Speaking of 1911's...(I may have told this one before)

When I was stationed in Keflavik, Iceland (1987-8) the Naval Security Group decided we needed to be able to provide our own security to some degree and implemented the Auxiliary Security Force. Basically, volunteer sailors would be instructed in the use of the 1911, the M14 and the shotgun for emergency defense. Those weapons were available in small numbers at all NSG stations and had been languishing in armories for years.

When this idea surfaced, I volunteered and since I and my boss were the only ones that knew for sure which end the bullet came out of, we were designated as trainers.

I pulled the half dozen or so Korean War Era 1911's out of the safe, stripped, cleaned, lubed and function-checked them. Then, as an initial exercise, we took all the Chiefs and Officers out to the Marine range for some practice. Kef was a VERY small station, 4 officers (CO, XO, Commo and my Boss, the Maintenance Officer) and 5 or 6 Chiefs myself included.

So anyway, we set up some standard 25 yard targets, went through the safety and familiarization drills and started punching paper. Most of us did pretty well considering lack of experience and superannuated equipment with military sights.

The XO, however, seemed to be having trouble finding the paper. It's relevant to note that he was a little guy with the worst case of Little Man Syndrome I've ever seen. Of course, the problem was the weapon, not the operator. That seemed at least possible so I had him make the weapon safe and then looked it over good. Nothing obviously wrong, no looser than any of the others, so I loaded 5 in a magazine and put them down-range.

I went and got the target and there were 4 in or touching the black and one flyer out in the 8 ring.

Without thinking, and right there in front of the Skipper and everyone else I said "I don't think it's the weapon, XO."

I heard my Boss suck in his breath and glanced at the Skipper. I'm not exactly an expert at reading body language, but it was pretty obvious the Skipper was having to REALLY work at keeping a straight face.

The XO didn't think much of me before this incident. He actively HATED me afterwards. Fortunately, I PCS'd out before he had a chance to really screw me over.

quote:

Originally posted by Rubec:
I was an aviation mechanic stationed in Germany in the late ‘70s at what used to be an old Luftwaffe base during WWII. A buddy & I would trade guard duty shifts with other soldiers so we could pull it together. We’d do back to back shifts, 4hr block of time, and explore off limits places of the airfield. Underground maintenance, housing, mechanical complexes, hangers, etc.. Very cool historical areas but off limits due to safety & security issues. Though technically still within the area assigned to guard, I’m glad I never had to explain up the chain of command to the BC why I wasn’t “guarding” the airfield like I was supposed to.

Did that happen to be Harvey Barracks in Kitzingen?

Fliegerhorst Kaserne in Hanau, Germany.

quote:

Originally posted by PASig:

quote:

Originally posted by Rubec:
I was an aviation mechanic stationed in Germany in the late ‘70s at what used to be an old Luftwaffe base during WWII. A buddy & I would trade guard duty shifts with other soldiers so we could pull it together. We’d do back to back shifts, 4hr block of time, and explore off limits places of the airfield. Underground maintenance, housing, mechanical complexes, hangers, etc.. Very cool historical areas but off limits due to safety & security issues. Though technically still within the area assigned to guard, I’m glad I never had to explain up the chain of command to the BC why I wasn’t “guarding” the airfield like I was supposed to.

Did that happen to be Harvey Barracks in Kitzingen?

Fliegerhorst Kaserne in Hanau Germany.

Midnight golf cart races !! We had an 18-hole golf course on base at my last duty station.