ROGER4314
Been Called "Flash" Since I Was A Kid!
WHERE IS AMERICA?
THE AWAKENING OF FLASH
My eyes are changing from cataracts so the rest of me must change, too. Slowly, my range activities are shifting from military iron sight rifles shot from positions to scoped rifles fired from benches and rests. That’s hard. I always looked at bench shooting with disdain and would rather be standing, sitting or prone as in NRA competition and almost always………..iron sights.
Background:
I shot NRA matches for about 8 years 4 times per month and even kept that schedule when I worked in the prison 100 miles west of home in Navasota.
I’d drive into Baytown on Friday evening, pack my gear, wake up at 4:30 am, and leave for the 6:30 am “sign in” for the Beaumont match. Hurricane IKE postponed my last match, smashed our range, clobbered my home and stopped all match shooting for me.
Last night, I pulled out my old match AR-15. It’s an Olympic with a 20” painted bull barrel, a fake suppressor/brake that I bought off of a gun show table years ago. The model number is a PCR 99 (politically correct rifle) no doubt showing a sense of humor from our friends at Olympic Arms during the “ban” days.
The rifle was an “Ugly Duckling” that no one wanted and I intended to use it only as a dry firing practice rifle………..until I actually shot the rifle. It shot great and the marriage was made! A junky, ugly rifle that no one wanted and a Junkyard Dog of an owner operator……..a perfect match!
I’ve owned many AR-15’s and almost ALL of them were better than this Olympic rifle, however, we clicked together and I referred to it as my “old friend.” I couldn’t guess at how many matches that rifle and I shot together or how many rounds have been down that tube! The rifle was an old dog when I bought it..........just like its owner! In all of those matches, that rifle NEVER malfunctioned.
The rifle had not been out of its nylon sock for years and it was lodged in the back of the safe. I dug it out, pulled it out of the protective sock and it saw the light of day for the first time in about 5 years. As soon as I racked back the charging handle and shouldered it, the memories began scrolling.
I saw the times that we stood shivering on the firing line waiting for the ground fog to lift or baking in the heavy morning air fighting off Skeeters as big as humming birds. I remembered the times rain sizzled off my hot barrel, eyeglasses steaming up and sweat soaked my shooting jacket completely through. The times that we resisted shivering or getting faint from dehydration all came spinning back.
I remembered receiving the coveted impact markers from the pit crew. You put one bullet in the target at 200 yards, have it marked by the pit man, and then blow the 3” marker away with the next shot! Later, I asked the spotters to use painted golf tees as markers and blew some of them away, too! The tradition is to present those markers to the shooter when the match ends. I kept them and have them in a trophy case! There’s a picture of those awards in my profile album.
I recalled the many times when our military friends came to shoot with us. Our club opened the matches to them for free. They never had a prayer of beating the civilian shooters at 200 yards but they improved then left on deployment. We had fun but knew that these fine young men and women would soon lay their lives on the line in some far away sand pit. I hope that the practice they had with us, kept them safe.
The BEST memories that spun by were ones that occurred just before the matches began. As the sun was rising east of the firing line and fog hanging low across the range, we said a group prayer for our service members, raised the flag and sometimes one of the members would bring a recording of the “Star Spangled Banner” which echoed across the dew soaked range. Guys………..that’s America! That’s what it’s all about and the fools in Washington, DC just don’t get it! Those bums don’t understand what this nation is about!
Those memories are precious to me and I tear up without shame. I’ve seen that patriotism at football games, NASCAR races and as “taps” drifted across the rolling hills of Arlington National Cemetery. That is who and what we are.
Pulling that beat to Hell rifle out reminded me that we’ll get through this episode , we’ll survive the destroyers, we’ll overcome the shame they’ve brought to us and we’ll fight even though the odds may be against us.
We’re surrounded and outnumbered! When do we attack?
That’s what we do best. We are the United States of America. If you ever need a reminder of who we are, I know where you can find her alive and well.
Flash
THE AWAKENING OF FLASH
My eyes are changing from cataracts so the rest of me must change, too. Slowly, my range activities are shifting from military iron sight rifles shot from positions to scoped rifles fired from benches and rests. That’s hard. I always looked at bench shooting with disdain and would rather be standing, sitting or prone as in NRA competition and almost always………..iron sights.
Background:
I shot NRA matches for about 8 years 4 times per month and even kept that schedule when I worked in the prison 100 miles west of home in Navasota.
I’d drive into Baytown on Friday evening, pack my gear, wake up at 4:30 am, and leave for the 6:30 am “sign in” for the Beaumont match. Hurricane IKE postponed my last match, smashed our range, clobbered my home and stopped all match shooting for me.
Last night, I pulled out my old match AR-15. It’s an Olympic with a 20” painted bull barrel, a fake suppressor/brake that I bought off of a gun show table years ago. The model number is a PCR 99 (politically correct rifle) no doubt showing a sense of humor from our friends at Olympic Arms during the “ban” days.
The rifle was an “Ugly Duckling” that no one wanted and I intended to use it only as a dry firing practice rifle………..until I actually shot the rifle. It shot great and the marriage was made! A junky, ugly rifle that no one wanted and a Junkyard Dog of an owner operator……..a perfect match!
I’ve owned many AR-15’s and almost ALL of them were better than this Olympic rifle, however, we clicked together and I referred to it as my “old friend.” I couldn’t guess at how many matches that rifle and I shot together or how many rounds have been down that tube! The rifle was an old dog when I bought it..........just like its owner! In all of those matches, that rifle NEVER malfunctioned.
The rifle had not been out of its nylon sock for years and it was lodged in the back of the safe. I dug it out, pulled it out of the protective sock and it saw the light of day for the first time in about 5 years. As soon as I racked back the charging handle and shouldered it, the memories began scrolling.
I saw the times that we stood shivering on the firing line waiting for the ground fog to lift or baking in the heavy morning air fighting off Skeeters as big as humming birds. I remembered the times rain sizzled off my hot barrel, eyeglasses steaming up and sweat soaked my shooting jacket completely through. The times that we resisted shivering or getting faint from dehydration all came spinning back.
I remembered receiving the coveted impact markers from the pit crew. You put one bullet in the target at 200 yards, have it marked by the pit man, and then blow the 3” marker away with the next shot! Later, I asked the spotters to use painted golf tees as markers and blew some of them away, too! The tradition is to present those markers to the shooter when the match ends. I kept them and have them in a trophy case! There’s a picture of those awards in my profile album.
I recalled the many times when our military friends came to shoot with us. Our club opened the matches to them for free. They never had a prayer of beating the civilian shooters at 200 yards but they improved then left on deployment. We had fun but knew that these fine young men and women would soon lay their lives on the line in some far away sand pit. I hope that the practice they had with us, kept them safe.
The BEST memories that spun by were ones that occurred just before the matches began. As the sun was rising east of the firing line and fog hanging low across the range, we said a group prayer for our service members, raised the flag and sometimes one of the members would bring a recording of the “Star Spangled Banner” which echoed across the dew soaked range. Guys………..that’s America! That’s what it’s all about and the fools in Washington, DC just don’t get it! Those bums don’t understand what this nation is about!
Those memories are precious to me and I tear up without shame. I’ve seen that patriotism at football games, NASCAR races and as “taps” drifted across the rolling hills of Arlington National Cemetery. That is who and what we are.
Pulling that beat to Hell rifle out reminded me that we’ll get through this episode , we’ll survive the destroyers, we’ll overcome the shame they’ve brought to us and we’ll fight even though the odds may be against us.
We’re surrounded and outnumbered! When do we attack?
That’s what we do best. We are the United States of America. If you ever need a reminder of who we are, I know where you can find her alive and well.
Flash
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