I Bought A WWII M1 Garand. Part 1

They day had finally come, my FFL had called and said the gun was in. I wasn't like most people who wanted a mint condition perfect rifle, what they call collector grade. I wanted it to be beat to hell albeit functional. Luckily I had found just the one, serial numbers matching and all. Lots of character. Oh the stories that rifle could tell.


I entered the store giddy as a school boy. I had wanted one of these my whole life but I had always spent my money on other things. Military history was a hobby of mine and WWII was my favorite subject to delve into. So many different stories, causes, and effects to look into. A true 'world' war that changed the world forever.

I practically sprinted to the counter. Bud was waiting for me with the rifle in a hard plastic case open on the counter. He had the paper work ready for me to fill out. I had bought many guns from my old pal Bud. He was smiling ear to ear, he knew how excited I was for this one. I stood, staring for a moment taking in the rifle. It was covered in scratches, dings, and a chip missing from the butt plate. Perfect.

"Alright Bud give me a pen"

"What? No hello, how you doing? You know my policy, BYOP. If you forgot your pen you can always purchase one from me for a nominal $19.99" he joked.

I gave him a half smile and stuck out my hand. He smiled and dropped a Bic pen in my hand.

"You charge 20 dollars for this piece of crap pen?"

We laughed and I scribbled my info down as fast as possible. When I was finished I signed it and held the paper out for him. The NICS or "National Instant Criminal Background Check System", usually took about 20 minutes to come back. Bud took the paper and turned to walk to his fax machine in the back.

"Hopefully the fax is working today, lately its been all messed up. You might have to come back tomorrow!" I could tell he was trying not to laugh as he disappeared through the office door.

I took this time to handle the rifle, worked the action, inspected the bore and thought to myself about how each and every scratch was put on it. I would be heading back home right after I left Bud's. I had a cabin in the woods with a small lake and 40 acres. More importantly, I had made myself a pretty cool shooting range. Complete with steel targets, poppers, dueling trees, and gongs out to 200 yards. The first thing I was going to do was take this thing for a spin.

Bud re-emerged from the back office, "alright man youre all good, have fun with her!"

"Thanks Bud I'll see you soon."

I grabbed the rifle case and headed for the door. Just before I grabbed the handle Bud yelled "Wait!"

I turned and he threw me one M1 Garand clip loaded with 30-06 ammunition.


"Careful with that ammo now, you hear?" He said with a serious look.

"Yea, thanks." I said a little confused. He knew I had plenty of ammo stashed up at my place. I decided not to think much on it. Probably just a friend giving me a little gift. It quickly left my mind as I hurried to the truck and sped out of there.

It was a quick 20 minute drive up the road to my place. The winding forest road was always a beautiful place to drive through. It was fall now and it was my favorite time of the year. The reds, yellows, oranges, browns, and greens made the most beautiful collage of nature. I almost missed my driveway taking in the beauty.

I raced down the drive way and threw the transmission in park. Grabbing the rifle case I headed out back to the range. I didn't even go inside to grab more ammo, hell I just wanted to take it for a test drive, I would use the rounds Bud had given me. Putting the case on my shooting table, I unlatched the plastic clips and opened the case. I pulled the rifle out and a huge smile spread across my face. Reaching into my pocket I pulled out the clip Bud had given me and loaded it into the gun. I let the bolt slam home and shouldered the rifle. Looking down the sights my mind began to wonder about the people who had looked down these sights before me. I found the red plate out at 200 yards in my sights and slowly moved my finger to the trigger. Slowly pulling backwards until the firing pin released and punctured the primer, sending the 150 grain projectile screaming down the barrel.

But everything went black. I tried to move or open my eyes but there was nothing. I couldn't feel a thing.

Slowly a grey sad sky began to materialize. I could feel salty water spraying on my face and being jolted up and down on the roughest boat ride ever. I looked to my left and my right, I was surrounded by soldiers, the boat approaching a beach. The ocean was filled with boats just like the one I was in. Slowly realizing where I was I looked down at my hands. My white knuckles had a death grip on it. It was my rifle, but different, brand new. The man next to me turned and threw up just as mortars and machine guns started to rain down hell all around.

Holy $h*t! This is Omaha Beach!

We were getting closer to the beach. The noise of battle was defining, planes streaked in the sky above, and the naval ships far behind us unleashed hell from their giant guns. The Luetenet up front started to yell something as the ramp in the front dropped. Just then bullets stated whizzing in and the guys around me started falling. I urged myself to move forward as a round grazed the butt stock of my rifle knocking it to the ground. I dropped to my knees frantically trying to find it in the soup of bodies and blood red sea water. My hands finally found it and I took note of the damage done to my prized possestion.

"So that's where that gouge came from."

"What the hell is going on, is this a dream?"

No time to think. Someone grabbed me by the arm.

"Get up! We have to move now or we'll die in this God damned boat!" He screamed at me.



I urged my self up and together we waded through the water and up onto the sand. Hunkering down behind some Belgian gates that had been place on the beach as obstacles. Above us on the cliffs ahead, relentless machine gun fire rained in on every possible target. This was madness. There were people with limbs missing crying out for help. I started to feel the hate rise up in me. I shouldered the rifle and stared firing toward the bunkers. Trying anything to get those damned guns to shut up!

To be continued...

Adding a visual for those first moments on that beach...

a reply to: intrptr

Perfect, I might add that in there. Thanks!

Welcome to the club !!!
Make sure and get a bayonet as well ....... and then .... practice, practice, practice.
But most of all lean how to fight like a Indian.


Years after, my dad could still take a empty clip and fake the ping. ( German soldiers would raise there heads upon hearing it. )

Buck

P.S. Show me your thumbs

That was awesome Are we gonna get a story for each round fired I wonder?

I have to say, Bud reminds me of the shopkeeper in a kids show I used to watch, called Mister Ben. Every episode he would go and rent a new outfit from the costume shop and be transported into that world.

Can't wait for the next bit.

Ummmm...just a couple words of wisdom...(minimally for others who may read this thread, and maybe for yourself given you are a new Garand owner and may not be aware).

You shouldn't just fire any old ".30-06" ammo through the Garand. It was designed to fire a certain bullet weight and a certain type of powder. Cartridges outside this range can damage the rifle, and in your case a piece of history.

You should not fire bullets with weights over 175 grains or much below 150 grains. And you should not fire loads with powder slower than IMR 4064. If you're not sure...don't fire it! If you do...your serial numbers may no longer match once you get it repaired. And, it won't be cheap either (possibly more than the purchase price of the rifle).

If you shoot powder much faster than IMR 4895 the action may likely jam because muzzle pressures are too low.

The best bet is to always shoot "Garand safe" 7.62x63 ammo. This is also known as "M2 Ball" or ".30-06 Springfield" ammo (although the latter terminology can get you into trouble if buying foreign ammo).

I'm sure you probably knew all this, but some of the other readers may not.

Enjoy that new (well, to you) Garand!

ETA...if you don't reload, and don't understand the powder terminology I referred to above, then it's even more important to heed the 'best bet' recommendations (above). Long live the Garand!

ETA 2...I probably should have noted at the beginning...just because a .30-06 round will chamber doesn't mean it can/should be fired in the M1 Garand. This is one of the unique things about the Garand. It just happens to shoot a very popular round (one originally designed for the M1903, and subsequently the M1).

a reply to: Flyingclaydisk

Thanks but this Garand is purely fictional. Though in real life I really do want one I always blow my money on my ARs and the like. They're like legos and addictive as hell to swap parts on. I just got a 1911 to add to my collection so it'll be a while before I can drop some more money on my addiction. I will eventually have an M1 though!

a reply to: SprocketUK

a story for each round fired I wonder?

I was hoping to do something like that.

Can't wait for the next bit.

Thanks!

originally posted by: flatbush71

.....

P.S. Show me your thumbs

ROFLMAO!!! Let him get a few rounds through it first! If you open your widows you might be able to hear the (YELP) from where you are!

OP...do post a picture of your thumbs after about 50 or so rounds! You can take the dressings off, don't worry we're not squeamish! LOL.

originally posted by: FauxMulder
a reply to: Flyingclaydisk

... I just got a 1911 to add to my collection ...

Just one???

ETA...BTW, you can pick up an M1 from CMP for a heck of a lot less than that 1911 (well, a new one anyway). If you ever have any questions about the M1, I happen to be acquainted with the World's foremost authority on the M1 Garand rifle. This guy has probably forgotten more about Garands than most leading collectors will ever know! It's pretty telling when the National Archives, Smithsonian and virtually all of the original manufacturer historians seek out his advice! His collection would bring even the hardened collector to his knees. It's, in a word, STAGGERING! What he considers to be an "average" rifle would be considered to be not only 'World Class', but simply "no longer available, anywhere, at any price" by the rest of the collecting world. I'm dead serious too.

Hey, this is good sh*t!

I'm in.

a reply to: Flyingclaydisk

I'll be like this:

a reply to: FauxMulder

I know, OP, your feeling about the memories these weapons hold having finally acquired mine last year. Mine is a collector's item, much as tea pots or maybe baseball bats for some people.

That beatup, walnut stock herald's back to a time when, as a child, I was dimly aware that the entire world was in honest peril from a true mad man.

So many people these days find it impossible to accept that guns like these and the reasonable use of them saved the world.

a reply to: Flyingclaydisk

Yea just one of those for now.

Thanks I would love to get my hands on that guys collection! I really do just want a beat up one with lots of character. Not horrible condition but I'm not too worried about it being all perfect with all the numbers on all pieces matching serial numbers etc. I have checked out CMP, that's most likely where I will go when I decide to pull the trigger on it (pun intended)!

a reply to: TarzanBeta

Thank you!

a reply to: Aliensun

So many people these days find it impossible to accept that guns like these and the reasonable use of them saved the world.

Because...they've never had to live in a world where their very future, and the future of all their subsequent generations, absolutely depended on the very freedom these tools, at the hands of a generation far more courageous than they will ever be, guaranteed. And thanks to the lives and blood shed by those willing to fight for that freedom hopefully they never will.

It's really that simple.

a reply to: FauxMulder

M-1 Thumb



Buck

a reply to: flatbush71

The really nasty ones are where they twist their thumb and yank it out at the same time.

Those ones usually leave a mark.

a reply to: flatbush71

Years after, my dad could still take a empty clip and fake the ping. ( German soldiers would raise there heads upon hearing it. )

Waaait for it...

I've got scares, a bunch of them.
I'm a southpaw and to lazy to hold the bolt.

Buck