I had a cousin visiting from the State of Mossouri (pronounced 'misery'
), so I took he and Brother in Law down to the sand pit for some R&R. My other cousin decided not to go, something about his ovaries were bothering him...
We set up a steel swinger, a Fred's paper 100 yard reduced for 25 target, and a couple of jugs at the far side, (about 180ish yards, but it's kinda hard to step it off across the water
), and another swinger, paper, and jug set up across the short side, about 75 yards.
I took an AK 74, the SOCOM, an Inland carbine, a Springfield Garand, and Bro in Law brought one of those black thingies JR loves so much. We went at a bad time, as we were trying to dodge as much of the 100 degree heat as we could, we went a couple of hours before dark. Unfortunately, the sun setting on the water made it almost impossible to shoot for about an hour until it went behind the trees.
Now my cousin is an unabashed FUDD. He's a big hunter, basically hunts anything that moves in MO, but he owns a 22, an '06, and a 12ga. He said he didn't think he'd ever shot more than 3 rifle rounds in one setting. He was a little amazed when I cracked open a case of carbine food and told him to start loading them into the pile of mags on the tailgate.
Once we finally got down to shooting, I was having trouble with the AK (aren't these things supposed to be infallible?), so that wasn't any fun. He tried it a couple of rounds, but it was failing to chamber about every 4th round (Century is supposed to have a new mag catch en route). Next he tried Bro. in Law's lil black rifle and said it was OK.
I handed him the carbine and a 15 round mag, and he promptly busted a couple of jugs on the short side, and dinged the steel a couple of times. He chuckled. Then he turned to the long side, and hit the swinger on his 3rd or 4th try. He laughed out loud, and I knew we had a convert.
By this time he needed a new mag, and was a little sheepish about asking for it, so I gave him two. He kept saying he couldn't believe how accurate this little thing is. Next he turned his attention to the far jugs, and after a few tries, popped a couple of them.
Of course, BIL and I were going to town most of the time, and I knocked down the swinger with the Garand (shot off one of the cold shuts attaching the chain
). I called a cease fire and went to rehang it and move some jugs where we could see them. He liked the SOCOM and the Garand, but he kept going back to the carbine. He said he couldn't imagine Pappaw (our grandfather) packing that big heavy Garand all the way across Europe, and I think it was his second favorite, but no where close to the Carbine.
We finally ran out of targets just in time to police our brass and targets in the twilight. I wasn't sure I wasn't going to have to wrestle him to get my carbine back, but he put it back in the case without issue. When we got home (we had about 30 family members over visiting
), he told everyone how much fun it was 'just shooting for no reason'.
I'm hoping he'll use the CMP web address I gave him.