Word got out about Charley’s scandalous little gun, and he was again under as cloud. Old friends came to advise him that it would be “unethical” to shoot the imaginative .22 against shooters who had only .32 and .38 wheelguns.
The Border Patrol brass got wind of the affair and Charley remembers a letter from them forbidding him to shoot the pistol in the National Matches. Knowing Askins, I would estimate that his neck bowed larger by several sizes.
Range officials examined the offending Woodsman minutely and could find no regulation it abused, until one book man, sharper than the rest, found that the front and rear sights were a hair too far apart to meet maximum sight radius requirements. Askins hastily remedied this by knocking off the Buchanan sight and rather crudely reinstalling it farther forward with solder.
The day came, and Charley obstinately marched to the firing line at Camp Perry. Behind him, “The Border Patrol brass all gathered to bear witness that I had shot the gun against orders,” he smilingly recalls.
The gun shot well and Charley shot well, although not good enough to win the match. At the end of the day he sat down and wrote a letter of resignation to the District Director in El Paso.
“I resigned from the Border Patrol from a feeling that they were going try to dictate how I was to shoot, and I wasn’t going to stand still for it. They had a point and I felt I had a point, too.”
So ended nine years and nine months of service.