Slingshots and expert M-1 rifle

Growing up in the 30s, if you were a boy, meant owning a slingshot and hoping to soon own a .22 rifle. Making a slingshot was simple: Take the crotch of a tree branch of even a sapling that had forked out. Add two strips of rubber cut from an old inner tube and the tongue from a discarded shoe. It was nothing like the slingshot that David slew the giant Goliath with, but still a force to be reckoned with.

Our family owned a single barrel 12 gauge shotgun and a .22 rifle. The .22 rifle was handed down from my grandfather to my father and as each boy to to a certain age or size he got to use the rifle. As we got older and could stand the kick from the 12 gauge shotgun we could hunt with this gun also. The shotgun was a “longtom” and kicked like an Army mule. The .22 rifle was a rolling block single shot. It had rocky mountain sights and a hexagon barrel. It its day it was probably one of the best .22 rifles made. I never shot a revolver or pistol while growing up.

We never had money to spend on target practice with the rifle but we had lots of contests with slingshots. The rifle shell cost about 25 cents a box but we didn’t have very many quarters. The small rocks used in the slingshots were everywhere and they were free. We would line up 10 cans or bottles on a board and then see who would get the most hits using only 10 rocks. On rare occasions I would get 10 out of 10. If you won you were referred to as a sharpshooter for a few days or until next time and maybe for 0 for 10.

The Behms started leaving for military duty and I found myself in an infantry division. Using a rifle and marching was synonymous with infantry and fortunately I had good experiences in both of these categories, as we hunted and walked about everywhere.

About the sixth week of basic training we would spend the entire week on the rifle range. Up to that time I thought the best shots in the Army were called sharpshooters. I found out that there was another group called experts. The final two days were used to qualify for marksman, sharpshooter or expert.

In our company we had an ex-policeman who was rifle and pistol champion from his precinct in Cleveland, Ohio. Also a soldier who was rifle champion of a National Guard unit in Milwaukee.

There was a challenge out to see who would be champion of our unit. Everyone who wanted in the contest had to come up with a dollar. I was a reluctant participant. About half of the company entered and the pot would be $130 — a staggering sum when you realize our monthly wage was $50 and my take home pay was $27.

We come down to the final item with the policeman leading and the National Guard solider and myself not far behind. The last part of the test was nine shells in your M-1. This was the eight shot clip and one in your chamber. We would shoot at a jumping target. Nine jumps about two seconds apart. The guardsman hit seven out of nine but could not get all nine shots off. The policeman hit seven out of nine with two near-bullseyes. I had nine, nine shots and nine bullseyes. The policeman and I ended up in a tie. The policeman suggested a shootout using Army 45 pistols. I said let’s have a real contest using slingshots. He said, “No dice.” The officers in charge of the range asked me, “Where did you learn to shoot like that?” He then said, “Split the pot.” I was $65 richer and an Expert M-1 rifle shooter.

I often wonder how we would have come out if he accepted my challenge of a slingshot shootout.

For nearly 25 years, until his death in 2015, retired grocer Don Behm wrote a column for The Storm Lake Times, “Cracker Barrel.” Don’s everyman view of everyday life was a favorite of Times readers. This was first published on Feb. 22, 1995.