I was just thinking about old times...okay not that long ago, and grinning about one special morning and though I'd swap stories with y'all.

There I was in my driveway, round about '99, middle of the hottest summer in ages. Low's were running 85+, highs 105+, and you could wring as much moisture out of the air as out of your shirt after 5 minutes. I was trying to make it from my front door to my truck before heatstroke set in. It was 7AM, and I had to be at work by 7:30. No time for any foolishness!

Well, you should know a little background. See, I live on what's known as a barrier island...a little strip of sand between the Gulf of Mexico and mainland Texas known as Padre Island. North Padre Island, to be more precise. Some critters just love to live in the sand and make residents lives miserable...like pocket gophers. A fellow AR'er names Ann speaks often about a similar critter called a mole, with similar venom.

Well anyway, there I was, struggling to get to my truck and go earn a living when what to my wondering eyes should appear in the corner of my vision but movement...in the tall grass of a vacant lot across the street...there is was again, moving lightning quick into the street. It was on a mad dash to cross the street...INTO MY LAWN! The damn gopher was at least the size of a VW bug (well, maybe a football) and moving like it's tail was on fire!

No time to get the sidearm out, it was already into my driveway before I could react. My reflexes kicked in...what to do in the face of a mad gopher charge but to charge back! Luckily the Wolverene DuraShocks I was wearing were the steel toe variety...but alas, my aim was poor. I just sorta scraped the top of its head and back, sliding it back to the edge of the street.

To my shock and amazement, the thing must have been PO'ed! It stood up like a boxer and waved its front claws at me as if to say: "Zat all you got??? Come to papa!" I knew then that it was a fight to the death, and I had no intention of going down and rotting in that godforsaken heat and humidity. After checking the armor plate in my shoes (intact thank the maker), I reloaded the legs and went in for the final battle.

Good thing I had a few shots left in me from those years in youth soccer...I got in the first solid hit, taking the rodent clean across the street in the air. I last saw it on a fire ant mound, out for the duration, as I made good my escape back to the (urban) jungle.

That's my story. Most satisfying kill of mine, toe to toe with a giant gopher, and finished with a size 12 steel toe Wolverene, no less, and all of it (well the basic facts anyway) are true!

Who's got another story to share?

Mine was in the spring of '70, just south of Tiger Mountain near the Laotion border and Dong Ap Bia. I went nose to nose, point blank with a couple of NVA in a gun pit with a 12.7mm. They lost, I won. Thank you General Electric!

I like your story better but I think the humidity was higher in mine.

Sounds a little strange but my grandmother has kept gophers as pets over the years in an aquarium full of dirt. They are really interesting when its time to change the dirt. About once a month and they have to dig all new tunnels and make new store rooms. Watching them push dirt is commical much like a high speed bulldozer. The best part is watching 6 cats lining the sides of the cage and banging there noses trying to catch him. I have seen them stand up in the boxer poses and snap there teeth at the cats through the glass.
Good hunting

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Originally posted by DigitalDan:
Mine was in the spring of '70, just south of Tiger Mountain near the Laotion border and Dong Ap Bia. I went nose to nose, point blank with a couple of NVA in a gun pit with a 12.7mm. They lost, I won. Thank you General Electric!

I like your story better but I think the humidity was higher in mine.

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DD,
I'm glad GE brought something good to you

Hog Killer

There was a time not to long ago that I hunted Woodchucks for the local farmers . Choice of weapon was/is the 45 colt auto out of a 1911A1 .. It was one of the hots days of the summer and my buddy and I was on a hill we called the Headquarters due to the fact you could look out over 90% of the farm and see anything that moved . There was one one chuck that we had been after for about 2 weeks just could not get a shoot at it also others had been trying for a longer time to get it , so it was very very shy to any one in sight it would dive for the hole and you would not see it for at least a hour or more . Well both of us had walked for this chuck at least twice that morning all for not it would see us across the field and down it would go . What made matters worst was it was in sight of the farm stand and the barn so long shooting was not an option.. After coming back from walking over to get a shot at this critter to the HQ I told my buddy if it came out again and I went for it I would not be back until I had got it ... I had no sooner got that statement out when Up pops it's head and then the whole body it just sat there looking at the hill and waiting out our move . My buddy pointed this out to me ,not that I needed it mind you , I checked my gun and started for the hole again...same thing happened half way to the hole it dives for cover I keep on going . I get to the hole and lay down on the ground and wait , the gun pointed in the hole my head at such an angle that if it comes out I will see it .... the sun was at high noon when I first got in to position and waited out in that hot hay field . Over and hour passes in that hot sun and not a sign of the varmite when I see the slightest movement in the darkness of the hole and a nose slowly moves out into the light of day as it came out it slowly turned it's head upward as just as the eye was looking straight into my cocked and loaded 45 's barrel I pulled the trigger ......The dull thunderous roar was just dieing away as I crawled to my knees and picked up the spent brass case before I reaching for the now very dead chuck . Across from the field the farmer who was out weeding the back garden gave a cheer as I held up the body as did the stand help and the two customers .....
Bill G,

Weg, you could be truly dangerous with a rifle in your hands...

Good story!

Dan

Pres., TYHC

www.WhitesOf.TheirEyes

I too have a gopher story, only a striped gopher about the size of chipmunks.....
As a lad of about 17 I was walking the gravel road near the home farm in Southern Minnesota and head shot a striped gopher with my .22 rifle. I left it along side the road and walked home about 1/4 mile where upon seeing my younger brother I took him to the road and asked him if he could see the gopher down the road. He couldn't and I kept trying to tell him where it was and of course he still couldn't see it.....and there was no way I was going to tell him it was dead!!!
So I went to the gun cabinet and bought out my scope sighted .270 and took careful aim (saying I'm trying for a head shot) and shot one round.....where upon again looking through the scope I pronounced him dead.

Sure enough we walked all the ways down there and there was the dead gopher.....shot through the head as I predicted.

Forty years later I've never told the truth about that shot!!!

Sometimes things are best left unsaid Vapo.

Since he's not with us anymore I shall relate a short story about gramps. He was in the Citrus business for decades, and often worked in some quail hunting with his citrus inpections and mostly nobody minded. Well one day he was down near the Davis Place which held some prime quail and turkey country, and well...when ol' Zipper pointed up jumps a dandy old gobbler!

Gramps never was one to plan things of this sort, and as an example on this "quail" hunting trip he carried a Win. Mod 52 IIRC, in .22 Hornet. He never was one to protest a handicap however, and as the Gobbler headed to the swamp it was tracked by the crosshairs of an old Weaver 4x.

Now it is known amongst learned bird hunters that a piece of shot anywhere but the head is misplaced, and likely to cause denture problems if you're not careful. Decades of quail hunting(no dove, they're "songbirds" ) had led to Gramps having an uncanny ability to shoot birds on wing where he wanted by the time the second LC Smith 16 was getting loose. So given the circumstances that afternoon, rifle(illegal), pointer(old & constipated), and turkey(out of season), he took his best aim and KERPOW!, the flat bark rolling thru the cypress head. Well, to hear him tell it he waited until the bird was about 200 yards out and commited to flying to the right side of a grand old cypress of about 80 ft in height. He shot to the right, but "just enough that it was too much lead", but not so much that it did not get the gobbler's attention. He banked left in a high gee manuever in response to the nearby crack of the bullet, and immediately flew headlong into the cypress, breaking his neck.

Gramps said, "In case I got stopped by the game warden I didn't want a bullet hole in him. I could say I hit it with the car." He didn't even smile...least not on the outside. I don't know if the story was true, but the Gobbler weighed 16#, was still warm and had not a single hole in it not put there by nature. And it's neck was most assuredly broken.

Right foot securely holding scull to ground,,,,,,pick axe coming in from left,,,,,,,GOAL!!!!!!!

POTKB!

Dan

Pres., TYHC

www.LowVelocity.Iron

Does someone elses kill count?
Me and four friends were hunting out behind the high school.We were all 16 years old.
All but one of this crew had their own rifle or shotgun.The one was the son of a dentist and his mommy did not want him around guns.(I hadn't heard of a liberal back then.Like queers,the were around then like now.)
Anyway,the boys name was Chip and he managed to sneak his granpa's Savage over & under out of his house.It was a.22 Long rifle over a 20 gauge.Sweet gun,wish I had it now.
Said gun was encased in a very fancy faux leather gun case complete w/ monogram.
We all met up in the woods and unloaded our gear,with Chip showing off the case more than his gun.Into the woods for an afternoon of squill blasting we go.
I was first back to my car and then another of the group showed up.His name is Bill and he is Chip's best friend.He is also one funny guy.He gets Chips gun case out and sticks it down in an old cardboard box that was laying around w/other trash in our turnaround spot.I couldn't wait to see the panic when Chip couldn't find the case to the gun he wasn't supposed to have out.As luck would have it ,Chip was the last to come in out of the woods.Everyone else knew about the hidden case.Before Chip made it all the way to the trunk,ole Bill asks Chip about his fine firearm.You could see the glow coming from Chip as Bill asked him what kind of pattern it held?I thought 'Oh,No.'
Bill directed Chips attention to an old cardboard that was laying on it's side about 25 feet away.
You could tell Chip had not fired this gun before because when he pulled the trigger it went pop instead of boom.He shot the top barrel and Bill had to show him the selector switch.What a good friend?
Well,Chip shouldered the weapon and ley loose a column off no. 7 shot that actually patterned well.Chip didn't notice the fiber fill that blew out the back off the box and scattered with the leaves.Bill said how nice the gun shot and asked Chip to shoot it again.Chip had the 'Buck-Fever' for the box by now.Boom ,went the lil' Savage,sending more stuffing and leaves to the wind.Me and the other guys were howling by now and Chip knew something was up.
Bill went over and got the box and brought it back for Chips inspection.Bill turned the box so Chip could see the shot pattern and the gun case fell out at Chips feet.At first he didn't know what it was 'cos it was shot all to hell.When it sunk in,I thought Chip was gonna faint.I never saw anyone faint before and he had my interest.
Handing the Savage off to whoever was nearby,Chip flew into Bill and it was on.Chip was kicking the living shit outta Bill and all Bill could do was ball up while he was laughing his ass off.He was defenseless to Chips fury.I could hardly see thru the tears brought on from laughing.
We didn't see Chip for awhile after that glorious day.Bill said Chip was grounded so bad that he couldn't even look out a window.
Ahhh,those were the days.

I had to laugh at that one....twofer if there ever was one!

Years back an acquaintance had purchased a RSB after shooting mine a bit and went out to the local "place where you go shoot new guns" near the St Johns River. When he got there he saw a Ford Falcon that belonged to a family he knew, and called the name of his "buddy" several times without a response. He assumed the fella had gone down the dike aways which was not uncommon. Set up his target using the dike as a backdrop and began bangin' away. He'd finished the first cylinder full and was reloading when somebody put a high power rifle round in the dirt about 10' in front of his feet, then another over his head as he did his turtle imitation.

Couple of more shots as he screamed at whoever it was to stop, then he heard his "buddy" laughing from the crest of the dike, about 50 yards down the way. Well, to hear him tell it the verbal exchange was colorful to say the least, then after a few minutes of that the village idiot pops a few more over the guys head. He picked up his stuff and headed for his car(out of sight, around the curve....), and when he got "out of sight" found a good mound of dirt to hunker down behind...then proceeded to shoot the rest of his box of ammo at the Falcon. He said it was a mess before getting halfway thru, but in for the penny, in for the pound as they say! His "buddy" was crying by then, probably wetting his knickers too. He wasn't really supposed to be driving the car by himself or taking guns out of the house yet, being only 16 and all...

He never heard a word about it from anybody, and never saw the kid again. Imagine that! Just shows to go ya what happens when two idiots collide head on...

Dan

Pres., TYHC

www.ShipOf.Fools

I killer a bee in mid flight with a pellet pistol from 10 feet away. NO TEMPATURE NO HUMIDITY JUST A JOYFULL KILL.

On Weyerhauser timber land, little east of Seattle there came a time when I was crouched down in a gravel pit shooting a T/C Super 14 in 22LR, Leupold 12X. A crow flapped out of nowhere and settled into a second growth tree high on the ridge some distance away....he sat there, he waited, he observed......couple of berm piles of gravel between him and me and I sped quickly up to the nearest one, still hidden from view I raised my eyes..still there!
Chambered one round of the Russian target ammunition and put the dot about 18" over his back.......blam.....he fell out of that tree like a sack of sand, probably as surprized as i was. Paced it off at 167 yards.

Three years ago when i took my first turkey with my pellet rifle. Range was 38 yards(by my range finder) and I hit him in the back just missing his spine. I don't know who was more shocked, the bird or me. He didn't move 10 feet from where I hit him. Since then I have taken 8 others and now I prefer to use my pellet rifle for turkeys and leave the shotgun at home. Lawdog

Most satisfying (lucky!) kill would have to be double lunging a crat at 35 yards with a bow. The vertical takeoff on impact was spectacular

Most fraudulent I was on vacation on the coast with the family. I'd have been 'bout 10 years old. After breakfast I wanders off to catch a few crabs. My folks were somewhat surprized when I came back with a 3 foot long shark Never did tell 'em I found it washed up on the rocks.

A long, long time ago I was breaking land one early, cool, spring day driving a noisy M-F diesel around in the mud. On the hedgerow side of the field a big boar groundhog took it all in stride and watched as I came by the first time. The second time he stood his ground to a yell and a bark and a yahoo. Subsequently he withstood some cussing, name calling and the rebel yell. A couple of trips later I eased off that tractor when it stopped ten feet from him. He must have known he was about to be kicked across the hedgerow ditch into the next field because he gave me that stiff legged, short jumping, growling, and gnashing of tooth routine as he backed me up to the tractor. I mounted up rather excitedly thinking he was going to climb my leg and bite parts of me off with those big teeth. I just knew I would bleed to death right then and there from a groundhog attack I started! One of those OH! *HIT! moments. As my butt hit the seat, my arm reached out and pulled that round top ruger .270 out of the scabbard where it rode keeping me company. I managed to shoot that beast right in the middle of the big brown covering his engine room. Now that was a satisfying kill. ned

On a wisconsin deer hunt many years ago I was on a drive and upon terminating the drive at the end of the woods I came to a picked corn field and a red fox running down the corn rows about 80 yards ahead of me right to left and straight ahead. I raised the featherweight .270, found it in the scope, followed it a little and fired.....I saw the fox jump at the shot so I chambered a fresh round and at the second shot completely removed any portion of the fox ahead of the neck.

My friends started to give me shit about missing the first shot as I was walking up to examine the shot and when I got there I proudly showed them the missing right front paw.

Two shots with a Ruger MKII 22 at a raven in flight @ about 35 yds. Second shot dropped him. And I even had a witness.

As fate would have it there was more Woodchucks around than cats ,or at least those dumb enough to be seen as that invited death ... My buddy and i was making a patrol around the field on my farm . As we edged up to the back side next to the neighbors turkey coops. We both came up short as about 75 yard down the side of the woods in front of us sounded like the whole wood lot was about to come down . We were standing in the shade of the over hanging roof and about 25 yards for the corner of the field .We both stood there and listened to the racket that moved alone the brush and stonewall . At the openning that lead into the woods a very large woodchuck charged across the opening busting small branches and twigs as he ran back into the cover of the brush . He reached the cornor of the wall and it grow quiet for a moment as he sat on the wall then jumped down landing at the end of the row of coops . Then like having not a care or enemy in the world he turned and started to walk toward me. my friend and I stood still as it wlked alone closer and closer ,,,what felt like hours it was only a minute or two it had covered the 25 yards and was less than 3 feet from me before it stopped and looked up ......BOOM! the 45 colt auto thundered and one of my custom sofe lead roll ball hand loads put sun light in the top of his skull .... My friend only said He was wondering just how close I was going to let it get and if he was not standing beside me and seen it he would have been hard pressed to believe such a tale ...
Bill G.
To be seen is to invite death ....

Last year buddy and I were heading out to hunt groundhogs. As we were driving in the farmer's lane, we saw a half dozen crows about 150 yards away, in the field. Usually, the crows took off as soon as they saw us, but I managed to get the truck stopped and back up out of sight before they scattered.

I took out my BSA .222 heavy barrel varmint and buddy and I snuck up into the long grass at the side of the road. We snuck to about 140 yards away, then I knelt and picked out a target.

I said to my buddy "I'm going to hold one inch over his head...", then I squeeeeeeeeezed off the shot.

BANG - FLOP. The rest scattered. We walked up to the crow, and sure enough, there was a little .224 caliber hole right where his eye used to be - on one side of his head. The other side was gone!

My buddy still jokes to me "I'm going to hold one inch over his head..."

WEG's story reminds me of a near-death encounter I had with a groundhog.

I decided to take my 10/22 out for hogs one time, and shot one from about 50 yards. It got down the hole, so I walked up to check the blood trail and see how bad he was wounded.

As I walked up to the hole, out he came, charging straight for me, less than 5 yards away!!

It was one of those moments when time sorta stands still. (Though an onlooker might say that the wounded hog was dazed and confused, I was there!! And I'm telling you, he had murder in his eyes, and was intent on taking whoever had done this with him.!! To quote Ruark "He looked like I owed him money!") Here I am, caught flat-footed by this rampaging groundhog. I raise my rifle, mentally visualizing an X drawn between his eyes and his ears - the best spot for a killing shot on a charging beast. But what should I see when I get my rifle up, but a mass of brown - the scope was still set on 6 power!!! My blood chilled. My life flashed before my eyes!

Regaining my composure, I realized my only hope was to empty the magazine into him, and hope that I spine him, or at least incapacitate him for the insurance shot.
I don't know how I did it, but I'm here today to tell the story.

Now I know why Ray Atkinson insists that you can only hunt DG with iron sights.

Hello Fischer. You are one fortunate guy! Thank your lucky stars. Do you have any post groundhog stress syndrome problems from that terrifying event?

I have killed so many different types of animals in weird kinds of situations over the years that I'm having trouble deciding which story to tell about.
Closest shot on an animal that missed.....
I was driving fast down a remote winding logging road in the Queen Charlotte Islands, when a Sitka Blacktail deer ran out in front of me. With no time to avoid it I drove over it with the right front tire breaking all 4 of it's legs. Feeling sick inside for hitting the deer in the first place I jumped out with my Ruger M77 30-06 and holding the muzzle about
6"-8" away from it's head turned my head away from it to avoid the blood from the deer/shot from hitting me in the face (watched to many movies)and squeezed the trigger. When I looked at the deer again I realized that it had moved it's head and I had missed.

Another story from the Queen Charlotte Islands was........
I spotted 2 nice bucks running side by side across a logging cut in front of me @ abour 75 yards. I was shooting a 270 Weatherby mag at the time. I aimed for the neck of the first deer squeezed of my shot resulting in both deer dropping. I hit the first one in the neck and the one behind it through the lungs.

Near 100 Mile House here in B.C. in later November I was driving down a snow covered logging road when we (my brother and I) spotted a Muskrat running down the rut in the road. I stopped the truck jumped out to take a shot but it didn't stop running towards me. It was now to close to shoot so I wound up my s..t kicking hiking boots and let fly with my greatest kick ever, sending that that little beast head over heels into the bushes. I never told my brother but I thought that little monster was going to bite me.

Anyway I have to go so thats all for now folks........

Ok Last One for now .... Fischer's Charge reminded me of my close call ...It started with a bad shot on my part ... I had just gotten a new to me Browning take down .22 (Belg. of course ) and had not spent time enough as it turns out at the range with it ,,, It was a nice late summer day warm but not hot the Chucks were out in force that day and I was hunting a new field . I was working one edge and at the far end of the field a very large stood up to look around during it's feeding . I froze and it stood and watched me for the longest time before it went back to feeding . I then began my hunt stopping each time it stood and getting closer as it feed .... I had gotten to where I felt was the range that I could make a clean kill and as it stood up to look around I was set in an offhand position to take the shot ,,, Now I could say that it dropped back down just as I pulled the trigger , but that is not what happen ,,, I muff the shot so now the chuck is rolling on the ground wounded and then starts for it's hole that luckly for me was a good distance away , I break in to a run to head it off as I got close to it and got along side it then understood the cause of it's pain and now wanted to return the favor in kind ... in my overly confidents I had only loaded the gun with one round ...and only to find that I had also left the box of ammo on the tailgate of the truck back at the edge of the field .... I never go out chuck'n with out my ol' war dog 45 colt ..... it barked and ended any more of the dance' that this big ol' chuck had left in her
Bill g.

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Originally posted by G. ned ludd:
Hello Fischer. You are one fortunate guy! Thank your lucky stars. Do you have any post groundhog stress syndrome problems from that terrifying event?

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I don't know for sure, Ned, but ever since then, I've avoided chubby buck-toothed brunettes like the plague!!!

WEG3, you're lucky. In Canada, we can't carry a backup sidearm. Probably one of the reasons that groundhog maulings are such a problem here.

It sure is nice to see that the art of tale telling is not lost after all. I used to resort to fishing stories...keep'em coming guys!

www.TexasTallTales.FineArts101

I'm one of a few Canadians that is licensed to stop such a charge with a handgun. My carry permit states "for protection of my life or the lives of others from wild animals".

It's great to be a Canadian with a handgun carry permit.......

Fischer is right! Even without being the helpless, hapless, victim of a savage grounghog attack, it is wise to avoid chubby, buck-toothed brunettes like the plague.

While attending college, funds were in short supply, and any game that could be taken supplemented rations for my family. Winter quarter, classes set up for the middle of the day, allowed early morning and late afternoon hunting. Living pretty much on the banks of the Middle Fork of the Forked Deer, I would pole my pirogue into the back water each morning, put out a dozen decoys, and attempt to take a few mallards as the opportunity allowed. One morning, drew down on a pair as they dropped into the pocket, stone colded the drake, but the suzie wind milled into the rough stuff behind me, wounded, but she dived each time I closed the gap. I searched for the hour that I had left, raced to the house and off to Parasites of Domestic Animals. That afternoon I was back in the bottom by 4:00, had just gotten settled into my blind, (2X4's driven into the mud, clamped to the pirogue). I heard a commotion behind me, like a big bass jumping, trying to throw a lure, water splashing everywhere, then a single "quack". Turning, I saw the wounded suzie in the grasp of a huge coon sitting an a log about 10' behind me. Turned the old Browning and with one shot, finally dispatched the wounded duck, and killed the coon as well.

You sure made a fine story, a fine shot and a fine meal too!

I went duck hunting with a buddy three winters ago at a friend's pond. It was a bluebird day, but we threw out a dozen dekes anyway. After twenty minutes with no action my lab, Kodi started investigating the tulies and brush on the shoreline. After five minutes she came back with a duck that was probably wounded the day before. Hey, it was still warm and flapping so I conked it on the head. A few minutes later Kodi wandered off again and eventually brought back another mallard. Anyway she brought in four cripples in an hour. The sky was still empty so I took a walk all the way around the pond with the dog. We ended up one shy of a limit. Evidently the guys who hunted there the day before had been using #4 steel shot and breaking wings but not penetrating bodies. After that day my buddy would borrow my dog whenever he went over to hunt the public area at Lake Lowell over by Nampa, Idaho.

The most satisfying kill was an Antelope buck that I dropped from a full out run at a witnessed and paced 347 yards. My two hunting partners had both emptied their 30-06s at the buck when they noticed it about 100 yards to the left of the two track we were driving over to go get some lunch. After they had bailed out of the truck and shot up the sagebrush pretty good they yelled at me to "shoot that antelope". I hopped out of the bed with my .257 Roberts, pulled two antelopes worth of lead and held even with its head for hold over. Blind ass luck; the bullet nailed both lungs and the top of the heart. I've never even shot at any other animal more than 250 yards away. The hard part was acting bored and nonchalant about the whole deal.
For small critters the best was when I threw a stone and knocked a squirrel out of an oak tree when I was 14. The neighbor girl was calling me a monster and I was thinking "this is way cool".

lawndart

LD, you never know until you try. Ned Robert's most notable creation does not rely on Quantum Mechanics to wreak miracles, it makes stars of those who have the courage to try.

You should see what an 85 gr. Ballistic Tip does to crats at 400 yards!

Dan

Pres., TYHC

www.Bang.WHOP

Best Dragon Lady see at grand party, GCI. Mr. Spock take six shooter, bang 6 pussy in air one time! He numba one cowboy! Have funny ear though.

Birman-san rook funny too, furr burret holes!

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Your most satisfying kill...

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Undoubtebly the last mosquito of the year.

I was shooting gophers with my .223.I had made up some 55 gr.hollowpoints out of empty .22 lr cases with some Corbin dies.I had one on a mound with 2 more in the background.I touched off the shot and all 3 were flopping on the ground.The bullet came unglued on the first gopher and jacket pieces cut the throats on the 2 behind it.In a former forum I was known as wolfer

Ah, the old threefer shot! Well, there are benefits to frangible boolits. Tangible benefits. Frangible Tangibles...

Dan

Pres., TYHC

www.LostMyHeadIn.FranTanWhisko

Tried to scare off a Crat in the neighbors back yard many years ago. I threw a very large rock way up into the air while the Crat was running. Down came the large rock right in the middle of the Crats head, it stopped running in its tracks. After killing many Deer and other large critters it is still my most memorable kill.

Poor Crat.

Dang Digital Dan that wasn't very neighborly of you.

The least ya shoulda done was share a few 40 MMs or a couple of 17# 2.75s with em!

Thanx to you and your kind!! I was the guy on the ground calling ya for assistance!

Few thousand rounds of 7.62 or some chunkers and 2.75s made going a LOT easier.

You're surely welcome TC! By any chance were you the guy under my LOH that complained about all the 7.62 brass fallin' on your head from the mini? Xmas '69? Thua Tien Province?

Dan

Pres., TYHC

www.ElevenBravos.Rule