Back on the line!

Well today was the first time that I've shot an M-1 Garand rifle in competition since the 2004 National Matches at Camp Perry. For three years now, that long row of M-1's and '03 Springfields in the gun room have been begging me to get them back out on the line and today, Springfield Armory Rifle .30 M-1 S/N 16650XX had a chance to show the world what it could still do. And if performed incredibly well, no doubt due to it's apparently "new" 1966 Danish VAR barrel. (This rifle was one of the ones loaned to Denmark after World War Two and it was recently returned to the US Army which transferred it to the Civilian Marksmanship Program from whence I acquired it.)

I went out to the Thurmont Conservation ans Sportsman's Club near Thurmont, MD as I saw an ad for their shoots on the internet. It was a small group of really friendly guys and they were fairly laid back--no hard-core President's 100 shooters here--but I gotta say that a few of those guys sure could shoot. One fellow with a 1903A3 Springfield in particular was seriously tearing up the black target center with that old bolt-action of his. Hell, he'd have been tough competition for me back when I used to be good.
Today I was ashamed to even have my target hanging near his.

As I said, my old M-1 did it's job perfectly, especially considering that I've never shot it since picking it up probably five years ago or so. But the barrel gauged good, the crown was crisp and sharp, and those VAR barrels always did have a reputation for quality, so I selected it over it's brothers on the rack. The front handguard is a bit loose, and the trigger's a little muddy, but these things can be fixed. Anyway, I hadn't planned on shooting a perfect 500 my first time back out.
And I sure didn't. Owing in large part to problems related to re-learning my seated position for one of the rapid-fire stages, I finished the 50-round course with a rather lackluster 379-0x. Granted, whenever I was able to get a good sight picture and hold the rifle steady on target long enough to squeeze the trigger, that old warhorse consistently put a round smack into the ten ring, and the nine ring was pretty well holed as well. (The ten ring is three inches across. The nine ring is six inches.) To be fair, every shot of the 50 would have been a chest hit on the law enforcement B-27 target (or an actual opponent) but I wasn't as steady as I used to be, and the 97-degree, high-humidity day didn't help either as sweat was running into my eyes and my shooting glasses kept fogging. I couldn't help think of the old joke about the shooter whose coach told him to call his shots. The shooter yelled out towards the targets: "Come back!"

Still, even though I came nowhere near my old scores in the high four hundreds, It was nonetheless great to be on the line listening to the gunshots and feeling that rifle kick back into my shoulder with every shot. I'm feeling good right now and I'm going to go have a few beers and clean and lube my rifle. We're shooting again next month and I plan on at least breaking 400 this time.