Ah yes, gentle readers, it’s time for another range report. Thankfully, those of us who inhabit The Freehold have been able to hit the range more often this summer. That’s a good thing, because we have bought a lot of new guns that need to go to the range for some exercise.
First up with have Daughter, who is finally outgrowing .22s, at least for now. (I have confidence that that will change when she gets older and discovers that ammo does cost money, and big ammo costs more than small ammo). She’s shooting a Springfield M1 Garand, manufactured in January, 1944. Note the tasteful camouflage shirt. We spare no expense on guns and ammo, but we can sure cheap it up on the clothing budget!
Next up is her Boyfriend. You need a bit of background here. Boyfriend is being raised by his grandparents, our next door neighbors. In one of those weird quirks of fate, his grandfather and my Dad were both at Remagan in WWII–he in the 12th Armored, my Dad in the 9th. At any rate, he’s a good kid, but he’s never been shooting.
Now folks, I’m not prejudiced or anything like that, but if he’s going to date my daughter, he has to learn to shoot. So we took him along with us on this fine day. I gave him some basic instruction (Col. Cooper’s Four Rules, what to do if anyone yells at him while he’s on the line (Freeze, finger off the trigger, muzzle up–because you just did something unsafe.), what a proper sight picture looks like, that sort of thing), and then I handed him over to Daughter, who taught him how to load and fire a Ruger 10/22. This is him later on during the day, plinking away like he’s been doing this for years. Old Friend’s Older Brother is in the background, working out on a CETME.
Son is next up. He specifically asked to shoot his Grandfather’s Remington 512 Sportmaster. (And yes, it is a bit long for him. That’s what shooting bags are for.) The kid has a bug for this particular gun. I guess that, along with his Great-Grandfather’s shotgun, he’ll get it for his own when he’s old enough.
And last and likely least, we have your not-so-humble scribe, trying out a new-to-me M1A. I used a bag to get the sights right, but I find always shooting from a bag boring. This is me using a modified sitting position. I was shooting downhill, so I had to get my butt up in the air a bit. That poor water bottle never stood a chance.
After all was said, shot and done, we returned to Camp Freehold, where Mrs. Freeholder had prepared copious amounts of chicken-n-veggie kabobs for me to grill. That, along with more veggies, potato salad and enough sweet tea to rehydrate the bunch of us made a great end to a great day. Ya gotta love summer time in the South.
(And a favor–how does this post render on your screen? It looks like crap at 1600×1200, but better at lower resolutions, such as 800×600.)