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Son, you gotta light? II
He taught me a lot, be it with a shotgun, handgun, rifle or just about living…some of which was how to keep on doing so – the getting home and still breathing part.
Younger fella was breathing heavy, bleeding, jeans torn, skinned up – older fella noticed the young man’s eyes were flashing that certain color of green – meaning the boy was angry- “Good “thought the older one.
“Lessee how bad†Oh he wasn’t asking about the young fella he wanted to see the gun. Front bead was missing; chunk out of the crown, some new scratches, the bolt running thru butt stock was visible ‘cause the pistol grip …well part was still hanging on, the recoil pad was a goner.
Son, you gotta light?
Younger fella pulled out his Zippo,…well he pulled out two dented and twisted pieces of it…
The older fella walked away with the remnants of the 870 Wingmaster , younger fella limped some distance behind and heard “ At least you get to go home breathing, most of your parts still working and all attached- that’s is the objective .†“#&*@†the younger one uttered under his breath. His smokes were not much but wet tobacco, loose tobacco in pocket or broken…#&*@....
Well the young fella had shown up with a 870 Wingmaster , plain 26†Improved Cylinder Fixed choke barrel. Paid, best memory serves $75 from a fella that used it one dove season and needed money for a baby on the way. Cheaper than buying a new 1100 for $159 he had thought about, besides he wanted and used this as a “Work Gunâ€â€¦meaning he bought the damn thing to use for everything and had.
This was 48 hrs ago, damn 870 looked like it had been through a battle…perhaps the gun and the young feller had in fact been in a battle of sorts…
Young fella didn’t get a sip of water, didn’t clean up, he went to his vehicle and grabbed another 870, removed the Vent Rib 28†modified barrel and stuck another barrel on. This barrel he had paid $25 for, some duck hunter had pulled the trigger with a mud obstructed bore, now at 25†...
“Set the SOB up again, ain’t through yet.†…a raspy, parched .voice barked.
Older feller set it up, younger fella ran it, ran it hard and no mistakes, no distractions affected his focus, the boy was seriously pissed – yep young ‘un made him proud.…48 hours earlier though…
“ You can go from low mount, maintain focus and composure when a covey busts loose and fell one or two quail in less than 2seconds within 25 steps to boot…but you can’t stop a BG within 21 steps in a second and a half …Son your dead!â€
…a set of eyes that told me he had lived life, been places and done things – and some things he could never talk about. I later found out this was true and correct.
The older fella had moved the wagon back out 21 steps, he had the rope in his hand…â€Never ever assume a damn thing about guns or loads, not when your life is on the line…and …and…
First go around the old boy handed him his “loaded up†gun, told him from low mount to shoot the “BG with a pipe about to bust your noggin’ wide openâ€. Well at the “Go†he heard /felt the click, shucked racked and ‘click†again …third round would have gone bang…too late though.
Second go around, by gawd he loaded the damn gun! “Go†…â€whapâ€â€¦down he went , face bounced off the stock, he didn’t get the gun into pocket , but a canted held shotgun did get part of the BGs shoulder, he shucked “whap†too late , damn wagon had banged his head.
Who in the hell said anything about tossing a 5 gallon bucket at the back of my knees? $&*#! Wasn’t long before he would discover a 5 gallon bucket would be the lest “obstacle†he would have to overcome…
Again, this time the young fella was watching six, watching the older fella, the BG…â€Goâ€â€¦off the line sideways …running he shot, shucked , shot again…â€Just what in the hell loads you using?†BG was in world of hurt…
“00 buck, backed by a slug, just my freaking luck that SOB is wearing armorâ€. Young fella wasn’t grinning that grin of his either- he meant it!
Older fella was thinking, young one was reading his mind. [“Name of the game is to survive at all costs. Run, cheat, kick, gouge…fight, %*%$, or go for your gun (s).
Younger fella was then allowed to get his carry gun, his Combat Commander, nobody saw him sneak his Model 36 on person as well.
He was told “Gonna step it up a notch or two at a time, wanted to start with Shotguns only, rest up, while we set up, you’re gonna need it.
Black farm hand showed up to help, lessons continued."Cherry Bombs" were tossed in front , firecrackers tossed, shotguns shot alongside. Dummy rounds were mixed into the mags., empty coffee cans tossed to trip him up and he wasn’t to fond of getting hit with tennis balls it seems…everything possible was thought of and tried to trip the boys concentration and focus…
“A fella most likely will get shot on the shooting side, gotta know what to doâ€. So he tied bungie cords to inhibit getting a shotgun to shoulder without some pain. Oven mitts /or boxing gloves on weak hand to simulate getting hit on weak side and losing the use of weak hand. Trussed up, roped such to make him fall. He waited till the young one was about to shoot then he yanked a rope tied to strong arm bicep, sometime the one around waist was yanked at the same time.
During a break the young fella was seen using a file to make a few grooves near end of fore end of his pump, well by golly there was not time to let Barg cement let a piece of leather dry. Get that fore end on a pants leg , arm, anything and get some friction…it will rack easier. The boy was thinking- on his own. Guess he had heard “Improvise, Adapt, Overcome†– somewhere before- he was applying it for sure.
“All targets MUST be taken down†the older fella said. He figured with the targets and the ammo the young one had he was going to be at best 2 targets shy. He had considered , figured , and counted all the rounds- including the dummy rounds, oh he had not forgot the J frame either…he had already been surprised by that slick move earlier…still made him grin to think about it. He wanted to see how the young feller would handle the last TWO targets, and NOT enough ammo.
“Goâ€, young fella took off like a shot, shucked, racked, cussed and kept that shotgun fed, transitioned to 1911 – he ain’t missed yet…mag changes …ok now the J frame…out of ammo and two targets…oh crap he ain’t…the young boy never stopped, never heard the yell - NO…too late! Steel plate was butt-stroked twice until it fell, muzzle first he “gutted†down the second…He never meant the kid to go this far…damn!!
He walked out, the eyes , the flash of green spoke volumes. He knew not to say much, if anything. He was not worried about the gun he would get it taken care of. Young fella appreciated and took care of his guns – he knew they were only tools to be used. Well he damn sure proved that “tool†part. He figured the boy understood a tool only as good as the fella using the tool.
While the young one was getting cleaned up and changing clothes, older one was cleaning the handguns, both his and the young fellers. Young fella grabbed the older one’s 1911 , finished putting it back together, They loaded each other’s guns, stood side by side and fired about a half a mag, snicked the safety on and now Cocked and Locked they dropped the mags, topped them off. Exchanged guns safely – not a word was spoken. The eyes again had spoken volumes. Out there training was one thing, together out in the real world there was Trust - Earned Trust.
About a month passed, the pair had gone out for steaks- “ follow me to the houseâ€. Older one said.
The older fella went to the back room, returned with a Shotgun in hand, nothing unusual the young one thought.
“Got a friend, owes me favors from a place and time long ago in far away places,…â€
It was an 870 pump, oil finished wood, he shouldered it, humm this one fit, without leather or moleskin, Beaver tail fore arm was …well…different. More Ring neck like a model 37 Ithaca but again had some Model 12 “feel†to it. Those grooves near the front- huh…barrel is not 26†seems shorter…then it dawned on him…he checked the serial numbers…this was HIS gun. He couldn’t believe it! Old Boy that did it had polished, re-blued, and customized the stock with a oil finish The barrel had lost about a inch because of the chunk taken out and re-crowning.
Son, you gotta light?
Before the young fella could get his newly repaired Zippo out …the older fella lit his cigar and handed the young fella the lighter he used.
“Figured I needed to pick up a few of these for us, me always losing and you seem to be a ‘b rough’ on yours†Grinning he tossed a Zippo , young ‘un caught it. Lessons never forgotten - constant reminder when using that Zippo or shooting a certain 870…
“Get a cigar and promise me something. When I’m finally laid to rest here shortly, fire up that cigar and think a good thought or two about me if you will.
< “Flickâ€â€¦thumb the wheel on my Zippo…puff, puff, puff…smoke wafting>
Good bye my friend, yup , many a good thought – many indeed…
He taught me a lot, be it with a shotgun, handgun, rifle or just about living…some of which was how to keep on doing so – the getting home and still breathing part.
Younger fella was breathing heavy, bleeding, jeans torn, skinned up – older fella noticed the young man’s eyes were flashing that certain color of green – meaning the boy was angry- “Good “thought the older one.
“Lessee how bad†Oh he wasn’t asking about the young fella he wanted to see the gun. Front bead was missing; chunk out of the crown, some new scratches, the bolt running thru butt stock was visible ‘cause the pistol grip …well part was still hanging on, the recoil pad was a goner.
Son, you gotta light?
Younger fella pulled out his Zippo,…well he pulled out two dented and twisted pieces of it…
The older fella walked away with the remnants of the 870 Wingmaster , younger fella limped some distance behind and heard “ At least you get to go home breathing, most of your parts still working and all attached- that’s is the objective .†“#&*@†the younger one uttered under his breath. His smokes were not much but wet tobacco, loose tobacco in pocket or broken…#&*@....
Well the young fella had shown up with a 870 Wingmaster , plain 26†Improved Cylinder Fixed choke barrel. Paid, best memory serves $75 from a fella that used it one dove season and needed money for a baby on the way. Cheaper than buying a new 1100 for $159 he had thought about, besides he wanted and used this as a “Work Gunâ€â€¦meaning he bought the damn thing to use for everything and had.
This was 48 hrs ago, damn 870 looked like it had been through a battle…perhaps the gun and the young feller had in fact been in a battle of sorts…
Young fella didn’t get a sip of water, didn’t clean up, he went to his vehicle and grabbed another 870, removed the Vent Rib 28†modified barrel and stuck another barrel on. This barrel he had paid $25 for, some duck hunter had pulled the trigger with a mud obstructed bore, now at 25†...
“Set the SOB up again, ain’t through yet.†…a raspy, parched .voice barked.
Older feller set it up, younger fella ran it, ran it hard and no mistakes, no distractions affected his focus, the boy was seriously pissed – yep young ‘un made him proud.…48 hours earlier though…
“ You can go from low mount, maintain focus and composure when a covey busts loose and fell one or two quail in less than 2seconds within 25 steps to boot…but you can’t stop a BG within 21 steps in a second and a half …Son your dead!â€
…a set of eyes that told me he had lived life, been places and done things – and some things he could never talk about. I later found out this was true and correct.
The older fella had moved the wagon back out 21 steps, he had the rope in his hand…â€Never ever assume a damn thing about guns or loads, not when your life is on the line…and …and…
First go around the old boy handed him his “loaded up†gun, told him from low mount to shoot the “BG with a pipe about to bust your noggin’ wide openâ€. Well at the “Go†he heard /felt the click, shucked racked and ‘click†again …third round would have gone bang…too late though.
Second go around, by gawd he loaded the damn gun! “Go†…â€whapâ€â€¦down he went , face bounced off the stock, he didn’t get the gun into pocket , but a canted held shotgun did get part of the BGs shoulder, he shucked “whap†too late , damn wagon had banged his head.
Who in the hell said anything about tossing a 5 gallon bucket at the back of my knees? $&*#! Wasn’t long before he would discover a 5 gallon bucket would be the lest “obstacle†he would have to overcome…
Again, this time the young fella was watching six, watching the older fella, the BG…â€Goâ€â€¦off the line sideways …running he shot, shucked , shot again…â€Just what in the hell loads you using?†BG was in world of hurt…
“00 buck, backed by a slug, just my freaking luck that SOB is wearing armorâ€. Young fella wasn’t grinning that grin of his either- he meant it!
Older fella was thinking, young one was reading his mind. [“Name of the game is to survive at all costs. Run, cheat, kick, gouge…fight, %*%$, or go for your gun (s).
Younger fella was then allowed to get his carry gun, his Combat Commander, nobody saw him sneak his Model 36 on person as well.
He was told “Gonna step it up a notch or two at a time, wanted to start with Shotguns only, rest up, while we set up, you’re gonna need it.
Black farm hand showed up to help, lessons continued."Cherry Bombs" were tossed in front , firecrackers tossed, shotguns shot alongside. Dummy rounds were mixed into the mags., empty coffee cans tossed to trip him up and he wasn’t to fond of getting hit with tennis balls it seems…everything possible was thought of and tried to trip the boys concentration and focus…
“A fella most likely will get shot on the shooting side, gotta know what to doâ€. So he tied bungie cords to inhibit getting a shotgun to shoulder without some pain. Oven mitts /or boxing gloves on weak hand to simulate getting hit on weak side and losing the use of weak hand. Trussed up, roped such to make him fall. He waited till the young one was about to shoot then he yanked a rope tied to strong arm bicep, sometime the one around waist was yanked at the same time.
During a break the young fella was seen using a file to make a few grooves near end of fore end of his pump, well by golly there was not time to let Barg cement let a piece of leather dry. Get that fore end on a pants leg , arm, anything and get some friction…it will rack easier. The boy was thinking- on his own. Guess he had heard “Improvise, Adapt, Overcome†– somewhere before- he was applying it for sure.
“All targets MUST be taken down†the older fella said. He figured with the targets and the ammo the young one had he was going to be at best 2 targets shy. He had considered , figured , and counted all the rounds- including the dummy rounds, oh he had not forgot the J frame either…he had already been surprised by that slick move earlier…still made him grin to think about it. He wanted to see how the young feller would handle the last TWO targets, and NOT enough ammo.
“Goâ€, young fella took off like a shot, shucked, racked, cussed and kept that shotgun fed, transitioned to 1911 – he ain’t missed yet…mag changes …ok now the J frame…out of ammo and two targets…oh crap he ain’t…the young boy never stopped, never heard the yell - NO…too late! Steel plate was butt-stroked twice until it fell, muzzle first he “gutted†down the second…He never meant the kid to go this far…damn!!
He walked out, the eyes , the flash of green spoke volumes. He knew not to say much, if anything. He was not worried about the gun he would get it taken care of. Young fella appreciated and took care of his guns – he knew they were only tools to be used. Well he damn sure proved that “tool†part. He figured the boy understood a tool only as good as the fella using the tool.
While the young one was getting cleaned up and changing clothes, older one was cleaning the handguns, both his and the young fellers. Young fella grabbed the older one’s 1911 , finished putting it back together, They loaded each other’s guns, stood side by side and fired about a half a mag, snicked the safety on and now Cocked and Locked they dropped the mags, topped them off. Exchanged guns safely – not a word was spoken. The eyes again had spoken volumes. Out there training was one thing, together out in the real world there was Trust - Earned Trust.
About a month passed, the pair had gone out for steaks- “ follow me to the houseâ€. Older one said.
The older fella went to the back room, returned with a Shotgun in hand, nothing unusual the young one thought.
“Got a friend, owes me favors from a place and time long ago in far away places,…â€
It was an 870 pump, oil finished wood, he shouldered it, humm this one fit, without leather or moleskin, Beaver tail fore arm was …well…different. More Ring neck like a model 37 Ithaca but again had some Model 12 “feel†to it. Those grooves near the front- huh…barrel is not 26†seems shorter…then it dawned on him…he checked the serial numbers…this was HIS gun. He couldn’t believe it! Old Boy that did it had polished, re-blued, and customized the stock with a oil finish The barrel had lost about a inch because of the chunk taken out and re-crowning.
Son, you gotta light?
Before the young fella could get his newly repaired Zippo out …the older fella lit his cigar and handed the young fella the lighter he used.
“Figured I needed to pick up a few of these for us, me always losing and you seem to be a ‘b rough’ on yours†Grinning he tossed a Zippo , young ‘un caught it. Lessons never forgotten - constant reminder when using that Zippo or shooting a certain 870…
“Get a cigar and promise me something. When I’m finally laid to rest here shortly, fire up that cigar and think a good thought or two about me if you will.
< “Flickâ€â€¦thumb the wheel on my Zippo…puff, puff, puff…smoke wafting>
Good bye my friend, yup , many a good thought – many indeed…
