No nd but a very scarry sight. I was NCOIC of a pistol range on Camp Pendleton. We were at the 25 yard line the first day of firing. I was doing my job range safety, muzzles down range, weapon on safe, etc. and I notice a very large lance corporal lookin` down the bore of his berreta, scared the hell out of me, I talked him and the weapon down to the ready position. Upon further questioning it was found that he was just trying to see if the weapon was loaded, by looking down the bore. I showed him the pop up red flag(cartrige indicator) and promptly booted him off the range. Scary...
Famous Firearm Follies
- Thread starter Kodiac
- Start date
- Status
There are ND's and then there are what we call "religious experiences". I never had an ND, but at the tender age of 13, I was nearly shot at point blank range by a neighbor who did not know that someone else in the house had loaded this particular firearm. The bullet missed hitting me center mass by a few inches and contributed greatly to my firearms safety awareness.
Bill Perches
<a href="http://www.streetpro.com">Street Smart Professional Equipment</a>
Bill Perches
<a href="http://www.streetpro.com">Street Smart Professional Equipment</a>
You guys reminded me of a sad story that happened to a friend of mine in high school in the early 1980s. Unlike most of the stories here this one does have a sad ending. My friend's family went on vacation and they decided to be safe and leave their two guns (a shotgun and a rifle) at a neighbors house so they wouldn't get stolen if someone broke into the house. The guns were really just display pieces that had been in the family. My friend's parents didn't hunt or shoot and didn't have any firearms training. Unfortuneatly, the neighbors couldn't just keep them safe, they had to show them off to their friends and apparently take them to the range. When my friend's family came back from vacation, his mom didn't check to see if the guns were loaded since they never used them in the first place. Well, she was walking downstairs with both guns at her side when she tripped over the damn cat. She fell backwards and both guns discharged hitting her husband. He died at the hospital shortly thereafter since the shotgun had done too much damage to his liver. Needless to say, my friend was a mess and they moved away about a year later. The neighborhood was shocked and nasty rumors ran wild about an affair and insurance reasons for the shooting. The police said it was a careless accident and nobody was charged. I wasn't raised with guns and had never handled one at the time, so it did leave a very negative impression at the time. Of course, it was a total violation of many rules that led to the accident, but the general public that is ambivolent about guns will not be won over by gun owner accidents. Sure we all get in our cars everyday and drive like maniacs and even get into accidents now and then, but gun owners have to be extra careful. Afterall, the political tide isn't going our way.
Lock and load.....safely!
Lock and load.....safely!
cornered rat
Moderator
This weekend I had come to being hurt several times, always by idiots driving recklessly. One of them sideswiped my rear-view mirror...
I am of impression that what separated humans from monkeys is the ability to plan more than a single step ahead...based on that definition, there were far too many monkeys on the road this weekend...
The one place where I see very few monkeys (and few bad driver, as well) is the firing range. Interesting.
I am of impression that what separated humans from monkeys is the ability to plan more than a single step ahead...based on that definition, there were far too many monkeys on the road this weekend...
The one place where I see very few monkeys (and few bad driver, as well) is the firing range. Interesting.
Mike in VA
New member
I've learned to operate on the assumption that there are two types of people in the world - those who have had an AD/ND, and those who will.
I haven't had mine yet, but have seen a few. The worst waws in basic training at Ft. Dix, NJ, in the fall of 1970. We we're at the range for initial qualifying, when about mid-morning a deuce & a half came by and dropped off a couple of bolos from another traininig co. to requalify. One of them had been to the dentist earlier in the day and was quite 'gassed' on something, and unfortunately, he was in the foxhole next to me. He was having a little trouble getting with the program (we were at the far end of the firing line) and every time he turned to say "what?", he brought the muzzle around with him. the first time I yelled at him to keep it down range, the second time I got way down low in the foxhole and started yelling for the RSO. That attracted the attention of the cadre, who came over to see what's up and ordered me out of the foxhole, to which I said 'no way' until they did something about the 'loaded' troop next to me, who about that time turned around to say "hi" to the nice drill sargents, bringing his weapon to bear on them as he turned. Needless to say, that got their attention, but rather than taking the weapon away, one of them ordered him out of the foxhole. As he clambered out, he put the butt of the rifle down to seady himself and proceeded to trip and fall forward (down range, thank God!), emptying a full magazine of 5.56 into the dirt just ahead of his face in the process. They were all over that guy, I was still in the bottom screaming and trying to get very, very small, and would have preferred to spend the rest of the day there if I had my druthers.
At least no one was hurt, but it sure put the fear of God and the M-16 into all of us that day, and it remains at the top of my 'stupid things I have seen at the range' list to this day. M2
I haven't had mine yet, but have seen a few. The worst waws in basic training at Ft. Dix, NJ, in the fall of 1970. We we're at the range for initial qualifying, when about mid-morning a deuce & a half came by and dropped off a couple of bolos from another traininig co. to requalify. One of them had been to the dentist earlier in the day and was quite 'gassed' on something, and unfortunately, he was in the foxhole next to me. He was having a little trouble getting with the program (we were at the far end of the firing line) and every time he turned to say "what?", he brought the muzzle around with him. the first time I yelled at him to keep it down range, the second time I got way down low in the foxhole and started yelling for the RSO. That attracted the attention of the cadre, who came over to see what's up and ordered me out of the foxhole, to which I said 'no way' until they did something about the 'loaded' troop next to me, who about that time turned around to say "hi" to the nice drill sargents, bringing his weapon to bear on them as he turned. Needless to say, that got their attention, but rather than taking the weapon away, one of them ordered him out of the foxhole. As he clambered out, he put the butt of the rifle down to seady himself and proceeded to trip and fall forward (down range, thank God!), emptying a full magazine of 5.56 into the dirt just ahead of his face in the process. They were all over that guy, I was still in the bottom screaming and trying to get very, very small, and would have preferred to spend the rest of the day there if I had my druthers.
At least no one was hurt, but it sure put the fear of God and the M-16 into all of us that day, and it remains at the top of my 'stupid things I have seen at the range' list to this day. M2
Mike's story brought back this little incident.
I was at AF basic (aka Disneyland) in 1987. There was one guy in the flight who was a prime example of why stupid people shouldn't breed. I'm still wondering how the hell he got through the ASVABs.
Anyway, we were going through our weapons quals. We went through the class stuff ("this is the charging handle, don't touch it, any questions?"), then trooped out to the line.
The RSO warned us that there would be loaded weapons available to take down any troublemakers. If we had a jam or other problem, raise your shooting hand, and wait for an instructor.
Welp, this waste of skin gets a jam on his first magazine. What does he do? Stay in position and raise his hand? No...
He turns around, sweeping the rest of the flight with his muzzle, and yells, "Hey, there's something wrong with this gun!"
About .5 second later, he was face-down on the concrete with 5 AR-15s pointed at his head. Perhaps coincidentally, perhaps not, there was a blanket party in the dorm that night.
He took an entry-level separation the following week.
------------------
Bullets and primers and hot brass a-flying;
Goblins in my house all screaming and crying;
Nineteen-elevens and scope-mounting rings;
These are a few of my favorite things...
I was at AF basic (aka Disneyland) in 1987. There was one guy in the flight who was a prime example of why stupid people shouldn't breed. I'm still wondering how the hell he got through the ASVABs.
Anyway, we were going through our weapons quals. We went through the class stuff ("this is the charging handle, don't touch it, any questions?"), then trooped out to the line.
The RSO warned us that there would be loaded weapons available to take down any troublemakers. If we had a jam or other problem, raise your shooting hand, and wait for an instructor.
Welp, this waste of skin gets a jam on his first magazine. What does he do? Stay in position and raise his hand? No...
He turns around, sweeping the rest of the flight with his muzzle, and yells, "Hey, there's something wrong with this gun!"
About .5 second later, he was face-down on the concrete with 5 AR-15s pointed at his head. Perhaps coincidentally, perhaps not, there was a blanket party in the dorm that night.
He took an entry-level separation the following week.
------------------
Bullets and primers and hot brass a-flying;
Goblins in my house all screaming and crying;
Nineteen-elevens and scope-mounting rings;
These are a few of my favorite things...
20+ years ago, as my wife and I were watching Johnny Carson, I was dry firing with a Contender .44 Mag. My target was the sun in a sunset at the beach watercolor done by a friend of my wife's. Concluding my practice, I reloaded (it was the only gun I had at the time), but before I could put it in the nightstand, something funny happened on the show and distracted me completely. After a few minutes, I decided to "try one more" and then put it away. Needless to say, this was not an ideal way to start a marriage. Had the bullet not traveled longways through a wall stud, it would have pentetrated into our closet and gone through every piece of clothing I had hanging there. At least I centered the sun.{G} Interesting postscript-this occured in an appartment building in Lakewood, CO. Nobody called the cops; nothing reported at all-and there were neighbors on every side, as well as above and below.
This, BTW, was not an "AD" or an "ND"-it was a GSD-grossly stupid discharge.
------------------
Regards, Richard
This, BTW, was not an "AD" or an "ND"-it was a GSD-grossly stupid discharge.
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Regards, Richard
hksigwalther
New member
I gotta say, some of these stories are somewhat humorous but all or them are pretty scary. Having only been seriously into firearms for only 11 years without incident, I can only hope I never get a case of vapor-lock-of-the-brain and commit any of the AD/ND/UD,etc. depicted here.
- Ron V.
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- Ron V.
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Steve Koski
New member
The shooter's Prayer:
I know if I use, handle, and am around firearms long enough I am going to have an accidental discharge. But it's not going to be today.
I should credit this to Dennis Tueller.
Repeat every morning for maximum effectiveness.
I know if I use, handle, and am around firearms long enough I am going to have an accidental discharge. But it's not going to be today.
I should credit this to Dennis Tueller.
Repeat every morning for maximum effectiveness.
Danger Dave
New member
Okay, here's mine, plus some bonus tales...
My friend had just stopped by the house to show me his new Winchester Defender 12 ga. He pulls up in the drive way, and gets out his new toy. I watched him unload the magazine, so I know it's unloaded, right? Well, he hands it to me, I look it over and try to work the action. Doesn't work. Now, being used to older shotguns, that doesn't rattle me. Not thinking to look for the release, I pull the trigger, knowing that will release the action. BOOOOM! The Defender jumps out of my hand, gets scratched on the gravel drive. Leaves from the hickory tree are floating down (fortunately, I had a dad that taught me about always pointing in a safe direction), my friend is yelling "what the hell are you doing?" and my ears are ringing. I missed the bug zapper by about a foot.
Later, the same friend decided it would be a good idea to unload his .45 since he & a friend were drinking after work. He nearly shot another friend of mine when his thumb slipped off of the hammer. We dug the slug out of the floor so he could have a little reminder....
Another - normally very safe - friend of mine was cleaning his FN-FAL in the kitchen and left a round in the chamber. BOOM! His wife comes running, and there's water shooting out of a hole in the kitchen floor. It seems he managed to hit the main water line...
Last, but not least, the king daddy of all stupid discharges....
An acquaintance of mine - someone I had been shooting with, but wouldn't go again before this incident - had a Desert Eagle .44 mag. His story is he was walking along with the pistol on his shoulder when he saw a snake. It made him jump, the pistol went off. Yes, he shot himself in the back, leaving him with a funnel shaped powder burn on his back and a chunk missing from his butt. So, if this is the way it happened, he was walking with a loaded pistol on his shoulder, safety off, finger on the trigger.
Now, as monumentally stupid as that seems, a friend of mine came up with another thought. You see, he was a member of the same range as this turkey, and had seen him using the front site of his Mini-14 for a back scratcher...
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Beginner barbarians probably had the idea that every house they broke into would be full of untouched loot and frightened, unarmed victims. It just doesn't work that way, my friend.
My friend had just stopped by the house to show me his new Winchester Defender 12 ga. He pulls up in the drive way, and gets out his new toy. I watched him unload the magazine, so I know it's unloaded, right? Well, he hands it to me, I look it over and try to work the action. Doesn't work. Now, being used to older shotguns, that doesn't rattle me. Not thinking to look for the release, I pull the trigger, knowing that will release the action. BOOOOM! The Defender jumps out of my hand, gets scratched on the gravel drive. Leaves from the hickory tree are floating down (fortunately, I had a dad that taught me about always pointing in a safe direction), my friend is yelling "what the hell are you doing?" and my ears are ringing. I missed the bug zapper by about a foot.
Later, the same friend decided it would be a good idea to unload his .45 since he & a friend were drinking after work. He nearly shot another friend of mine when his thumb slipped off of the hammer. We dug the slug out of the floor so he could have a little reminder....
Another - normally very safe - friend of mine was cleaning his FN-FAL in the kitchen and left a round in the chamber. BOOM! His wife comes running, and there's water shooting out of a hole in the kitchen floor. It seems he managed to hit the main water line...
Last, but not least, the king daddy of all stupid discharges....
An acquaintance of mine - someone I had been shooting with, but wouldn't go again before this incident - had a Desert Eagle .44 mag. His story is he was walking along with the pistol on his shoulder when he saw a snake. It made him jump, the pistol went off. Yes, he shot himself in the back, leaving him with a funnel shaped powder burn on his back and a chunk missing from his butt. So, if this is the way it happened, he was walking with a loaded pistol on his shoulder, safety off, finger on the trigger.
Now, as monumentally stupid as that seems, a friend of mine came up with another thought. You see, he was a member of the same range as this turkey, and had seen him using the front site of his Mini-14 for a back scratcher...
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Beginner barbarians probably had the idea that every house they broke into would be full of untouched loot and frightened, unarmed victims. It just doesn't work that way, my friend.
Jedi Oomodo
New member
I myself wasn't raised around guns, so I'm pretty much self taught, and I try to be very aware of AD/ND/UD/GSDs. Here's my story:
My uncle took me to a local indoor range, and loaned me his S&W .357 revolver (I don't know what model, I was only 14 then) and 2 boxes of .38spcl. Somewhere along the way, I was blasting away at my target, all the while keeping SAFETY in mind when loading/unloading, and I had a misfire. I waited for about 15 secs to make sure I didn't have a hangfire, and the gun did not go off. This was the last round in the cylinder, so I pulled the trigger again, 6 times, not really expecting it to go off. You guessed it- on # 6=BANG! Fortunately, the gun was still pointed downrange, just not quite at my target (my uncle, who was in the slot next to me, might have had an extra hole in his, though
). I quickly put the gun down and backed away for a moment to recollect my composure. Since then, I have always been very serious about failures.
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"They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary security deserve neither liberty nor security."
-Benjamin Franklin
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"If it isn't Scottish, it's CRAP!"
[This message has been edited by Jedi Oomodo (edited July 08, 1999).]
My uncle took me to a local indoor range, and loaned me his S&W .357 revolver (I don't know what model, I was only 14 then) and 2 boxes of .38spcl. Somewhere along the way, I was blasting away at my target, all the while keeping SAFETY in mind when loading/unloading, and I had a misfire. I waited for about 15 secs to make sure I didn't have a hangfire, and the gun did not go off. This was the last round in the cylinder, so I pulled the trigger again, 6 times, not really expecting it to go off. You guessed it- on # 6=BANG! Fortunately, the gun was still pointed downrange, just not quite at my target (my uncle, who was in the slot next to me, might have had an extra hole in his, though
). I quickly put the gun down and backed away for a moment to recollect my composure. Since then, I have always been very serious about failures.------------------
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"They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary security deserve neither liberty nor security."
-Benjamin Franklin
-------------------
"If it isn't Scottish, it's CRAP!"
[This message has been edited by Jedi Oomodo (edited July 08, 1999).]
Glad this old thread was resurrected, because you're never too old to learn and I've learned some good things here.
And, yes I've had my one and only trial by carelessness that could have been tragic. I was dove hunting with two friends one winter in the '60's with a SBS 12ga with a hammer. I had passed up a shot and was lowering the hammer which I had done thousands of times. This time I was wearing gloves and the hammer slipped with the obvious result of an AD. Fortunately, my old habit (and most others I'm sure) was to be pointing the gun at the ground. So this didn't result in a hole in a fence/truck/buddy. But the lesson was definitely learned about gloves and hammers. And even though this was a "benign" AD, you can rest assured it affected me and my friends greatly.
And, yes I've had my one and only trial by carelessness that could have been tragic. I was dove hunting with two friends one winter in the '60's with a SBS 12ga with a hammer. I had passed up a shot and was lowering the hammer which I had done thousands of times. This time I was wearing gloves and the hammer slipped with the obvious result of an AD. Fortunately, my old habit (and most others I'm sure) was to be pointing the gun at the ground. So this didn't result in a hole in a fence/truck/buddy. But the lesson was definitely learned about gloves and hammers. And even though this was a "benign" AD, you can rest assured it affected me and my friends greatly.
Christopher
New member
Seeing as all AD/NDs are fairly serious occurrances, I'll just say that mine was fairly boring compared to some of the others, but I've gotta get it off my chest. I had just gotten my HK USP .45 full size, and was at the range with it just about every day. After returning home I headed into the garage to clean it. I got the gun all cleaned and reassembled, so I filled 2 magazines with Remington golden sabre 185 gr. +P, inserted a magazine, racked the slide, and decocked it. About this time, I realized I had a few spare minutes on my hands, so I figured I'd do a thorough cleaning of the magazines. I was dropping the clip that was in the gun when the phone rang. An hour, a sore ear, and a pissed-off girlfriend later, I was about to return to my task when I caught a decent-sized bug out of the corner of my eye on the oposite wall. I grabbed the USP recalling that I had unloaded it, leveled on the offending insect, and with the cleanest DA pull I've managed to date, took a hefty chunk out of an 8" concrete wall. After cleaning up the concrete shards and the remains of the round (as well as the inside of my pants) I realized that I was 2 inches from destroying my dad's brand new Delta drill press, and 3 inches from taking out a glass block window. A bit of white paint, and some relocated tools have served well to cover up my boneheadedness from the rest of the world... But I still know. And that's all the motivation I need to make darned sure that the chamber is empty when doing my impersonation of the Orkin man. Oh yeah, I never did find that bug.
No AD/NDs with a firearm (knock on shoulder stock), But when I was maybe 14, I liked to sit half-watching TV, and shoot my Daisy 880 BB gun out the living room window, trying to cut individual leaves off branches in the back yard.
I paused long enough to watch a few minutes of whatever was on until a really aggravating commercial came on that I just had to dry fire at...
I tried to convince my Dad that I had "bumped" into the TV with something, and he pretended to believe me. Nice of him, don't you think?
For weeks afterward, everyone on the tube looked like they had just been shot in the forehead (yes, the TV still worked)
-boing
I paused long enough to watch a few minutes of whatever was on until a really aggravating commercial came on that I just had to dry fire at...
I tried to convince my Dad that I had "bumped" into the TV with something, and he pretended to believe me. Nice of him, don't you think?
For weeks afterward, everyone on the tube looked like they had just been shot in the forehead (yes, the TV still worked)
-boing
Jeff Thomas
New member
I'll add my thanks as well. Reading all of these has been good 'therapy' for me. As a matter of fact, I think I'll ask my oldest boy to read this thread - every word.
I've been fortunate, and not experienced an ND yet. But, my concealed carry instructor told us a good one.
He was in the Army, and a friend was in the men's room. As I recall, he said the firearm was a Sig 220. Before his friend sat down, he placed the Sig on top of the toilet - it had a porcelain surface, very smooth and slightly angled towards the bowl. When his friend finished on the 'throne', he stood, and began to pull up his pants and flush the toilet. As he reached for the handle, the pistol began sliding off the toilet lid. He tried to grab it quickly, before it fell into the bowl. Unfortunately, he also grabbed the trigger, and put a round right into the toilet bowl. Not a pretty sight, I can imagine!
I gathered this fellow never did live down that incident.
Thanks again.
[This message has been edited by Jeff Thomas (edited July 10, 1999).]
I've been fortunate, and not experienced an ND yet. But, my concealed carry instructor told us a good one.
He was in the Army, and a friend was in the men's room. As I recall, he said the firearm was a Sig 220. Before his friend sat down, he placed the Sig on top of the toilet - it had a porcelain surface, very smooth and slightly angled towards the bowl. When his friend finished on the 'throne', he stood, and began to pull up his pants and flush the toilet. As he reached for the handle, the pistol began sliding off the toilet lid. He tried to grab it quickly, before it fell into the bowl. Unfortunately, he also grabbed the trigger, and put a round right into the toilet bowl. Not a pretty sight, I can imagine!
I gathered this fellow never did live down that incident.
Thanks again.
[This message has been edited by Jeff Thomas (edited July 10, 1999).]
WARNING! DO NOT READ THIS THREAD LATE AT NIGHT WHILE OTHERS IN YOUR HOUSE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP! Jim V, that's classic, officer shooting the cat on the porch. Kodiac, I couldn't stop laughing about you killing the platoon!
With that said let me get this off my chest. When I was 18 or 19 my dad and I watched a documantary on the military and MPs in the military. They showed how the MPs would unload the then standard issue 1911 by pointing the muzzle in a barrel of sand, finger off the trigger, magazine ejected, rack the slide and inspect the chamber. My father said I should adopt such strict standards. I huff to myself "I can detail strip my 1911 in a darkroom bag and reassemble it who is he telling me what to do!?!" Well, unloading my 1911 after testing my new shoulder holster under my Filsen on a walk I go to my room, my mind is not concentrating because I had another "time to get a job and move on with your life" argument with my dad BOOM!!! Amazing thing adrenaline. Within in the time it took for him to run from the living room to my room my mind thought "hey that's not supposed to happen, oh no the muzzle was pointed directly at my right foot, good no holes in my boots, oh crap did they hear that?, what do I do?, I hear somebody comming, how should I look when they open the door?" My dad opens the door and looks me over, doesn't say a word. He sees me frozen in my pose holding my .45 like I'm unloading it. I tell him it was an accident and that I'm O.K. He gives me a disgusted look and walks away. After awhile I think he told the rest of the family I should be alone and they quietly get into the car and go "shopping". I run to the utility room, dive into the crawl space and look for the bullet. I can find the hole in the insulation and in the ground but can't find the bullet. That night I realize that I need to be more careful.
In another event I went on a halibut fishing trip with part of my scout troop and our boat gets stranded after high tide. While waiting for the next high tide we start plinking. I have the scoutmasters .44 because we saw a bear when we first landed and I was the oldest of the scouts and therefore, ahem, more responsible. The next oldest guy has a 20 ga. single shot shotgun and we're all taking turns shooting holes in the air while the scoutmaster is getting the boat ready to push off. The owner of the shotgun is telling the rest of us how his friend didn't hold a rifle correctly and it kicked him like a mule. He then proceeded to show us with his shotgun how his friend held the gun lightly while holding the butt away from the shoulder just like this and... crack the shotgun hits him in the shoulder and he goes flying backward landing on his butt then rolling onto his back with his feet in the air, without missing a beat he said 'just like that' and went to look for some lunch.
While duck hunting at a local tidal flat I had enough experience to know the ducks come and go at different times of the day so when I get a mallard in the early afternoon I new I was lucky. The darn thing didn't die and was floating by flopping around the surface, I wade out as far as I could in my hip waiters but the tide was coming in and the duck had enough life left to evade me every time I got closer. Getting more frustrated and knowing soggy underwear could lead to hypothermia I aim my shotgun at its head then thought better, it's not worth it. Is he mocking me? Boom!!! I here a snicker from a guy on the beach about 700 yds away while I was holding my headless duck in the air to inspect it. He saw the whole thing! Damn was my face red.
In another duck hunt with a friend it was foggy and the ducks weren't flying so we head back for shore. It is really low tide so we're walking in the silty, mucky, gooey stuff. I slip and my muzzle goes into the mud. Damn. I empty the gun, clear the chamber and lock the 1100 open. Very carefully I clean the muck out and resume walking. A couple of mallards fly by but because they're going with the wind they seem like missles, wait, they're circling. Since it's my turn to shoot I take aim and figure a good lead, blam! What the hell was that? Doh! The tip of my barrel is split! Shoulda been more thorough getting the muck out.
End.
I'm 33 now and hope I have learned my lessons. Here in Alaska guns are a part of life and at the very least I hope I learned from everyone before and after these incidents of mine to keep the muzzle in a somewhat safe direction.
I have many stories to tell but the rest scare even me.
[This message has been edited by DavidW (edited July 17, 1999).]
With that said let me get this off my chest. When I was 18 or 19 my dad and I watched a documantary on the military and MPs in the military. They showed how the MPs would unload the then standard issue 1911 by pointing the muzzle in a barrel of sand, finger off the trigger, magazine ejected, rack the slide and inspect the chamber. My father said I should adopt such strict standards. I huff to myself "I can detail strip my 1911 in a darkroom bag and reassemble it who is he telling me what to do!?!" Well, unloading my 1911 after testing my new shoulder holster under my Filsen on a walk I go to my room, my mind is not concentrating because I had another "time to get a job and move on with your life" argument with my dad BOOM!!! Amazing thing adrenaline. Within in the time it took for him to run from the living room to my room my mind thought "hey that's not supposed to happen, oh no the muzzle was pointed directly at my right foot, good no holes in my boots, oh crap did they hear that?, what do I do?, I hear somebody comming, how should I look when they open the door?" My dad opens the door and looks me over, doesn't say a word. He sees me frozen in my pose holding my .45 like I'm unloading it. I tell him it was an accident and that I'm O.K. He gives me a disgusted look and walks away. After awhile I think he told the rest of the family I should be alone and they quietly get into the car and go "shopping". I run to the utility room, dive into the crawl space and look for the bullet. I can find the hole in the insulation and in the ground but can't find the bullet. That night I realize that I need to be more careful.
In another event I went on a halibut fishing trip with part of my scout troop and our boat gets stranded after high tide. While waiting for the next high tide we start plinking. I have the scoutmasters .44 because we saw a bear when we first landed and I was the oldest of the scouts and therefore, ahem, more responsible. The next oldest guy has a 20 ga. single shot shotgun and we're all taking turns shooting holes in the air while the scoutmaster is getting the boat ready to push off. The owner of the shotgun is telling the rest of us how his friend didn't hold a rifle correctly and it kicked him like a mule. He then proceeded to show us with his shotgun how his friend held the gun lightly while holding the butt away from the shoulder just like this and... crack the shotgun hits him in the shoulder and he goes flying backward landing on his butt then rolling onto his back with his feet in the air, without missing a beat he said 'just like that' and went to look for some lunch.
While duck hunting at a local tidal flat I had enough experience to know the ducks come and go at different times of the day so when I get a mallard in the early afternoon I new I was lucky. The darn thing didn't die and was floating by flopping around the surface, I wade out as far as I could in my hip waiters but the tide was coming in and the duck had enough life left to evade me every time I got closer. Getting more frustrated and knowing soggy underwear could lead to hypothermia I aim my shotgun at its head then thought better, it's not worth it. Is he mocking me? Boom!!! I here a snicker from a guy on the beach about 700 yds away while I was holding my headless duck in the air to inspect it. He saw the whole thing! Damn was my face red.
In another duck hunt with a friend it was foggy and the ducks weren't flying so we head back for shore. It is really low tide so we're walking in the silty, mucky, gooey stuff. I slip and my muzzle goes into the mud. Damn. I empty the gun, clear the chamber and lock the 1100 open. Very carefully I clean the muck out and resume walking. A couple of mallards fly by but because they're going with the wind they seem like missles, wait, they're circling. Since it's my turn to shoot I take aim and figure a good lead, blam! What the hell was that? Doh! The tip of my barrel is split! Shoulda been more thorough getting the muck out.
End.
I'm 33 now and hope I have learned my lessons. Here in Alaska guns are a part of life and at the very least I hope I learned from everyone before and after these incidents of mine to keep the muzzle in a somewhat safe direction.
I have many stories to tell but the rest scare even me.
[This message has been edited by DavidW (edited July 17, 1999).]
Never had an ND with live ammo myself (did accidentally fire off a blank from an M16 once when I was in ROTC) but I had a rather spectacular example occur right in front of me once. A good friend of mine who loves collecting old military guns came over to our apartment one night to show me and my wife (and another friend who was there watching a video) a Smith .45ACP WW2 era revolver he had picked up from a vet at a garage sale.
He is still fondling it as we continue to watch the video when BANG!
Blue smoke fills the air and my friend's eyes are the size of pie plates.
Seems the old gentleman from whom he had bought the gun had kept it loaded for lo these last 45 years...
Put two nice holes in our carpet, and he has never quite lived that one down...
He is still fondling it as we continue to watch the video when BANG!
Blue smoke fills the air and my friend's eyes are the size of pie plates.
Seems the old gentleman from whom he had bought the gun had kept it loaded for lo these last 45 years...
Put two nice holes in our carpet, and he has never quite lived that one down...
Okay - this is something that happened shortly after Basic and AIT.
Names have been changed to protect the ennocent. I can neither Confirm or Deney anything I have ever said:
Person X was riding with his squad in the back of a "Duce and a Half." All were Armed with M-16 with Blank Adapters attached. All were loaded with blank rounds, as this was amid a training exercise. Person X was riding in the very back next to the gate. The first to fall if you will...
A convertible Camero, red paint. Flames painted. Full of overly tanned, blond haired wanna be surfer dudes w/gold chains and all drove up behind us and was tailgating the Duece an'1/2 while we were travelling on a public highway near Ft Brag.
The Dudes in the ragtop were laughing and pointing at us soldiers all green painted and sweating - then change lanes and pased. Okay person X thought, that was nice. Jerks. He thought as he fingered the safety of his A1...
Then all of the sudden the rag top puls back and gets behind the big Army truck again. The disrespectful youth proceeded to taunt the Soldiers again.
Person X was pissed off. So when he saw the figer being flipped at him ala THE BIRD STYLE... He flipped off the safety, and unleashed a 30 round burst sending brass flying and the muzzel (although reduced) flashing around the adapter.
The Ragtop dudes shat there pants instantly, locked up all 4 tires and spun off the road. No one was unjured but the leather seats were stained.
The next morning in formation the Company Comander asked the Platoon if any one know of this incident. 11-Bravos are a close nit bunch - and the squad held person x in admiration for the joke. No one responded to the C.O. who gave us a wink and told the Sheriff who was with him that he was looking for someone in another unit.
True Story.
------------------
Every man Dies.
Not Every Man Truely Lives...
FREEDOM!
RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE
[This message has been edited by Kodiac (edited July 17, 1999).]
Names have been changed to protect the ennocent. I can neither Confirm or Deney anything I have ever said:
Person X was riding with his squad in the back of a "Duce and a Half." All were Armed with M-16 with Blank Adapters attached. All were loaded with blank rounds, as this was amid a training exercise. Person X was riding in the very back next to the gate. The first to fall if you will...
A convertible Camero, red paint. Flames painted. Full of overly tanned, blond haired wanna be surfer dudes w/gold chains and all drove up behind us and was tailgating the Duece an'1/2 while we were travelling on a public highway near Ft Brag.
The Dudes in the ragtop were laughing and pointing at us soldiers all green painted and sweating - then change lanes and pased. Okay person X thought, that was nice. Jerks. He thought as he fingered the safety of his A1...
Then all of the sudden the rag top puls back and gets behind the big Army truck again. The disrespectful youth proceeded to taunt the Soldiers again.
Person X was pissed off. So when he saw the figer being flipped at him ala THE BIRD STYLE... He flipped off the safety, and unleashed a 30 round burst sending brass flying and the muzzel (although reduced) flashing around the adapter.
The Ragtop dudes shat there pants instantly, locked up all 4 tires and spun off the road. No one was unjured but the leather seats were stained.
The next morning in formation the Company Comander asked the Platoon if any one know of this incident. 11-Bravos are a close nit bunch - and the squad held person x in admiration for the joke. No one responded to the C.O. who gave us a wink and told the Sheriff who was with him that he was looking for someone in another unit.
True Story.
------------------
Every man Dies.
Not Every Man Truely Lives...
FREEDOM!
RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE
[This message has been edited by Kodiac (edited July 17, 1999).]
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