grampster
Member
I....uh...ahem...cough....well....ummmm have been reading about some ND's and AD's lately in this room full of friends and I..ahhh...Oh well...just wanted to add my little experience for the telling and the penance.
It was back in the early 60's and I was a young (22) patrolman for a generous sized midwestern town that has a river running through it. I had been in the Job since age 18 (as a cadet till able to be sworn at age 21). Lots of general training and handling of firearms was included. I of course was full of myself and looked with disdain upon all things criminal. I was the Falcon of Justice, able to swoop down out of the blue black darkness of lawlessness to bring the perpetrators of evil deeds to justice. Amen Brother.
The call came at 3:00 AM to report for special duty at 4:00 AM. When we arrived at the squad room we were told that we were to guard the transfer of several million dollars from an old bank building to their new HQ and secrecy was paramount. I had arrived..chosen for secret stuff. My day has come. I flapped my Falcon wings and preened. We were issued the top of the line in firepower on the PD in those days....Greasy, scratch and dent WWI .303 Enfield bolt action rifles and some verdigris covered ammo. Oh, the wonder of it all!
The Captain gave orders to load the magazine, insert in said firearm but DO NOT put a round in the chamber, repeat DNPARITC!!!! We were then quietly dispatched to the general area of the money transfer, in the midst of ongoing downtown urban re-development, each of us dropped off on our post, to be alert and to be prepared to offer the utlimate sacrifice for the protection of the hard earned cash of the community. Big stuff, important stuff. My square jaw hardened and jutted forth. The moon glinted off my pure white teeth.
Well, I found myself standing next to a dirtpile in the false dawn. An eerie fog was lifting off the river and nearby pits of waterfilled basements where buildings used to proudly stand. Bats skittered amongst the buildings and bony furtive cats slunk out of the nearby alley. Partially demolished old buildings and the skeletons of the new high rises shimmered in the moonlight and fog. Berlin, after the bombings. I was all alone......except for my Enfield.....my unloaded Enfield. It was quiet and I could see no one.
At that moment I knew.....became convinced....The Goloshes Gang was lurking nearby, with .45 cal drum fed Thompson sub-machine guns, they had graduated from safe cracking and moved to the Big Time and here I stood with an old Enfield and no round in the chamber. I bet THEIR machine guns were loaded. I reassured myself, I had my trusty Colt Police.38 Special and the empty Enfield. I glanced around... But, what did the Captain know, I thought? He was not at my dirtpile with an unloaded Enfield surrounded by The Galoshes Gang that was about to pull off the greatest robbery in the history of Michigan. Did I say I was left handed, too? I began to look around some more. I could see no one, I could hear nothing. Where was everybody? Why was it so quiet? Had the desperadoes already struck? Did they have me in their sights? There was only one thing to do........yep......I-Put-A- Round-In-The-Chamber. I was now prepared. Bring it on, Billy. I am ready!
But....then....hmmmmm....the safety...which way did the safety go? forward or backward? I remember checking it out in the squad room...dry firing to familiarize myself. I knew..forward..uhh, no...backward. My finger by its own violition had slipped into the trigger guard....Absentmindedly thinking I'll be able to tell by the slack in the tri.....KAPOWwwwwwowowow...OH MY GOD. The Enfield was pointed up into the vacant construction across the street....at least that rule was being obeyed because of the ingrained training from my father.....never point a gun at anything you are not wanting to shoot. Pigeons flapped, cats screeched, bats flew in erratic circles and then disapeared into the gloom.
I staggered around, I looked around, dropped the magazine from the Enfield, looked around some more, worked the bolt, removed the empty brass.....A cruiser approached at high speed spewing gravel and fishtailing to a stop as I now tried to appear casual while nonchalantly patroling my dirt pile and attempting to unobtrusively shove the old brass and the magazine into my pockets. I fumbled with the rifle....The Captain, all 6'4" 240 pounds of beefy Polish outrage extricated himself from the steaming cruiser. "Patrolman Grampster!! What the @$%#$& &*$% are you doing? I told you to not put a %^&*@# round in the &($%#@ chamber. What the $%^&*# #$%^ are you doing?"
"Why Captain" I said, "Whatever do you mean?" Sez I. "What the &^*% do I mean?" he said. "You fired a $%^#$* round, that's what I $%^@#&* mean." "I think I heard something" I said. "A shot? But why would you think it was me, Captain?" I said innocently, scuffing the dirtpile and wondering if the magazine bulging in my pocket was noticeable. I also saw the expended brass was lying on the ground...I missed my pocket. I stepped casually on it with my size 12 brogan. "I know it was you, because you are the only $%^&@# one walking around acting &*&$%^ nonchalant while everybody else in this $%^*%@# block is grabbing +%^&#$% dirt, that's how I know". As Lawdog would at this point exclaim, "Sigh...."
Well......of all the rules, the one about pointing a firearm only in the direction that you are wanting and willing to shoot is probably the most important. Because if you screw up all the others, this one at least allows the resulting discharge to go off in a harmless fashion giving a stunning lesson rather than stunning grief.
Oh, by the way....nothing happened to me as a result of my ND that day, and the money transferred with no other incidents. (That is if you don't count the new gray hairs and the slightly greasy feeling in the seats of several sets of uniform pants as a result of the echoing Kapow on that mystical foggy morning) The reason that I had no further grief, other than a good butt chewing from the Captain, I found out later, was that a well connected Sergeant, one of The Chosen, also that same morning had discharged his .20 gauge shotgun into the cieling of the Sergeant's Room, blowing up the light. His Rabbi kept him in the clear and as a result I got a pass. I have never had a AD or ND since.
Grampster
It was back in the early 60's and I was a young (22) patrolman for a generous sized midwestern town that has a river running through it. I had been in the Job since age 18 (as a cadet till able to be sworn at age 21). Lots of general training and handling of firearms was included. I of course was full of myself and looked with disdain upon all things criminal. I was the Falcon of Justice, able to swoop down out of the blue black darkness of lawlessness to bring the perpetrators of evil deeds to justice. Amen Brother.
The call came at 3:00 AM to report for special duty at 4:00 AM. When we arrived at the squad room we were told that we were to guard the transfer of several million dollars from an old bank building to their new HQ and secrecy was paramount. I had arrived..chosen for secret stuff. My day has come. I flapped my Falcon wings and preened. We were issued the top of the line in firepower on the PD in those days....Greasy, scratch and dent WWI .303 Enfield bolt action rifles and some verdigris covered ammo. Oh, the wonder of it all!
The Captain gave orders to load the magazine, insert in said firearm but DO NOT put a round in the chamber, repeat DNPARITC!!!! We were then quietly dispatched to the general area of the money transfer, in the midst of ongoing downtown urban re-development, each of us dropped off on our post, to be alert and to be prepared to offer the utlimate sacrifice for the protection of the hard earned cash of the community. Big stuff, important stuff. My square jaw hardened and jutted forth. The moon glinted off my pure white teeth.
Well, I found myself standing next to a dirtpile in the false dawn. An eerie fog was lifting off the river and nearby pits of waterfilled basements where buildings used to proudly stand. Bats skittered amongst the buildings and bony furtive cats slunk out of the nearby alley. Partially demolished old buildings and the skeletons of the new high rises shimmered in the moonlight and fog. Berlin, after the bombings. I was all alone......except for my Enfield.....my unloaded Enfield. It was quiet and I could see no one.
At that moment I knew.....became convinced....The Goloshes Gang was lurking nearby, with .45 cal drum fed Thompson sub-machine guns, they had graduated from safe cracking and moved to the Big Time and here I stood with an old Enfield and no round in the chamber. I bet THEIR machine guns were loaded. I reassured myself, I had my trusty Colt Police.38 Special and the empty Enfield. I glanced around... But, what did the Captain know, I thought? He was not at my dirtpile with an unloaded Enfield surrounded by The Galoshes Gang that was about to pull off the greatest robbery in the history of Michigan. Did I say I was left handed, too? I began to look around some more. I could see no one, I could hear nothing. Where was everybody? Why was it so quiet? Had the desperadoes already struck? Did they have me in their sights? There was only one thing to do........yep......I-Put-A- Round-In-The-Chamber. I was now prepared. Bring it on, Billy. I am ready!
But....then....hmmmmm....the safety...which way did the safety go? forward or backward? I remember checking it out in the squad room...dry firing to familiarize myself. I knew..forward..uhh, no...backward. My finger by its own violition had slipped into the trigger guard....Absentmindedly thinking I'll be able to tell by the slack in the tri.....KAPOWwwwwwowowow...OH MY GOD. The Enfield was pointed up into the vacant construction across the street....at least that rule was being obeyed because of the ingrained training from my father.....never point a gun at anything you are not wanting to shoot. Pigeons flapped, cats screeched, bats flew in erratic circles and then disapeared into the gloom.
I staggered around, I looked around, dropped the magazine from the Enfield, looked around some more, worked the bolt, removed the empty brass.....A cruiser approached at high speed spewing gravel and fishtailing to a stop as I now tried to appear casual while nonchalantly patroling my dirt pile and attempting to unobtrusively shove the old brass and the magazine into my pockets. I fumbled with the rifle....The Captain, all 6'4" 240 pounds of beefy Polish outrage extricated himself from the steaming cruiser. "Patrolman Grampster!! What the @$%#$& &*$% are you doing? I told you to not put a %^&*@# round in the &($%#@ chamber. What the $%^&*# #$%^ are you doing?"
"Why Captain" I said, "Whatever do you mean?" Sez I. "What the &^*% do I mean?" he said. "You fired a $%^#$* round, that's what I $%^@#&* mean." "I think I heard something" I said. "A shot? But why would you think it was me, Captain?" I said innocently, scuffing the dirtpile and wondering if the magazine bulging in my pocket was noticeable. I also saw the expended brass was lying on the ground...I missed my pocket. I stepped casually on it with my size 12 brogan. "I know it was you, because you are the only $%^&@# one walking around acting &*&$%^ nonchalant while everybody else in this $%^*%@# block is grabbing +%^&#$% dirt, that's how I know". As Lawdog would at this point exclaim, "Sigh...."
Well......of all the rules, the one about pointing a firearm only in the direction that you are wanting and willing to shoot is probably the most important. Because if you screw up all the others, this one at least allows the resulting discharge to go off in a harmless fashion giving a stunning lesson rather than stunning grief.
Oh, by the way....nothing happened to me as a result of my ND that day, and the money transferred with no other incidents. (That is if you don't count the new gray hairs and the slightly greasy feeling in the seats of several sets of uniform pants as a result of the echoing Kapow on that mystical foggy morning) The reason that I had no further grief, other than a good butt chewing from the Captain, I found out later, was that a well connected Sergeant, one of The Chosen, also that same morning had discharged his .20 gauge shotgun into the cieling of the Sergeant's Room, blowing up the light. His Rabbi kept him in the clear and as a result I got a pass. I have never had a AD or ND since.
Grampster
