3 Gun

I routinely scour the corners of the Internet for relatively unknown gun blogs. Some I have been following for years, and they’ve grown huge. Some have dropped off dramatically, and that makes me sad. A big topic of discussion seems to be 3 gun competitions. 

Now I have only ever competed in one such event. A World War II style match. I was invited to attend by a local range owner and was asked to take some pictures as well. Little did I know that one, there wasn’t an entrance fee for spectators, and two, my natural completely unhealthy competitive streak would rear its ugly head. So after watching a few other competitors warm up I wanted to play too. After a quick trip to Home Depot in my untrustworthy Ford Explorer to buy a carpenter’s belt I decided I was going to shoot. The range owner was willing to lend me the required weaponry. 

A Colt 1911, a refurbished foreign made M3 Grease Gun, and a Model 12 Winchester shotgun. 

Luckily I own a Model 12 and a few 1911s so familiarity wasn’t a problem. The Grease Gun was a different story, I had never even held one before. After finding someone there to show me how to run the damn thing I was ready to go.

 Side note: the gentleman who familiarized me was old enough to have actually helped design the thing. 

Anyway, I was slated to run second to last of the 60ish competitors. I watch another dozen or so guys between the ages of 40 and about 60 shoot the course before my turn. I get ready for my turn and notice my official just happens to be the same guy who showed me the ins and outs of the grease gun earlier. I tell him as nicely as I can that I plan on sprinting the whole course, hopefully he can keep up. I start the course and quickly notice it’s set up more for 1940’s era rifles, not for sub guns made from discarded Chevys. I make due basically by doing a fancy looking version of spray and pray. The shotgun and pistol sections went by fairly flawlessly. I owe that mostly to luck and the fact i could shoot, clean, and strip Model 12s and 1911s before I could ride a bike. I ended up finishing 4th. However, that same old man invited me back the next week to shoot his BAR and that was admittedly, fucking awesome. 

The following year the old man’s wife asked me to use his BAR and I won the event. The winners plaque I received still hangs proudly in his honor. Eventually, I was able to purchase BAR and it’s one of the few guns that I’ll never sell. 

R.I.P Russ



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