scbair
Member
Going through my late father's old footlocker, I made a neat find; an old cigar box containing some photos of Dad in Europe, during WWII. And . . . a "Certificate" on some very yellowed paper. It reads as follows:
"19 Sept 1945
1. I certify that I have personally examined the items of captured enemy equipment in the possession of (Dad's name & service number) and that the bearer is officially authorized by the Theater Commander, under the provisions of Sec VI, Cir 155, WD, 28 May 1945, to retain as his personal property the articles listed in Par 3, below.
2. I further certify that if such items are to be mailed to the US, they do not include any items prohibited by Sec VI, Cir 155, WD, 28 May 1945.
3. The items referred to are: 1 Pistol, Belgium Browning, Cal 7.65, Ser No. xxxxx
_____________________________
(Signature)
_____________________________
(Rank, Branch and Organization)"
I also have the old FN Mod 1910 with that serial number, and both it and the certificate are "safed away."
A humorous sidestory: When I was about 10 or 11 years of age, I watched my father open that old footlocker, and spotted the little pistol. Now, Dad was an avid hunter, and had already schooled me with rifle and shotgun, but I had no idea he owned a handgun. I had already been bitten by the shootin' bug, and read every book and magazine I could get my grubby little mitts on!
I asked him about the pistol, and he told me it was a souvenir from his WWII European tour. He lamented that, although he had been allowed to bring back the pistol, he had been ordered to jettison all ammo (the Army didn't want a bunch of testosterone- and adrenaline-charged young guys with loaded firearms on the Queen Mary; at least I think that was his ride home...). He recalled walking to the end of a pier and dropping several boxes of ammo into the river.
He commented that he wished he could get ammo for it, but it was chambered for some funny, Eurpoean, 7.65 cartridge . . . I asked if he'd like to go down to the hardware store and get a box, as we, in the USA, referred to it as ".32 ACP."
I dunno to this day whether he wanted to hug me for the info, or smack me for being a wiseacre; he settled for getting a box and allowing me to fire some of it!
Good memories! Thanks for letting me share!
"19 Sept 1945
1. I certify that I have personally examined the items of captured enemy equipment in the possession of (Dad's name & service number) and that the bearer is officially authorized by the Theater Commander, under the provisions of Sec VI, Cir 155, WD, 28 May 1945, to retain as his personal property the articles listed in Par 3, below.
2. I further certify that if such items are to be mailed to the US, they do not include any items prohibited by Sec VI, Cir 155, WD, 28 May 1945.
3. The items referred to are: 1 Pistol, Belgium Browning, Cal 7.65, Ser No. xxxxx
_____________________________
(Signature)
_____________________________
(Rank, Branch and Organization)"
I also have the old FN Mod 1910 with that serial number, and both it and the certificate are "safed away."
A humorous sidestory: When I was about 10 or 11 years of age, I watched my father open that old footlocker, and spotted the little pistol. Now, Dad was an avid hunter, and had already schooled me with rifle and shotgun, but I had no idea he owned a handgun. I had already been bitten by the shootin' bug, and read every book and magazine I could get my grubby little mitts on!
I asked him about the pistol, and he told me it was a souvenir from his WWII European tour. He lamented that, although he had been allowed to bring back the pistol, he had been ordered to jettison all ammo (the Army didn't want a bunch of testosterone- and adrenaline-charged young guys with loaded firearms on the Queen Mary; at least I think that was his ride home...). He recalled walking to the end of a pier and dropping several boxes of ammo into the river.
He commented that he wished he could get ammo for it, but it was chambered for some funny, Eurpoean, 7.65 cartridge . . . I asked if he'd like to go down to the hardware store and get a box, as we, in the USA, referred to it as ".32 ACP."
I dunno to this day whether he wanted to hug me for the info, or smack me for being a wiseacre; he settled for getting a box and allowing me to fire some of it!
Good memories! Thanks for letting me share!
