This is a true story.
This is a true story. It occurred in the late 1930's and was witnessed by my father, who was about six years old at the time. He lived in a small ranching community in southern Colorado.
Two men came to town to fight. (I don't know why.) They walked down the center of the main street from opposite ends of town. Unlike in the movies, there was no slapping of leather. Each man had drawn his pistol in advance and was carrying it in his hand. Also unlike in the movies, there was no discussion or ultimatums given. They just commenced to fire on each other as soon as they were within range, which was probably about 20 to 30 yards.
One man was armed with a Colt 1911, which was considered an exotic military weapon in those days. The other man was armed with a .22RF revolver, which was a typical sidearm among ranchers.
The man with the Colt was a lousy shot. He held his weapon in one hand and fired it as fast as he could pull the trigger, missing completely - not even close. The man with the .22 was a marksman. He stood with his feet perpendicular to his opponent, extended his right arm straight out and carefully and repeatedly shot his opponent in the chest.
The man with the Colt fell flat on his back and lay there gasping for breath. His muscles twitched and he drummed the heels of his boots on the ground. Apparently drawn by curiousity, the man with the .22 walked over and peered down at the man he had just shot. Not yet dead, the man on the ground raised his Colt and shot his opponent squarely in the chest, killing him instantly.
At this point the townsfolk, who had been standing on the sidewalk watching, came forward and attempted to perform first-aid on the man with the Colt - the other man was quite dead. My father stood in the background and watched. He thought, "That man is choking. They should roll him over so he can spit." Unfortunately, being only six years old, he did not speak up to tell the grown-ups how to perform first-aid.
They pulled the wounded man's shirt off and bandaged his wounds. That was stupid. It should have been clear that his problem was not the holes in his skin, which were barely bleeding. His problem was the bullets lodged in his lungs, six inches below the bandages that they were applying.
If they had rolled him over and cleared his airway, he might have lived. None of his wounds were grevious. In another ten minutes they would have stopped bleeding on their own. But the man did not live another ten minutes. Lying flat on his back, he drowned in the blood that was pooling in his lungs.
So there you have it: A real-life encounter between a man with a .45 and one with a .22 pistol. You can decide for yourselves which one was better armed. And, if you learn anything from this story, never stand over someone that you have shot. He might not be dead yet.
