Your tales of woe and laughter with guns.

[DeadCalm]

Looking for some old lumber under the porch today I was reminded of a very sad but hilarious incident from two winters back. Decades ago I bought a walnut rifle stock from Herter's. The project for which it was intended went by the wayside, but I gradually sawed off many pieces for projects that needed a small piece of beautiful wood. I made my first set of pistol grips from that stock while in my teens. (The walnut was far prettier than my woodworking.)

I came home from work one evening those two years ago to find the remaining 20" of my precious gunstock being used for an entirely new purpose—it was burning in the warm, cozy fire my wife had going in our wood stove! She thought it was scrap wood that had ended up in the garage! Of course, I was totally ticked. Nonetheless, I sat down on the floor in front of that beautiful walnut fire, and laughed to myself occasionally through copious tears. It will no doubt become funnier as the years pass and dementia takes hold.

Do you have any gun-related tales that ran you through the pleasures or pains of life? You'll feel better for getting it off your chest right here.

Ross

 

[Nolo]

Not a particular incident, but I owe a lot of my personal discipline to my range mentor, whom I can't remember the name of.
We all just knew her as "Mom".
She was a tough as a drill instructor and as loving as a mother bear.
Greatest rangemaster I've ever had.
If you effed around on the line, she'd whoop you into shape right quick.
She always said she had a fondness for me (I'd always stay at the range late, either because I was trying to qualify for a merit badge or because I just liked shooting and watching people shoot) because I'd goof off on the bench but get real serious when on the line.
Good times. I miss Mom.
Taught me how to shoot, and though I'm sure I'm rusty, I think I've got a bit of a knack for it.
Certainly in shotgun. I can get consistent 5/5s if I practice (which I never do).
I recall I was trying to get my Archery Merit Badge, and Mom was helping me. I wasn't getting it.
I didn't know why.
I mean, I knew how to shoot a bow and stuff, but I wasn't hitting where I should have been on the (I think it was) 100yd target (it might have been 50 yds, I was a lot smaller back then, and I'm doing this from visual memory).
Turns out, I wasn't closing my left eye.
Doi!
For some reason, it wouldn't reflexively close when I picked up a bow like it would when I picked up a rifle.
After that, I qualified. Barely.

 

[btaylor73]

I have always read about those who shoot through their Chronographs or their metal shade poles and always thought, "Idiots! These people are careless and don't take their time."
Yesterday I officially became an "Idiot" after, ONLY the 4th or 5th trip to the shooting range with my new chronograph! NICE.... At least it was early in the morning and I was able to pick up my parts, and my pride all by myself.

 

[DoubleTapDrew]

A few weeks ago I had a "Doh!" moment. Installed a new hammer, springs, and bolt release in my dad's 10/22 since he liked the trigger on mine so much.
Problem was, after installing, the dang hammer wouldn't drop when the trigger was pulled.
Spent over an hour removing, inspecting, and reinstalling the guts trying to figure out why it wouldn't clear the sear. Got out the micrometer, everything in spec. Removed the assembly in mine, looks the same, what the heck? After considerable frustration a light bulb finally went on. Wait a...oh you've got to be KIDDING ME. Clicked the safety button from safe to fire. "Well, we know the safety works" :banghead:

 

[Kharn]

One of my friends is quite large (6'5", former lineman for his HS football team, built like a tank, etc) and thus loves larger-than-practical pistols (but has never taken a basic pistol course, and only grew up shooting rifles). He decided his .50 Desert Eagle needed a SAA-style .45LC companion and he bought a Uberti. His first time at the range shooting it, it was all over the B27 target at 20' so horrendous accuracy.

He started making excuses about the range ammo being bad, so one of our party gave him a handful of their .45LC loads to try. His accuracy was still horrible, so he started blaming the gun saying it was a cheap replica, etc. I asked to try it, all five shots touching at 20'. "Hmm, yeah, normally I get them all in one hole at this distance, damn replicas." Our entire group burst out laughing at his expense.

Kharn

 

[Nate C.]

Tale of woe: arriving in CA and getting a crash course in just how draconian the laws were: "Yes we are serious." "No you can't import or register that." "Yes, even private party transfers go through an FFL. Yes the 10 day wait still applies." "Only one handgun purchsase per 30 days." Making frantic arrangements for 'until further notice' storage with friends and family elsewhere.

Tale of laughter: I-10 eastbound, with CA in the rearview mirror a few years later. Calling the Franchise Tax Board to let them know the exact date they could cease relying on the tax revenue from my wages. Gathering up my stuff from long-term storage and returning to the land of the free.

 

[loneviking]

I was qualifying for my CCW this last Sat., targets at 21 ft., keep it in the 8-10 circles on the mansize targets.

My big Colt revolver, no problem, center obliterated.

Little CZ 82 that I'm trying to get too function right. Shot pretty well up until the last six rounds which went way high and right. WTH? Ammo? No change in ammo. Gun still feels O.K. Range master looks the gun over and discovers what I had missed. The CZ has plastic grips that are 2 piece with the checkered parts being seperate and they had come loose. No screw driver around, so they had me try and qualify with a Springfield XD 9 to make sure I could shoot a semi-auto. Qualified with the Springfield (very nice gun1)---but does anybody want to buy a CZ 82? I've never been so embarrased as I never miss at 21 ft. with any revolver and couldn't believe what I was seeing as the rounds went walking up the target from this little semi-auto!

 

[RugerBob]

When my son bought a new 22 rifle he wanted to take it to the local range. He said he bought the last one and it was a display model with no box. So I met him at the range. The gun had a trigger lock installed and he didn't receive the key. He was pertty dissapointed. He lives over an hour away and didn't want to go back to the store where he purchased it. It took him 45 minutes to get the lock off. No damage done to the gun.

 

[Bulletsponge]

Post fathers day misty eye'dness (yesterday was my first fathers day!)

I was 9 years old, my first time out hunting with my Dad and the guys. Someone had just spotted this little suitcase whitetail doe standing broadside on the side of a hill maybe 70 yards off. It's my turn for a shot so I bring the Mini-14 up and take a good lung shot site picture down the scope. Thinking back on it, it seems that doe stared at me forever through the scope.

Even breath in, let it out slow...pause, smooth trigger pull, BANG.

The woe part of this story was my Dad yanking the rifle out of my hands and drawing down. It was more shock then anything, because he moved quick for his size. Hindsite tells me he was just being responsible, even though we'd trained and practiced over and over for a year, he was a ethical and moral hunter and didn't want a wounded deer hauling butt on us. It's real easy for game to dissapear in Alaska.

The laughter part was that deer was DRT. Even more so when we were dressing it and found that I had split the top part of the heart in half. Damn near a perfect shot as you can get. The look in my fathers eyes will stay with me forever.

I miss you dad.

 

[armoredman]

loneviking, if I had any cash I'd buy that CZ-82 from ya!
Tales of woe? Tying to get a Tec-22 to shoot an entire magazine without a malf, about 22 years ago.
Tales of laughter? Having a buddies new girlfriend outshoot me with my own Smith 29 44 Mag. She'd never shot anything before...

 

[buck00]

NIB Glock 30... for $50

You might find this one interesting, this happen a few years back.

I had just got my CCW and wanted to buy a carry pistol- a Glock... but times were very lean. I didn't have the funds to make it happen. Call it brave or stupid, but one weekday afternoon I found myself in Atlantic City (two hour drive) ready to create the funds the easy (or foolish) way.

With $50 in my pocket I began playing roulette at Caesar's at an empty table. I was generally betting $50 to $100 each bet, black or red, odd or even. I up was a few hundred, then back down to $50 at once point- my nerves were killing me. The casino seemed to be mocking me.

Then I finally rallied and got back up to $400. I was tempted to leave, as I would be close to being able to buy a new Glock. I couldn't decide: play it safe or make a move?

* I'm not sure what overcame me, but I sat down for one more spin. I looked the asian dealer in the face, pushed all $400 in chips on black, and said "Let's do this Trang." As the wheel spun and the ball whirled wildly, I began to feel wild anxiety and a creeping sense of illness as I saw the ball bouncing in and out of colored slots. I could feel my lunch was on stand-by for departure.

When the smoke cleared, the ball had come to rest on 10 black. $800 in chips were slid to me and the pit boss gave me a dirty look. I cashed in and took off. I was able to buy a brand new Glock 30 (my carry piece), ammo, and mags and still had money left over.

To this day my shooting buddies call it to the Glock "Caesar paid for."

* Disclaimer- I don't gamble anymore, and do not recommend this as a way to expand your collection. But every dog has its day.

 

[jrfoxx]

no gun related tales of laughter that I can recall, and my only tale of woe would have to be when I was restoing/rebuilding a Mauser 71/84 from a rusty, $20 barreld receiver I had ordered, while literally leaning on a screwdriver with all my body wieght to break a rusty screw loose, it slipped, and I managed to drive it completely through my thumb, just to the side of the back of the thumbnail. Needless to say, I did this , then this , as it was extremely painful. also needless to say, I am more careful about watching where my hads are when dealing with stubborn screws. my thumb hurt like heck, and throbbed like the dickens, for a couple weeks, and took like a month to totally heal. there was definitely a loe of "woe" involved with that bone-headed move.:banghead:

 

[T J]

I was on the range shooting a qualification in a class with several new shooters. The instructor gave the rules, including if you have a problem or question to raise your hand so he can halt firing and help remedy the problem. During a reloading period, the girl next to me raises her hand and asks the instructor if they are supposed to be shooting all in one spot in the center of the silhouette like T J, or all over the silhouette like her and her friends are so it will hurt the bad guy worse. That gave me a little inner smile. Then, I am the one who has to raise my hand due to a malfunction. Inner smile replaced with embarrasement. Took the instuctor and me a minute or two to figure out the firing pin retainer had slid down on my 1911 style pistol so the slide would not go fully forward into battery. Once discovered, slid it back into place and continued shooting with no further incident. The only time I have seen that malfuction before or since.

 

[Hutch]

Won't state names or relationships... He may lurk here.

Pistol-boy thinks he is muy macho, and is ready to shoot Good Friend's MAC 11 buzzgun at an indoor range. I mean, it's a .380ACP, how much can it recoil? Indoor range, a single lane rented by we three, and the fun begins.

Pistol-boy triggers off a short burst that torques the gun so far up he clips the wire holding the target traveler, and causes plaster or insulation or something to sprinkle from the ceiling, as the traveler wires are whipping around. I found it to be so hysterically funny that I can only get out my first guffaw as I fold my arms over my (ample) belly, stagger backwards up to the wall, and slowly slump to the floor, unable to catch my breath for laughing. The range master observes this thru the CCTV and comes storming to the firing line, believing I'd somehow caught a stray bullet in the gut. He had my arms pried apart and was about to rip my shirt open when I was able to at least gasp out that I was laughing at Pistol-boy, not gut-shot.

If I live to be a hundred, I'll never forget that one.

 

[bogie]

When I qualled in the Army with a 1911, I didn't have enough holes in the target.

Very puzzled.

Walking back to the firing point, I found the round - it'd made it part of the way, at least...

No penalty.

 

[plinky]

My tale of woe involved a T/C Encore in .45/70. I handloaded it up quite hot. Seeing as the action is chambered for magnum rifle pressures, I felt pretty safe exceeding the traditional loads. And the gun never appeared to be fazed but the first time I triggered a hot 400gr load I was plenty fazed. I stuck with it though.

The groups were just OK even for open sights. I figured I was too tense and relaxed my grip to let the gun do it's thing. It's thing was to leave my hand, hit me on top of the head and land behind me.

It was a busy, noisy time at the range and almost no one noticed. Just the kid sitting at the next bench who was looking at me quizically. I can't imagine what he was thinking. My head hurt for a week after that.

 

[Cougfan2]

Had a buddy when I was in middle school that I got into shooting. He got a little Winchester .22 semi rifle and a 7/8" Weaver D4 .22 scope. Pete was a nice guy, but sometimes wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. Went by his house one Saturday and he Told me he had just "cleaned" his scope. He had completely unscrewed the rear lens and focus ring of his "formerly" nitrogen filled scope. I was so dumbfounded I just stood there with my mouth agape for a couple of minutes before I could tell him that maybe wasn't a good idea.

 

[rms/pa]

After getting up from the kneeler during church , the Bishop's Wife pulls my shirt back down over my Taurus. glad to live in PA.

RMS/PA

 

[chriske]

Way back, a lot of us knew this guy, Freddy. He was a very likable fellow, friendly, good natrured, helpful, ... & also big & very, very strong.
In fact most of us knew him as "Strong Freddy".
He was a pretty good shot with his FAL .308 and liked trapshooting as well.

So one day we decided to introduce him to pistol shooting.

One of us lended him his -almost brand new- .45 1911-type pistol & explained all the ins & outs of it.
With a last admonition to "hold that pistol tight, Freddy, TIGHT", we let him empty a magazineful.
Freddy smilingly agreed it was "something else all right" as compared to his 12 ga., but also complained about "that creaky feeling in the handgun".

Puzzled, the owner examined his .45 & discovered ..... one grip panel cracked and the other one completely splintered....

I guess we shouldn't have told Strong Freddy to hold the thing TIGHT... TIGHT .

 

[CajunBass]

I was shooting a match with my clubs IPSC group once. The match called for one run through, then a switch to weak hand only for the return run. No problem. I was "on" that day. I cleaned the first half, did my reload, switched to the weak hand and started the second stage. Everything was going great.

Until I got to the stop plate.

I had one round left, but missed the stop plate, my first miss. No problem. The mind works fast under stress. I remember thinking, "I'll take the five point penalty for using my "disabled hand" to reload, get five for the stop plate, no loss, no gain."

I dropped the mag, grabbed a loaded one with my right hand, slammed it home, hit the slide release.....

And missed the stop plate six more times. :banghead::banghead: I finally got it with the last round in the magazine just as the buzzer sounded. Five points off for each miss. :banghead:

 

[SMLE]

A few years back, I was in Ron Peterson's Guns here in Albuquerque when a fellow came in trying to sell a S&W 27 with a 31/2" barrel. I'd wanted one of this for years, so I pulled the manager aside and told him that if he bought that revolver, I wanted it. Well he bought it, and they put my name on it with the promise to hold it until Friday when I got paid and could put down the lay-away deposit. Well the next day, I got a check in the mail that I didn't expect. I had been in a two bit fender bender and the other fellow was at fault. He put in a claim on his insurance and they sent an examiner out to look at my car. I wasn't expecting to get more than maybe lunch money for the damage, but they decided to pay me just over $900.00! So off I sped to Ron's and bought my dream gun out right. It turend out to be an early '50s piece and was actually made before Smith stared using the number system. It also had later model target stocks on it. Well I hunted down a set of older style service stocks for it. They were like new. I took them home, cleaned and linseed oiled them and put them on my baby. It was BEE_U_TIFFLE! I decided to take it next door to show it to my folks. While locking my front door, some how, beyond my ability to explain. I dropped the gun. It landed on the butt and knocked a big chip out of one grip. AAAUUUGGGHHH! I almost cried.

Post Script; When I showed to my Mother, she admired it, then turned to my Father and said: "You ought to see this sweet little pistol". Only my Mom would have called an N frame .357 Magnum a "sweet little pistol".

 

[Mr_Rogers]

Early on in military training a group of us were being checked out on a full-auto machine pistol by a totally humorless sergeant. This was not our issue weapon, this was for familiarization only in case we ever ended up using this gun by accident. The sergeant took pains to explain, in great detail, that we were only to use 3 shot bursts since the gun was difficult to control in full-auto. We were to fire a 30 round magazine of 9mm ammunition.

One of our group had, by coincidence, trained with and used this pistol a great deal during a previous "position" in South Africa. He proceeded to empty his 30 rounds in one burst, tearing a fist sized hole out of the center of the target.

All the sergeant could do was jump up and down in frustration shouting "You can't do it that way - You can't do it that way !!!!". Fortunately, since we were officers there was not much more he could do.

 

[ByAnyMeans]

Growing up I only dealt in shotguns. The way my dad saw it we lived in NY and it's impossible to get a handgun license and it's to populated for a rifle so a shotgun with a long and short barrel with an assortment of different ammo was the way to go. In my plans to move to PA I decided I would be purchasing rilfes and handguns and did extensive reseach. This led me to pick up a 22lr rifle to learn and practice my skills. I get my Marlin 975 through gunbroker and get it home to check out in anticipation of a range day soon. I dry fire the rifle and can hear no click of the firing pin and assume it's busted. I rush to a gunstore and beg the guy to take a look because "i just bought it and I have a ton of people going to the pits to shoot tommorrow and i need it ready to go". The guy relents and starts to take a look. He inserts a magazine and it fires :banghead::banghead::banghead:. Remeber I'm a shotgunner so i never thought of a magazine safety , needless to say he got a huge laugh out of this. I still have'nt told my girlfriend the real story, she thinks the firing pin was broken and had to be replaced.

 

[realmswalker]

Well i was getting my laundry together to cart it off to the laundry room and I hate using my laundry basket because it's huge. So i had the bright idea of tossing all my clothes into the middle of my bed, taking up the four corners of my sheets, and carting my santa clause like bag of clothes off to the laundry room of my complex.


I get to the room and i put in 2 loads of colors and i grab my sheets to throw in and I notice something kind of heavy. I though it was the bottle of detergent i had thrown in with the clothes so i start unfolding the tangle of sheets about a foot off the ground when the heavy object comes rolling out and clanks onto the floor...my full size HK USP , i believe my eyes were even bigger than this smily face. my first reaction is man, better grab the big ass gun that just fell on the floor . luckily it was late at night and no one else was in the laundry room.


So I grab the gun and attempt to stick it in the waste band of my pants, which are a loose pair of baskteball shorts. The usp is no lighweight gun so my shorts immediately slide about 5 inches down, i was able to hold the gun to my body though before it fell again. I realize then that I am going to have to do my laundry with one hand while i hold my gun in my wasteband with the other. All in all it was an interesting laundry experience.

 

[anythingshiny]

Buddy just bought a new AR, bushmaster I think..so we head out to a private range that he is a member of and he lets a few rnds downrange.

" Something's off" he says.." Its not accurate" " Must be the tightness" and a myriad of other excuses.

I ask to shoot, prone out in the dirt and put 3 in the same hole from 50 yrds...stand up, clear the weapon and hand it back to him with a flat " shoots well for me" and go sit back down....

priceless.