Shooting the Clark Commander

It was a gorgeous day to be at the range. The skies were blue with puffy cotton clouds, and a cool breeze whisked the sweat away. Frieda had not been back to the range since we last shot, although she had been doing a lot of dry fire practice. Truthfully, I had not made it to the range as much as I should have. The heat and humidity just kept me away. Today was a new day though, and I wanted to put some copper jacketed lead through my new pistol. I brought along my Ruger MKII fishing gun, and my Clark Meltdown Colt Commander, fresh from Jim Clark's hands. Frieda had her Ruger MKII, and Little Darling was along for the ride.

First off, the Clark Commander shot well. As usual, it was more accurate than myself, and it was totally reliable. Over the course of the afternoon, I put 200 rounds through it with no failures. I ran drills of one, then two shots using a flash sight picture. The pistol pointed naturally, and came to sights without error. I rotated between the Commander and my MKII to prevent myself from getting too comfortable.

Frieda was excited to get back to the range. She had brought along a box of Blazer ammunition. I grimaced at the sight. Call me a nut, but I just prefer the copper washed Federal bulk pack stuff. Frieda did not need my assistance though. She was able to load her own magazines, and when a cold range was called, she set her target out at ten yards.

Her first couple of magazines were shot low, and I had to talk to her again about the human sympathetic grip. As we coil our index finger, the remaining three fingers of the hand tend to tighten. When holding a pistol, this can make the muzzle drop. I reminded Frieda to take a firm grip on the gun with her right hand. If our fingers are already tightly grasping an object, the sympathetic grip is minimized when we use our index finger. Frieda listened, and applied my suggestion. She found herself shooting in the red again immediately.

After Frieda got a couple hundred rounds downrange, she began to have occasional stovepipe jams. I would have to clear her pistol for her, and I attributed the problem to the Blazer ammunition. I was still shooting just fine with Federal. Its my belief that Blazer may have a reduced charge in some rounds, and less consistency from round to round. A pistol depends on the recoil impulse to eject the spent brass from the gun. When the recoil impulse is reduced because the ammunition is loaded lighter, the bolt doesn't move as quickly and ejection problems can occur. I have not performed my Ruger magazine modification on Frieda's mags. That could have played a role as well. Frieda persevered though, and resolved to buy Federal ammunition next time.

Frieda and Little Darling kept looking at my target and comparing their shooting with mine. This is a natural thing for anyone to do, and it is one of the reasons I do not shoot when I am teaching a novice. It is also a reason why I will work on drills that impair my accuracy when shooting with someone who has established competence and needs to push themselves a bit more. Frieda noticed that I was working on flash sighting. She remembered me talking about it with her, and asked me why I was shooting that way.

"The person most likely to survive a gunfight unscathed is not necessarily the person who is the most accurate," I told her. "Almost invariably the person who is shot first will be the person who comes out on the short end of the stick. Shooting accurately is important. Shooting accurately enough, fast enough is more important. You can train for target shooting, or you can train to survive a lethal encounter. Proficiency at target shooting teaches you to use a gun in a certain manner. Under the stress of unexpected violence, we will revert back to the way we trained ourselves to shoot. I want to be the guy who gets shots on target first, not the guy who does it most accurately. I just need to be accurate enough."

Antique Allure

Frieda joined me at the range today with a 500 round box of Blazer 22 ammunition and the Ruger MKII bequeathed her by her father. She had decided to leave her Taurus snubby at home. In her hands she proudly displayed her own set of muffs. As we signed into the range, Frieda asked about a membership, and then decided to join. One more neophyte shooter is now invested into the past time of shooting.

As we unpacked our gear and approached the firing line, a young man was firing a 10mm hand cannon to our left. The concussion and report of the gun shots made Frieda wince. "Don't worry, it's no different than a bass drum, and he won't be shooting it long anyway," I told her. We laid out our gear and took targets out to the ten yard line at the next cold range call. Sure enough, by the time Frieda was on her third magazine, the guy with the 10mm was policing his brass.

It was humid and sticky and a storm was brewing, with a breeze from the Gulf. But rather than wick the sweat from our backs, it stuck dust to our faces. As we checked our targets, Frieda was happy to see that after a month of not shooting, on her second trip, she was getting most of her hits in the red zone. I reminded her to concentrate on he basics. Stable platform, sight alignment, trigger squeeze straight to the rear. "Mainly trigger control," I told her. "You mustn't allow your trigger pull to move the sights out of alignment."

"But I'm doing OK?"

"You're doing fine," I replied, "But you were doing better when we left last time. A month of not reinforcing the new skills has allowed them to erode."

"How often do you practice?" Frieda asked.

"Well, at one time, when I was going into some damned spooky places, I would run at least one magazine of ammunition through my carry gun each day. I could do it then, between seeing patients. I would shoot when my blood sugar was low, and my hands were shaky. I would just pop into the indoor range, fire off eight rounds and be back outside in under fifteen minutes."

"That's hard to do with work......."

"Yeah, I know," I responded. "Nowadays, I try to get to the range at least once a week. Lately, my free time has been more scarce, so I've shot about once every two weeks."

"But you are still shooting the same."

"It's like riding a bicycle, I've been doing it longer, so it will take me longer to lose the skills. Plus, I've been dry firing. Have you been dry firing?" I asked.

"I felt silly."

"It works though. Try it. Just be sure to check your pistol's chamber at least twice before starting. You have a penny?" Frieda produced the copper coin, and when the range went hot, I showed her the dry fire trick with the pence balanced on the front sight of my Gold Cup. Thankfully, it didn't fall.

Frieda checked the chamber of her Ruger and dry fired it. She pulled the bolt back, released it, and dry fired it again. "This will really help?" she asked.

"Yep, but do it at home. We're here to shred some paper." Frieda loaded and shot several more magazines. Then the Blazer ammunition began giving her stovepipe jams. I showed her how to clear the pistol, stressing the importance of keeping the muzzle down range at all times.

"But why is it happening?" she asked.

"Probably that cheap Blazer ammo," I replied.

"Cheap? I paid $23 for this box! Is something wrong with my gun?"

"Why don't you shoot a bit of my Federal ammo and see?" Frieda loaded up another magazine and resumed shooting. She had no further failures. While she was shooting, I went to my range bag and pulled out a surprise. I knew that she collected antiques. When there was a pause in the shooting, I laid a nickel Smith & Wesson M&P revolver in front of her.

"What's that?" she asked.

"It's an old revolver from 1926," I told her. She picked up the old wheelgun and fondled it a bit. "Want to shoot it?" I asked.

"Can I?"

"Sure. It's the same caliber as your Taurus." Regretfully, I had not brought along any cowboy loads. All I had was Winchester White Box, 130 grain target rounds. It's going to kick a bit more than your twenty-two," I informed Frieda.

"It won't be bad though?" she asked cautiously.

"Nothing you can't handle. It will have a long trigger, pull it back smoothly to the rear." I let her dry fire the nickel gun a couple of times, the trigger on the old pre-depression revolver was slicker than Crisco on ice. I loaded six rounds in the cylinder, and Frieda took the gun from me.

The allure of the antique was strong, and the force was with Frieda. She jumped at the first report from the gun, but kept her composure and kept the muzzle pointed down range. Then, determined to shoot the old revolver, she pulled the trigger five more times. Six holes in the red. "And that Frieda, is what a slick trigger and a longer barrel will do for you," I told her. "Your snubby is still better for a carry gun though."

"Can the trigger be made like this one?"

"It will probably never be as good," I replied. "Different design, different tolerances, but you can get used to a thirty-eight with this revolver. Then move to your snubby. This old gun has had eighty-three years to smooth out."

"If I found one with a shorter barrel, could I carry it?"

"No reason you couldn't, assuming you had a license......."

"And you will help me get that?"

Another concealed carrier and old wheelgun aficionado is born.

Busting Buttons

"Xavier, I understand you shoot guns a lot...." she said tentatively earlier this week.

"Yep, I shoot a bit," I replied.

"I have a gun that I bought for protection, but I've never shot it before," she said.

"Really? What do you do with it?"

"I just carry it underneath the seat of my car in case I need it," Frieda informed me. Such is often the case, sadly. I asked how long she had the gun, and learned it had resided underneath the seat of her car for over a year.

"What kind of gun is it?" I asked.

"I don't know, a black one," she replied. Later in the day, after she had apparently checked, she told me it was a Taurus. I asked if it was flat, or if it had a cylindrical thing that held the bullets. I learned the gun in question was a revolver.

A day later, Frieda asked me if I would take her shooting. "Why do you want to shoot?" I asked.

"For protection," she replied. "I have another gun, one my daddy bought before he died. I don't think it's ever been shot," she said.

"What kind of gun?"

She was ready for me. "A Ruger MKII," she replied.

"Good, you bring the Ruger, and I'll bring the ammo." Then I gave her the Four Rules to memorize. "Learn these," I told her after writing them down for her. "They will keep us safe."

"Do you want me to bring the Taurus?" she asked.

"You can, but we will mostly be shooting the Ruger."

Before arriving at the range this afternoon, we met to discuss the rules of the range and have a recital of the Four Rules. I checked her guns to make certain they were not loaded. I showed her the basics of how to manipulate and hold the pistol, and we drove through the gates to the sound of ARs and Glocks cracking in the distance. As we walked through the parking lot, muffs on our heads and handguns at our sides, she did not seem to be the least bit bothered by the noise.

At the first cold range call, we took targets out to seven yards. I wanted Frieda to know that distance, to have it locked in her mind. Seven yards, or twenty-one feet is the distance that a determined aggressor can cross in 1.5 seconds, the time it takes most people to recognize a threat and clear leather. It's the boundary of no return demonstrated time and again in the Tueller drill, the distance that intervention must be undertaken in if injury is to be avoided.

I started Frieda off on her father's Ruger. I showed her again how the bolt worked when firing to chamber the next round. I cautioned her to keep both thumbs on the same side of the pistol, and showed her how to load a magazine. As she worked her way through the first few magazines, I watched her. Her muzzle discipline was good, and she followed the rules of the range to the letter. A smile was on her face. After a couple of magazines, I showed her how to make a safe weapon for a cold range.

The cold range call came quickly, and she made a safe weapon on her own, magazine out, bolt locked back, muzzle down range. When the OK came to go down range, Frieda was pleased and excited to find a target with most of the holes in the red. "I'm pretty good at this, aren't I? she said.

"You are," I assured her. "Better than most at this stage in the game." I took a picture of her with her first target, and she removed it for posterity and comparison later.

When the hot range buzzer went off again, she shot and I observed, I began to give a few small pointers. Frieda adopted an Isosceles stance early on, but had a tendency to place her feet together, then place her weight on one leg. Her shooting was suffering from it. "Place your feet underneath your shoulders," I told her, explaining that doing so will make her body a more stable platform for shooting.

Frieda was a very receptive student, and as she incorporated my suggestions, she found herself no longer shooting outside of the red. Then came the request I hoped not to hear. "I want to shoot my Taurus now," she said.

I quietly suggested she try my old Model 17 first, and she agreed. I showed her how to operate the cylinder release, and how to load and eject shells. I showed her how double and single action shooting is done with an empty gun. "Why would you want to shoot that way?" she asked, referring to single action.

"For precise accuracy," I replied. "For defense, however, you want to use double action. It's much quicker if you can control the gun." I let her attempt to dry fire the Model 17 and she had a tough time with the trigger. Finally, she found the sweet spot, and I showed her how to engage the revolver trigger with the first knuckle for leverage.

Frieda found that the revolver was not as easy to shoot well as she had thought. Her shots were all over the cardboard. None were on the paper. Frustration erupted on her face. "Don't worry about it Frieda," I told her. "Some people never learn to shoot a double action revolver well. It's not an easy gun to master."

"Is it me, or is it the gun?" she asked.

"A little of both," I lied. "The gun is scary accurate, but you are still building your foundation of basic marksmanship. Revolver shooting is all about trigger control." I took the revolver, and placed six holes in the ten ring of a fresh target to prove my point.

"Do you still want to shoot your Taurus?" I asked.

"I do," she said.

"Then let me shoot it first, so you will have an idea of the recoil." I took the Taurus, and quietly summoned all Brazilian gods of accuracy. I managed to place five larger holes in the red.

I loaded the snubnose revolver for Frieda, and she aligned the sights. She struggled to pull the trigger back, and when the little revolver finally barked, it almost leapt from her hands. She looked at me in astonishment. She looked back at her target, and trembled as she began to pull off another round. Bam! A look of genuine concern crossed her face.

"You don't have to keep shooting it," I told her. "We can unload it."

"Good," she replied. All to often when a woman enters a gun store to purchase a gun, they are met with ignorance if not outright condescension. Over and over I have met women who purchased a snubnose revolver as their first handgun. The only reason I can fathom for this is a salesman wanting to make a sale, and him knowing that the female new to shooting, will go for the smaller gun.

Frieda had fallen into that trap. Unfortunately, the snubnose revolver is one of the most difficult handguns to shoot well. The long, often heavy double action trigger combined with the short sight radius make it a challenge for experienced shooters. For a person in the learning stages, the trigger, sight radius and recoil are a recipe for failure and frustration. A cold range was called, and we went out to put up new targets.

Frieda returned to her father's Ruger. At first, she was still a little shaky, but as she settled down and concentrated on her fundamentals, her shots quickly began hitting the nine ring, then the ten. "I see now why you wanted me to bring this one along," she said as we reloaded magazines.

"Are you having fun yet?" I asked.

"You bet!" she replied enthusiastically. "I don't know why Daddy bought this gun.... He never shot it. Would it work for self defense?"

"Well, for self defense the first rule is to hit your target. You are learning to do that with it. In my opinion, a twenty-two is too small for reliable self defense, but it has been known to do the job. Chances are, you will want to move up to a cartridge with more stopping power in the future, but learn to hit what you want to with this one first."

"Do you think Daddy would be happy his little girl is shooting his gun?" asked Frieda.

"I'm certain his buttons are bursting with pride," I said.

Seeing Red, Shooting Black

For some reason the range was deserted when I met Cassie this afternoon for a bit of shooting. It was a little chilly, but not enough to keep most people away. I don't know what was going on. I was just happy for the good fortune of having the range to ourselves.

We shot at seven yards, and Cassie decided to stick with the Ruger MKII. That was fine with me, she was familiar with it, and comfortable shooting it. Cassie naturally assumes an Isosceles stance. All I had to do was ask her to spread her feet just a little farther apart for stability. She had brought along 550 rounds to enjoy shooting. I would be her magazine loader and coach/cheerleader.

As each bullet pierced the target, I either said "Good," or I kept quiet. Hits in the red merited a response. Hits in the white were ignored. At this point in Cassie's shooting, I am striving for confidence, and fun. Precision can come later. If she doesn't have fun shooting, then she will eventually give it up. If she doesn't feel confident, she will eventually move on to something else.

During a break in the shooting, I talked to Cassie about focusing on the front sight. "Your eyes can not focus on the target, the front sight and the rear sight. The distance between them is too great. Rather than trying to see all three, bring the front sight into focus, and let the rear sight and the target be a bit blurry," I said.

Cassie shot a bit more, and then confessed. "I can't see the front sight," she said.

Since I wasn't shooting, I had not noticed the orange front sight and the red target. Cassie was staying in the red by the process of elimination. When she saw the front sight, she placed it back in the red to make it disappear and pulled the trigger. A novel solution, but not what I was looking for.

I dug into my range bag and found a black Shoot 'n' See target. We affixed that over the red spot, and went back to the firing line. With the next hot range call, Cassie picked up her pistol and aligned her sights. "Wow, I see what you mean!" she exclaimed.

"Can you see the green rings in the black?" I asked.

"No."

"That's OK. We're shooting for the center. Just imagine two lines across the black spot intersecting in the middle. Line your front sight up with that point of intersection right on top of the front sight," I instructed her, "Then, squeeze the trigger without pulling the front sight off that intersection."

With Cassie's first, second and third shots, I was pleased to see green craters appear in the center of the black void. Then her accuracy began to suffer. After the first magazine was fired into the Shoot 'n' See, we talked some more. "You have sight alignment now Cassie," I told her, "But any monkey can do that."

"But why don't the bullets go where I point the gun?" she asked.

"They do. What you are not seeing is that you are pulling the sights slightly off target with your trigger pull sometimes. Compressing that trigger without moving any other fingers and without changing your sight alignment is the key to putting a hole precisely where you want it."

"It's not that easy."

"No, it's not. That's why it's called a skill. But truthfully, that is all there is to it. When you shoot, discard anything that causes you to move the sights off target while pulling the trigger. Keep everything that helps you accomplish that task. Don't lock your elbows. Don't anticipate the shot. These are things to discard," I told her. "Pull the trigger at a steady rate straight backwards. When you are waiting in the check-out line somewhere, don't just day dream. Instead, practice moving your trigger finger straight back with the rest of your fingers held perfectly still. Being able to control that finger independent of the rest is key."

"It takes a lot of practice," she responded.

"It does," I said. "It's not like the movies where somebody picks up a gun for the first time and scores bulls eyes. It takes dedication and practice, but if you focus your practice to achieve your goal, you will arrive there quickly."

"I'm not sure I have that dedication," she said.

"You don't have to," I replied. "You are shooting well enough now to accomplish your goal of self defense. Think of it as a zen thing, a meditation. It's a zone you want to be in, where you can pick up a handgun and place the shot exactly where you want it to go. Your goal when we arrived today was to stay in the red, and for the most part, you accomplished that. Shooting is a skill that involves stripping away all the hindrances to the basic skills of aligning the sights and pulling the trigger."

"A zen thing," Cassie mused, "I could get into that."

Valentine Shoot

"I hear you know a bit about guns," said Doc Duchesne one afternoon.

"Well a few folks think I do," I replied.

"You know, I got me a little pistol in case some yahoo breaks in on Gertie and me.

"How do you like it?" I asked.

"Well, I haven't shot it yet. Gertie don't know about it."

"Then let's make plans to go shoot the thing Doc. You know what caliber it is?"

"38 I think."

"You bought it new, right?"

"Yes sir!"

"OK, I'll bring the ammo, you just bring yourself and your gun."

So it was that Doc's old maroon Delta 88 followed me to the range today. He carried his Taurus revolver in a plastic briefcase wrapped in an oily rag. Doc was no high speed low drag operator, but he had made the choice to do what was necessary to defend himself and his bride.

My main thrust for Doc was simple safety and familiarization with the gun. We discussed the range rules and the Four Rules before going on the firing line. Once there, we shot at seven and ten yards. I stuck some high visibility targets up to help Doc's aging eyes see what he was aiming at.

Even though I encouraged double action shooting, Doc really preferred to shoot single action. His arthritic fingers lacked the strength to reliably pull the trigger without tremors. Doc could use some work on widening his stance, and a critique of his targets had to take into account that he might have been saving the ten rings for later. He did manage to stay on the cardboard, and there were times that he made the ten ring shiver with fear. All in all, I was happy with Doc's performance. The main thing is he has taken the step towards no longer being a potential victim.

Once Doc was on his way back home (with a stop on the way to pick up some bread, aspirin and a bouquet for Gertie) I turned my attention to my own guns. I took the new to me nickel Model 10 out of my range bag, along with my Gold Cup.

The Model 10 shot well, although I could not live up to it's potential today. The magna grips are not my choice when it comes to a "shootin' Smith" but I will probably keep them on the gun anyway. The Gold Cup, on the other hand, would likely shoot a smaller single hole if it were in more competent hands. Even so, it consistently amazes me when I shoot it.

I thought about Doc as I shot. Like many older people, the world he once knew had changed into something unrecognizable, something fearful. Unwilling to simply acquiesce to the inevitability of time, Doc decided to continue living, but to fortify himself against the dangers inherent in becoming old and frail. By choosing to arm himself, he chose to refuse frailty and again become the master of his fate. He would not be prey.

I would not want to be at the other end of Doc's revolver. He is a man of conviction, purpose and uncommon wisdom. Although the bulls eye laughed at him today, I have no doubt that Doc would not go down without a fight if he or his Gertie were threatened. Such is often the case with old men who have lived and loved long. They are the last victim a criminal would want to tangle with once the playing field is leveled with a gun. They are ready to accept death.

On the way home, I stopped to purchase my own bride a bouquet.

Memories

Some stories are so incredible that a person is hesitant to relate them. Such is a story of one woman I taught to shoot.

"Then said he unto them, But now, he that hath a purse, let him take it, and likewise his scrip: and he that hath no sword, let him sell his garment, and buy one."
Luke 22:36

Everyone has a God given right to self defense. The Lord helps those who help themselves.

Discovery at Seven Yards

It was a cold day. I had told Cassie to wear something to protect her from the wind. She had brought chapstick, but the wind was still. We went over the range operation rules, and with the first cold range, we walked her target out to seven yards.

When the range went hot, I showed her how to load a magazine and I reviewed the manual of arms for the Ruger MKII she was to fire. She was tentative at first, not wanting to hold the pistol in a firing grip while handling it. I explained to her that like last night, she only had to lay her index finger alongside the frame to be safe. I showed her again how the trigger pin does double duty as an indexing point for the finger. Then I pointed out that she was less likely to drop the pistol or swing it inadvertently in the wrong direction if it was properly held. That made the difference.

Cassie was a little concerned about the recoil from the pistol she thought was heavy. After her first few shots, that concern evaporated. Between magazines she examined her target through binoculars. I quickly saw that she needed to learn to load her own mags. She was wearing me out. I actually had to ask her to slow down and become a bit methodical. The girl was having fun!

With the next cold range call, we went forward to take a look at her targets. She was all over the paper, but mostly in the black. I was satisfied with the target, but even more happy with Cassie's performance. She was loading and shooting the pistol independently, and she was cognizant of the safety rules.

When I noticed Cassie locking her elbows, I asked her to relax them. I explained that locking the elbows leads to tremors in the hands at full extension. Those tremors make for difficult sighting. "Just raise the pistol up into your line of sight, make certain the sights are aligned over the target and squeeze the trigger smoothly. Don't agonize over it, just do it," I said. That's when she informed me that the little Ruger was getting heavy.

"Not to worry," I told her. We benched the Ruger, stuck a chamber flag in the chamber, and I retrieved my Colt Woodsman from my bag of goodies. The little Colt is an ideal pistol for someone with small hands like Cassie. The small, slender grip fits their hands well, and it is light as a feather. It is however, one of my prize pistols, and I tend to be a bit protective of it.

Cassie did not like the lack of a last shot automatic bolt hold back function on the Woodsman. Manipulating the safety to hold the bolt back for a cold range call was difficult for her. She complained the the black front sight on a black target was difficult to discern. When the range went cold again, I stuck a red and white adhesive scope target over the black. Cassie continued to shoot the Woodsman, but she was overly concerned with harming the pistol. When she accidentally dropped the original Colt magazine on the concrete, she asked for the Ruger again. Frankly, I was happy to comply.

I had one surprise left though. I had brought along a four inch taper barreled Ruger MKII. I removed it from the range bag. It's been said that in 1949 Bill Ruger placed a tapered barrel on the first production Ruger Standard to make it resemble the then popular Luger. The real benefit of the four inch tapered barrel is reduced weight and natural pointability though. Cassie took to it immediately.

At first, I was concerned that the thumb rest on the left grip panel might be in the wrong place for her small hands. Cassie found an elegant solution naturally. She placed both thumbs above the thumb rest, in a perfect high thumbs hold.

Cassie had found the pistol that shot best for her. Perhaps I needed to consider a Pac-Lite upper for one of my Rugers. When I inquired about it though, Cassie told me that she just liked the tapered barrel better. The Lugeresque grip angle of the MKII pointed instinctively for her. She was off again, nailing her target over and over. In her eagerness, I had to instruct her once not to stand on tip toe trying to get the sights closer to the target.

I did not teach stances today, I simply showed Cassie how to hold the pistol and fire it safely. Stances can come later. If anything it appeared that Cassie assumed a near Isosceles stance naturally. That is not my choice, but I am not here to teach others how I shoot. My job is to help shooters find what works best for them.

Today, Cassie was happy to step up to the firing line and ventilate her cardboard aggressor without worrying where her feet were or whether her torso was bladed. She blazed through 550 rounds of Federal bulk ammunition. She discovered the pistol that shot best for her. She discovered a pistol that met her present needs. She also discovered a little about herself. She discovered the joy of shooting, and that's good enough for me.

The Evolution of Cassie

Cassie is wanting to learn to shoot for self defense. Eventually she hopes to carry a gun. As a Medical Social Worker, she realizes that she sometimes enters into volatile situations in menacing locations. She has not told me whether she has actually been threatened or not. I really do not have a need to know that. Her right to self defense is absolute.

Cassie has shot handguns before with her father and husband. Before now, she has relied on her wits for her survival. Her wits are keen. She has survived.

As a five foot one woman, her ability to defend herself in a hand to hand lethal confrontation places her at a cruel disadvantage. She needs tools. She has made the commitment to evolve.

Last night, she recited the Four Rules, and she familiarized herself with the pistol she will shoot this afternoon.

Mom at the Range

Mom turned to me and said, “You know, I’d like to have a gun at home for self defense.” My blood ran cold and my eyes bugged. “Uh, ok mom. Maybe…”

Kennard took his mom shooting. She did quite well. So did Kennard.

Twofer

"Since then, I've been keeping my eye open for a good deal on a used G19. Well...lo and behold at the gun show there was a vendor with two Police turn-in G19's with night sights. They both had the expected holster wear but the muzzles were pristine, sharp, shiny rifling, smooth operation and triggers...well...they are Glocks so the triggers were..."

Curt scores a double. Not Glocks, new shooters.

Moving to the 1911

A surprise awaited QJ at the range this afternoon. I had finally allowed him to observe me shooting. He had noticed that I shot a 45 caliber 1911 frequently. He had not asked to shoot my preferred firearm though. Perhaps he was leery of the recoil or the noise. Perhaps the Condition One pistol he had seen in my holster bothered him.

As he was shooting his Buckmark, I removed a 9mm Colt Commander from my range bag. I locked back the slide and laid the polished blue pistol in front of him. "I'm not shootin' that thing!" he exclaimed.

"It's a nine millimeter. You've shot it before," I informed him.

"Yeah, but it's gonna kick!"

"Yes, it will, but you know how to control it," I continued. I showed him the basic manual of arms for a 1911, and then I stood a 9mm cartridge beside a .45 ACP cartridge on the bench. "I've been shooting this," I said, pointing to the 45.

QJ picked up the Colt pistol, and I showed him how to dry fire it. "You see," I said, "The trigger is very much like your Buckmark. It's not like the Beretta. This is a single action only pistol."

QJ dry fired the pistol several times. "It's like your Buckmark. When you chamber a round, it's cocked and ready to shoot. You have to engage the safety to carry it safely. In fact, it has three safeties." I showed him how the grip safety functioned.

"Ok, so where's the third one?" asked QJ.

"Between your ears," I replied. "Locked in your memory with the Four Rules. People get freaked out by this pistol because they can see the hammer cocked back. In truth, after you chamber a round on your Buckmark, the hammer is cocked back as well. You just can't see it."

QJ looked perplexed. "The thing is, once you grip this pistol properly and snick off the thumb safety, it will shoot the same way, every time," I continued.

"Like my Buckmark," said QJ.

"Exactly. The pistol is not unsafe, but you can be unsafe with it if you do not practice safe gun handling," I emphasized. "When you shoot this pistol, keep the thumb safety engaged until you have the barrel aligned with your target. Disengage it right before you place your finger on the trigger. Confirm your sight picture, and squeeze off the shot. Use the isometric grip I taught you. Same stuff, different gun."

I showed QJ how to load the 9mm magazine, and then how to insert it and release the slide using the slide stop. "It's yours to try," I told him.

QJ tentatively accepted the pistol, and slowly brought it to sights. "Now snick off the safety," I said. I quickly, discretely, evaluated his grip to ensure he would not get bitten by the hammer, and I waited as he squeezed off his first shot from John Moses Browning's brainchild.

Shooting the Beretta 92FS

Let's face it. Young gunnies are influenced by guns in the movies. Back when I was a young gunnie, 9mm double stack pistols were the happening thing, and the sexiest one of all was the pistol that Mel Gibson carried as L.A.P.D. Detective Martin Riggs in Lethal Weapon.

Of course, the pistol performed incredible feats along with it's handler, one of which was engaging a sniper armed with a rifle, while a unlit cigarette dangles from his lips. Hardcore macho stuff. In a sequel, the Beretta Riggs carried had a laser sight added. That made for great visuals on the silver screen, since the viewer could see exactly where the loose cannon detective was aiming.

Polymer was seen as a passing fad, and combined with the fact that the US military had just adopted the Italian pistol, the large capacity Beretta 92FS was the pistol to have among young gunnies. I bought one as soon as I left the military. Sadly, like many young gunnies, I paid a pretty penny for an image and a dream.

I found that the seductive black pistol did not bestow unerring accuracy upon me. Hollywood lied. Even though the heavy double action trigger was smooth, it was difficult to manage. The Beretta did have one thing going for it besides it's looks. In the right hands, it was sufficiently accurate, and it was always reliable. I've always held on to it, as the first significant item I purchased after I returned home, and Heaven help me, my first misguided concealed carry weapon.

I still use it as an instructional tool for new shooters. It is an illustration of my own folly. I later screwed on some Crimson Trace laser grips. I learned that even though a red dot on the chest may help a bad guy make an informed decision, I still had to control that darned trigger. With the laser, it becomes a valuable tool to demonstrate to new shooters how minor flaws in sight alignment can cause inaccuracies at greater distances. The laser also helps a shooter understand just how much the muzzle of the gun moves while the trigger is being pulled.

QJ had the Beretta at the range today, and he was impressed with the dampened recoil of a service sized 9mm pistol. I let him fire several magazines through the big black gun before I showed him how to turn on the laser.

His accuracy had suffered with the DA/SA Beretta. When he illuminated his target with the laser he instantly saw why. The red dot was dancing all over the target as though a cat were chasing it. "The laser doesn't help much," QJ told me.

"Right. You still have to keep the sights aligned while pulling the trigger. There is no magic panacea to marksmanship. The bullets do not follow the laser. The laser simply indicates where they will strike the target. You still have to do your part," I replied. "When you choose a handgun, your ability to operate the trigger is paramount." QJ turned off the laser and went back to the sights. Concentrating on the smoothness and the rate of his trigger pull, his shooting improved.

QJ liked the security of the decocker, he liked being able to hit the slide release with his thumb, and the capacity held a definite appeal to him. After we left the range, we talked a while about the choices that people make in a personal protection or concealed carry firearm. We discussed how many people take a journey of self discovery until they find the firearm that is most appropriate for their needs, how that choice is not always apparent at first and how different people make different choices, all correct for themselves.

I told QJ that with a little good fortune, if he wanted a Beretta, we could probably find one used for under $400 without much trouble. QJ decided to wait and try a few more handguns before making up his mind. Good choice Q.

More informtion on the evolution of the Beretta 92FS

Transition To Revolvers

We returned to the range after work today, and I had a surprise waiting for QJ. He was involved in shooting his Buckmark, and doing quite well, when I reached into my range bag to retrieve an old Smith & Wesson. When he finished his magazine, I laid it on the table in front of him.

"Oh man! That's an old man's gun!" laughed QJ.

"Perhaps...... But an old man can clean your clock with this thing."

"Bullshit."

The gauntlet had been tossed. QJ had been shooting only at the target on the right side of his frame at seven yards. I eyeballed him with my best Clint Eastwood eye twitch, and he stepped aside. As I slowly filled the old blue revolver's cylinder with 22 long rifle cartridges, I silently prayed.

As QJ watched, I placed six holes together on the left upper arm of the X.

"Damn. Let me try that!"

"Think you can handle it?" I asked. He smirked.

I showed QJ the basic manual of arms for a wheel gun, how to open and close the cylinder, how to load it and eject cartridges, and advised him on the double action trigger. I allowed him to dry fire the gun in double action. During a cold range, we changed to fresh targets. When the range was again hot, I told QJ "It's the same principles. Keep the sights aligned as you pull the trigger smoothly backwards."

QJ loaded the weathered old Model 17-3, brought it to sights, and pulled the trigger. He peered at the target. "There," I pointed. "In the cardboard about a foot underneath." QJ squeezed off the remaining five shots, and his results were not much better.

"This thing won't shoot."

"Do you need me to shoot it again?" I asked. He shook his head. "Look Q, once you can shoot a double action revolver accurately, there will be very few handguns that you cannot shoot well. It's all in the trigger control. Marksmanship is 10% sight alignment. Any chimp can do that. Ilsa can align sights if taught how. Marksmanship is in controlling the fingers on your hands so you don't pull the sights out of alignment while pulling the trigger. 90% of marksmanship is trigger control."

I extended my hand, cupped my lower three fingers and then curled my index finger slowly back. My lower three fingers remained in place. "You must train your index finger to operate independently of the rest," I said. "It must do it's job alone. I want you to try again. Think less about aligning sights, more about controlling your hands and your fingers. Make the pull smooth, steady, sure. Do not let your sights wander, but keep the trigger pull consistent. Don't jerk it, and don't fret over it. Just pull it." I picked up the revolver and showed QJ the rate that I wanted him to pull the trigger.

QJ loaded his tormentor again, and raised it to sights. This time he was on the paper with a couple of hits in the black. "Work on it," I told him. "When you can get all six in the black with this revolver, you will be blasting X rings with your Buckmark. A double action revolver accepts no excuses. You must have your fundamentals together to shoot one well." As I watched, QJ continued to put lead down range. I was pleased to see him quickly improve as he worried less about sight alignment and more about trigger control.

As QJ continued to shoot the 22 caliber revolver, I returned to my range bag. I pulled ou a stainless Model 67-1 and laid it on the bench. I placed a box of .38 specials beside it. "I think you are ready," I told him. QJ emptied the 22 revolver and laid it on the bench, cylinder open. He opened the white box of thirty-eights.

"Wow, these are big."

"The fundamentals are the same," I said. "Steady, consistent squeeze to the rear with the sights aligned. The gun firing should be a surprise. There will be more recoil. It won't hurt you."

QJ loaded the revolver, raised it to sights. His grip on the gun wasn't perfect, but I did not correct him. Too much instruction can be a bad thing, overwhelming a student. QJ managed to get all shots on the paper, double action. Today's mission was accomplished. After a few more cylinders on the Model 67, he decided to return to his Browning. Bulls eye! He was transferring over what he had learned on the revolvers to the pistol.

As we were packing to leave, a man showed up with an long barreled X frame Smith & Wesson. "Let's watch him," I said to Q.

We settled on the bench behind the firing line and observed the loading of the weapon. The shooter rotated his shoulders a couple of times and raised it to sights. BLAM! "Jesus!" exclaimed QJ. X ring.

"Keep watching Q....."

BLAM! Dirt in front of the target frame. BLAM! Berm. BLAM! Cardboard. BLAM! Cardboard. "Remember QJ, you need to be able to consistently put all rounds where you want, no matter what." We continued to watch as the man put away his over sized hand cannon and opened a box containing a black Sig P229. We watched him fire a couple of magazines through the gun, peppering the paper. I instructed QJ to watch the double action/single action function, as well as the shooters trembling hands.

As we were getting up to leave, the fellow firing the Sig offered to let QJ fire a few rounds through his pistol. QJ was surprised, but accepted the opportunity. Not being greatly familiar with Sigs, I quickly inquired as to the caliber. 9mm. Good. QJ shoved a magazine into the pistol, and methodically fired off ten rounds. When he laid the pistol down and turned back around, a huge grin was across his face.

Q's safety consciousness and concentration on marksmanship paid off. His targets were good. His attitude and progress was even better. We stopped at a truck stop on the way home to get a Coke for me and an Icee for QJ. As we discussed what he had learned and accomplished, QJ asked me "Why did that guy let me shoot his gun?"

"People who shoot want other people to shoot," I replied. "There isn't a more inclusive group of Americans around. He recognized you as a good guy, someone learning to shoot. He wanted to help. You exercising your rights helps him preserve his. We are all partners in preserving the second amendment."

So, for QJ, here are a couple of "old men" firing their "old man guns." Enjoy.

Shooting The Buckmark

QJ and I hit the range this afternoon to squeeze off the first shots from his Browning Buckmark. Before we began shooting I familiarized him with the controls. When he was ready, he took the pistol and began getting all his shots in the black. QJ was thrilled. I was very pleased to see that he grasped the handgun in just the grip that I had taught him, one that will easily transfer over to larger calibers.

When I noticed that QJ was taking quite a bit of time lining up his sights, I introduced him to the concept of a flash sight picture. For almost a half hour Q worked on flash sighting from low ready, while I provided a verbal buzzer. He was as pleased with his progress as I was, and the trembling quest for a perfect sight picture was eliminated.

We noticed a gentleman arrive to our left with a shiny new black plastic box with a big G on top. "Let's sit out the next hot range and observe," I told QJ. My student saw why as the fellow stuffed a full magazine in his Glock and chambered a round with his finger on the trigger.

"He shouldn't be doin' that!" exclaimed QJ.

"Just sit tight, he'll be out of ammunition shortly," I replied.

Sure enough, fifty rounds later, the fellow had ten or twelve holes in his target, or at least in the cardboard surrounding it. The rest had failed to strike the target at all, screaming past it to the berm, or popping up tufts of dirt from the ground in front of him.

"That's a classic example of learning to shoot without instruction or guidance," I told QJ quietly. The newcomer began to pack up his 9mm plastic fantastic and we resumed the line.

"Now I see why you have me on a 22," QJ said.

"Yeah, you can't miss quick enough or frequently enough to save your hide," I responded, "For the gun to do it's job, you have to be able to do your's." QJ nodded in silent agreement and returned to showing how it is done.

The Range Know-It-All

Every range has a know-it-all. It may be a black shirted mall commando in camo BDU pants. It may be an old geyser with faded USMC tattoos on his arms. Today it was a fat old man in a pink shirt with a Sig Sauer X-5 race gun on his hip. Little Darling was shooting her Mossberg 505.

"You planning to shoot trap little lady?"

Bam! ker-chunk Bam!

"Skeet?"

Ker-chunk Bam! ker-chunk Bam!

"Why do you have your target so close? Seven yards is too close. If you are going to pattern that gun....."

"I'm training to defend myself."

"You planning on shootin' somebody?"

"No, I'm planning to defend myself."

"From what?"

"Whatever I need to."

"You going to shoot 'em with that gun? Maybe you need to hide and call the police instead. What if you shoot a family member? What is that? A .410?"

"It's a twenty gauge. Dad says always identify your target and know what's beyond it before you pull the trigger. Why would I shoot a family member if I identify them first?"

I notice a fat fruit talking to my daughter. I table my pistol and wander over to observe. He turns to me.

"This here little girl plans to defend herself with that shotgun. What do you think of that?"

"I think that's damned fine," I replied.

"But what if they're not dangerous? What if it's just some kids breaking in for drug money?"

Little Darling piped up. "How are you supposed to know that Mister? Dad says if they are not a threat to your life, you don't shoot, but if they are, you shoot until the threat is no longer a threat."

"If somebody breaks into your house, what you need to do is hide in a closet with your shotgun and fire two shots into the ceiling."

"Do you think being deaf makes it easier for a victim to be raped and murdered?"

"Hrrrmmmph"

"Mister, I think you need to go back in the closet yourself," I said.

Crickets...............He waddled off.

"Daddy I don't think he would fit in a closet."

"Hmmmmmmmm. Make sure you keep your beads aligned on that target when you eject your hull Darling."

"OK Daddy."

Ker-chunk Bam! ker-chunk Bam! ker-chunk Bam! ker-chunk Bam!

Another Shooter is Born

There is compelling evidence that the origins of gun control in the United States is racism. It is a shame that even today, many responsible black citizens are brainwashed by the established minority advocacy organizations that are vehemently anti-gun. Like all my students, I refused to take QJ shooting until he could recite the Four Rules. Yesterday, he approached me and spouted them off, and we went to Wal-Mart to buy a bulk pack of Federal 22 Long Rifle ammo.

QJ was rather amazed that he could just buy ammunition, a question of whether it was for a handgun or a rifle, a few bucks, and we were on our way to familiarizing him with the pistol he would shoot in the morning. QJ felt the need to learn to use a gun for self defense. We had talked about him getting a CCW permit, and set that, along with effective skills and marksmanship with a firearm as his goal.

Last night I thought about how strange it was that QJ did not know his rights guaranteed by the Constitution. He is a good and productive American. He had served, a proud Air Force man. He had defended the ideals enshrined in the US Constitution. Yet he had not taken advantage of them himself. He simply was unaware that he could.

We met at McDonalds this morning, and discussed his goals and the Four Rules again over egg mcmuffins and hash browns. We also discussed the safety rules governing the range. I had stuffed my stainless Ruger MKII in the range bag, and I planned to put QJ on my usual program of learning to shoot.

I started QJ out at seven yards, and at first he was very stiff. He wanted desperately to do things right, to not violate any range rule. His head was swarming with thoughts. But as he shot, and watched other people shoot, he became more comfortable and loosened up. Then he had an epiphany. He realized that he must align the top of the sights as well as place the front sight in the notch of the rear. Suddenly, he was in the black, then blasting a ragged hole, and he was hooked.

He was obviously feeling more empowered. During a cold range break I suggested that QJ might want to place a 22 pistol that I knew about at Neil's Pawn Shop on layaway. "That way you can come back and shoot on your own time, you won't need me," I told him.

"Sure, I'll buy it if it's a good deal, but I want to keep it at your house," he responded.

"What?!! Why?"

"I don't want it in my house until I have the papers to be legal," he stated firmly.

"Q, you are not a felon or a nutcase. You are a free man. This is a free state in a free country. You don't need to have 'papers' to own a gun and keep it in your home," I informed him.

"Really?"

"Really. This is your birthright QJ, you are an American. There are some politicians who would take away your right to own a gun if they could, but you can help gun owners keep them out of office and preserve these rights for everyone if you wish."

We shot some more, reinforcing the basics. Finally QJ was ready. "We will have to go by the ATM," he said.

We walked into Neil's Pawn Shop together, and we asked to see the Browning Buckmark under the counter. It was in like new condition, although the plastic box was missing. Neil was wanting $219 for it. "New shooter discount?" I asked. Neil smirked. He knew the price was fair. QJ placed the pistol on lay away, and we talked a bit more in the parking lot. QJ was still trying to mentally grasp what had just happened. The wheels in his head were spinning at breakneck speed, gaining traction in freedom and leaving the shackles of imagined oppression behind.

Welcome to the free world Q, it is now up to you to help us keep it free.