BobWright
Member
One of the nice things about a new (to me) forum is I can tell my stories over again.
Here is the first handgun I ever shot, a Mauser M1910 in .25 ACP:
Sometime in the spring of 1946 my older brother returned from WW II, having served in England then in Germany in the occupation forces. He brought back this pistol, a WW II souvenier. The caliber stamped said "6,35" which was Greek to us. Dad took the gun to J.G. Schmidt's gun shop in Memphis and learned it was .25 ACP. Weel, Dad bought a box of cartridges, and the followinf Saturday we went down to my uncle's farm.
Now I was only about eight years old at the time, and we divided that box of cartridges three ways, Dad, my brother, and me. Each took their turn, me last. We placed a can atop a fence post and fired away. After they had finished their ammo allotment, the can still stood, unscathed. Confidently, I took my stance, going to show them how to shoot!
Incredulously, after shooting all but one of my allocated rounds, the can still stood! I determined then and there I was going to learn to shoot a handgun (the term handgun had yet to be invented then) and learn all about them that I could. Still learning.
Oh, the unfired round? It went into my pocket, to become the first specimen in my cartridge collection.
Bob Wright
P.S. After my brother's death, the Mauser went to his oldest son. Shortly before he was to die of cancer, my nephew gave to gun to me. Still have it.
Here is the first handgun I ever shot, a Mauser M1910 in .25 ACP:
Sometime in the spring of 1946 my older brother returned from WW II, having served in England then in Germany in the occupation forces. He brought back this pistol, a WW II souvenier. The caliber stamped said "6,35" which was Greek to us. Dad took the gun to J.G. Schmidt's gun shop in Memphis and learned it was .25 ACP. Weel, Dad bought a box of cartridges, and the followinf Saturday we went down to my uncle's farm.
Now I was only about eight years old at the time, and we divided that box of cartridges three ways, Dad, my brother, and me. Each took their turn, me last. We placed a can atop a fence post and fired away. After they had finished their ammo allotment, the can still stood, unscathed. Confidently, I took my stance, going to show them how to shoot!
Incredulously, after shooting all but one of my allocated rounds, the can still stood! I determined then and there I was going to learn to shoot a handgun (the term handgun had yet to be invented then) and learn all about them that I could. Still learning.
Oh, the unfired round? It went into my pocket, to become the first specimen in my cartridge collection.
Bob Wright
P.S. After my brother's death, the Mauser went to his oldest son. Shortly before he was to die of cancer, my nephew gave to gun to me. Still have it.