tmccray45
Member
I too have a few Russian rifles (three 91/30's, 2 M44's, 2 SKS's, and one Makarov pistol. I really enjoy taking them all to the range.
"Stubbicatt" triggered a memory from my childhood having to do with the Soviet Union.
I too remember having the "duck 'n cover" drills in elementary school. "If you see a bright flash, get under your desk as quickly as you can and link your hands behind your neck." As I recall, the Soviet Union was this nebulous unseen hoard of people who had nothing but hatred of everything that the bright and virtuous United States stood for.
Then, in 5th grade, my eyes were opened a bit. Mrs. Lewis was the teacher that will always be my favorite teacher - the teacher that believed in questioning everything. She taught us French, we watched advanced science movies, she taught a bit of algebra and geometry, and we were all encouraged to read much beyond our grade level. She even went out in the woods, picked some wild mushrooms, and cooked them in class so that we could experience "foreign" foods. (I lived in a fairly poor area of a county outside Washington, DC.)
One day, Mrs. Lewis announced a class trip. We were going to take a school bus into Washington DC and were going to visit the embassy of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics - the USSR. (This would have been in 1955 - McCarthyism was still running strong. The worst thing you could be was a "commie".)
I remember walking down the street with the rest of the class and turning into the grounds of the embassy. We went through the doors of a rather imposing Victorian building and the whole time I was thinking that all of us were going to be kidnapped, taken to the Soviet Union, forced into a labor camp, and we would never see our parents again.
A member of the embassy staff came out, gave us a brief talk and handed out copies of a big magazine called "Soviet Life". Inside were pictures of happy peasants harvesting wheat, happy factory workers making stoves and refrigerators, happy children in school. Not a picture of a jet or tank could be seen. He served cookies to our class - again, I was sure that they were laced with a drug that would make us compliant with their wishes. (Remember this was 5th grade and my imagination knew no bounds. . .)
After we finished our cookies, the embassy finally "released" us and after the bus ride back, we returned to the embrace of our mothers and fathers. I kept my copy of "Soviet Life" for many years, but during one of my moves, it was misplaced. (Because it was 1955, I'm sure that the entire class was photographed as we made our way into, and then out of, the embassy. Some "government man" had to wonder why those kids were going to visit the Soviet embassy. Perhaps it was a mass defection.)
"Stubbicatt" triggered a memory from my childhood having to do with the Soviet Union.
I too remember having the "duck 'n cover" drills in elementary school. "If you see a bright flash, get under your desk as quickly as you can and link your hands behind your neck." As I recall, the Soviet Union was this nebulous unseen hoard of people who had nothing but hatred of everything that the bright and virtuous United States stood for.
Then, in 5th grade, my eyes were opened a bit. Mrs. Lewis was the teacher that will always be my favorite teacher - the teacher that believed in questioning everything. She taught us French, we watched advanced science movies, she taught a bit of algebra and geometry, and we were all encouraged to read much beyond our grade level. She even went out in the woods, picked some wild mushrooms, and cooked them in class so that we could experience "foreign" foods. (I lived in a fairly poor area of a county outside Washington, DC.)
One day, Mrs. Lewis announced a class trip. We were going to take a school bus into Washington DC and were going to visit the embassy of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics - the USSR. (This would have been in 1955 - McCarthyism was still running strong. The worst thing you could be was a "commie".)
I remember walking down the street with the rest of the class and turning into the grounds of the embassy. We went through the doors of a rather imposing Victorian building and the whole time I was thinking that all of us were going to be kidnapped, taken to the Soviet Union, forced into a labor camp, and we would never see our parents again.
A member of the embassy staff came out, gave us a brief talk and handed out copies of a big magazine called "Soviet Life". Inside were pictures of happy peasants harvesting wheat, happy factory workers making stoves and refrigerators, happy children in school. Not a picture of a jet or tank could be seen. He served cookies to our class - again, I was sure that they were laced with a drug that would make us compliant with their wishes. (Remember this was 5th grade and my imagination knew no bounds. . .)
After we finished our cookies, the embassy finally "released" us and after the bus ride back, we returned to the embrace of our mothers and fathers. I kept my copy of "Soviet Life" for many years, but during one of my moves, it was misplaced. (Because it was 1955, I'm sure that the entire class was photographed as we made our way into, and then out of, the embassy. Some "government man" had to wonder why those kids were going to visit the Soviet embassy. Perhaps it was a mass defection.)