease on the Navasota river near College Station Texas

I was going to say howdy neighbor but I see your in Nebraska. Use to go up that way every other year when A&M played the Huskers. Absolutely love that part of the country.

 

[welldoya]

Several years ago I was deer hunting, sitting on the side of a hill that sloped down to a creek. The hillside had been clear-cut and 3' - 4' broom grass now covered it. I was sitting in a 12' tripod stand, well camo'd holding a Browning A Bolt 30/06 with a Leupold scope on top.
I was watching the hillside when I happened to look down right in front of me, probably 20 yards away. At first I thought it was a fawn, then realized it was a coyote sitting there. The shot was so easy I almost felt guilty.
I put the crosshairs on him and pulled the trigger. Then I got down to go take a look............. NOTHING !
What the heck ? There's no way I missed a shot that easy. But apparently I did. No blood, nothing. To this day, I can't understand how I missed that 'yote.

 

[Gun Master]

Most of these stories have been about hunting.
Now for a true non-hunting story that happened to me.

When I was clearing up (or cleaning up) the back yard of a newly purchased home, I found an unusual trash heap.
It looked like a pile of burned charcoal, and I wondered why it was there (but the farther part was somewhat obscure).
As I began to dig/sweep into the pile, I saw a medium sized chunk that seemed to cling together.
Upon inspection, it seem to be a blackened chunk in the shape of a semi-auto pistol. My excitement banged from within.
More chipping and cleaning revealed a blackened, rusted "Ortgies".

Indeed, it was the remains of a Ortgies .32 ACP.
More polishing and rust removal (some with Naval Jelly), and I was able to get the slide to move back and forth on the frame.
After an ejector assembly, firing pin assembly, replacement fake stag grips, and 3 coats of cold blue, I had an operating (I shot it) pistol.
Mind you it had a lot of "pits", but a working gun.

A few days later I showed it to my next door neighbor, telling him the details.
He said his uncle left a box of old guns, which his kids played with, and my Ortgies looked like one of those.
Nothing was said further, and I kept the gun.

 

[Armored farmer]

He sad his uncle left a box of old guns, which his kids played with, and my Ortgies looked like one of those.
Nothing was said further, and I kept the gun.

Yikes.
Makes me wonder what happened to the rest of 'em?..!

I'm glad you got one.

 

[furburgler]

When I was young I remember hearing this story from my father.....and this also took place in northwest Ohio..Back in the day he used to coon hunt a lot. He said he had a pair of coon dogs that were the best dogs he ever owned. He said those dogs were fearless...... ( couldn't tell you what kind of dogs they were and I don't know much about coon hunting).... Anyways they went to this one woods that night that everybody always had stories about eerie stuff happening. This woods is about a 5 acre patch. He said he turned the dogs loose and they would not leave his feet. He walked in the woods with them and both dogs had their tales between their legs and were whimpering the whole time. He always said it couldn't be coyotes or a bobcat in the woods that night cause his dogs wouldn't of been scared. I know people were claiming to see a black panther in the area around that time frame but highly unlikely. In comic relief the old man used to frequent the local vfw and they had a guy rent the hall for a Bigfoot seminar and according to his migration maps Bigfoot passed through that woods.. who knows.. all I know is it freaked dad out a little bit that night and that story still gives me the creeps

 

[Armored farmer]

Bigfoot passed through that woods.. who knows.. all I know is it freaked dad out a little bit that night and that story still gives me the creeps

On the property next to ours.
Lol

 

[Gun Master]

Yikes.
Makes me wonder what happened to the rest of 'em?..!

I'm glad you got one.

Me too, but it made me feel kind of guilty!!! Even after all the time, work, and money I put into it ! What was I supposed to do ? Give it to him on his say so ? And his trash was on my property to boot.
He also had some other weird stories, like his wife shooting at him, while he ducked behind a tree.
The family was OK, but.....?
Oh, he never told anything about the other guns. And, I didn't ask. I just turned around and kept walking with my .32 ACP !

 

[Kano383]

I was on a buffalo hunt with a colleague, what is called "problem animal control", which is to shoot old bulls who destroy crops around villages. The buggers take residence in the vicinity, bully the villagers out of their way, and have themselves a great time in the sorghum fields - which is severely frowned upon by the local communities, as this is basically their livelyhood. Once in a while a buffalo kills some unfortunate soul, and then the level of discontent increases exponentially.

A couple of hours before sundown, we found a bachelor herd, 13-14 bulls in a raiding party. They were loafing around, some lying down to chew the cud, some grazing lazily. These herds are temporary arrangements, males only, comprised of old grumpy bulls that have lost interest in ladies and resent the crowded environment in large breeding herds, and of young bulls that are already in age to run after cows, but not yet fit enough to fight it out with the herd bulls - and take some time off to muscle up before coming back to show the ladies what a real bull is all about.

Long story short, we carefully stalked the herd, and got to 40-50 yards with the help of wind and cover. We spotted an old bull in a good position, I was on the binos calling the shots and my friend took aim. Bang!, a .416 zipped and hit, and all hell broke loose - of course. The whole herd took a run, crashing through the bushes, as I tried to keep my eyes on "ours" in the ruckus and the dust, expecting it to falter and fall as he was supposed to do with a heart shot.

Well, nothing but bulls' asses running away... Crap. We were both sure that it was a good shot, and wondered what had happened. We picked the tracks, the two of us and a tracker, and followed fast. The ground was good for tracking, and the buffalos being in numbers it was quite an easy job. The problem was that there was no blood, no limping track, nothing indicating that a wounded animal was in with them.

They kept running for a couple of kilometers, then we could see that the pace had slowed down. Twenty minutes later, we caught up with them in a forested area, walking slowly and grazing by now. Stalked again, and glassed them until we both said "Here it is!". One of the bulls looked like the one that was shot, same horns' shape. We kept watching him until he turned the right way, and there was the wound: open and bleeding on the left flank, what looked like a high lung shot. The strange thing was that he was grazing with the others: I had never seen a wounded buffalo behaving like that just after being shot.

We got closer, till my friend got a chance at a good shot, and Bang! again. This time, the bull ran thirty yards and nosedived, just like he was supposed to do, dead before we reached him. We turned him over to give a good look at the first shot, of course. And... Great Whisky Tango Foxtrot! That wound was open, bleeding slightly, but it was just an infected flesh wound, definitely not a gunshot! We inspected every square inch of that buffalo, and lo and behold, the only bullet hole in it was the one we just shot.

Here the head scratching became fierce. My friend is a very good shot, we were close, we both thought that we saw the hit... We both could not understand how he had missed that shot. As we went back to the car, I was still trying to understand what had happened. The sun had set, and it was quickly becoming dark. We went back to the place of the first shot, and he started looking for tracks where his buffalo was standing while I wandered around, loosely following the herds' departing tracks.

There was a clump of young trees, more like a big bush, and a running track going in. I went around the bush, the track went out the other side. But... Right in the middle of that bush, there lied a dead buffalo. With a .416 round through the heart.

By now we were six or seven, trackers, skinner, driver, and everybody roared in laughter!

Apparently, a buffalo was hidden in that bush, and when the wounded one came crashing in, he took off the other side... Now, how is that for a coincidence that in that herd there was another buff, same look as the first one, with a gaping wound in the same general area as the one that was shot?

 

[stoky]

luckiest shot I ever made, I'll now admit
New (to me) Ruger #1 in 7mm Rem Mag, in Waterton Canyon, with Martin Marietta visible waaay downrange, in the company of some way too serious varmint shooters, with rigs with barrels the diameter of sewer pipes and scopes that looked astronomical. This was on a ten thousand acre ranch, deeded to the owner's ancestors by President Grant.
Chambered an inordinately expensive 150gr custom load, out of one of the two boxes I'd bought at the same gun show. Tried to get an open sight picture on a prairie dog (no scope yet), hoping to at least see a dirt splash indicating how far off I was. The in situ range signs indicated that it was closer to four hundred yards than three. The oversize rat's color contrast was barely discernible from the background, but I lined it up as best I could and played with the trigger. The dog flipped over and moved no more.
Of course, I dared not fire again . All my focus was dedicated into not looking surprised, an effort I'd have to re-muster in response to comments long since.