Anyone among us SD.net gun owners have this rifle?From Reader Greg B.:
My dad was in Korea early 60's on DMZ. Didn't know it until now, but he saw some action (likely a lot) against infiltrating North Koreans. I would LOVE to find his rifle. I have posted on two rifle sites (www.milsurpshooter.net is excellent BTW) and am in contact with CMP.
Please post something to help me locate: M1 Garand, International Harvester Corporation (IHC) Serial Number: 5043939
Easier to win the lottery, but anything can happen! Please help. It would be my "holy grail" of weapons and what a link to my father!
Attention Garand owners:
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- Glocksman
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Attention Garand owners:
Help this fellow find the Garand his Dad carried in the Army.
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Damn... I think my big brother has Dad's Garand....
Me: Nope, that's why I have you around to tell me.
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They would be turned back in along with all of a soldiers other equipment. Important as the rifle is, it wasn't something you even always had while in service, espically when out of a combat zone. And that's assuming you got issued with one or another personal weapon in the first place. Many troops did not because they where assigned well away from any combat and had no need of one. Though all troops in all services did get at least some training with small arms. But that could be a short as only a few hours with a pistol, one, for say a fighter pilot.Elheru Aran wrote:Small question-- did WWII GI's keep their Garands after they were mustered out? Or did they have to turn them back in? Just wondering...
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Wow. I wish him luck, but I'm afraid the odds are pretty long against him.
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Interestingly enough, I just found out that International Harvester's Garands were made right here in Evansville in what is now a Whirlpool plant.
Small world, eh?
Small world, eh?
"You say that it is your custom to burn widows. Very well. We also have a custom: when men burn a woman alive, we tie a rope around their necks and we hang them. Build your funeral pyre; beside it, my carpenters will build a gallows. You may follow your custom. And then we will follow ours."- General Sir Charles Napier
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Literally plowshares into swords. The odds are is that the rifle has been melted down, but I wish I him luck! I'll check the next gunshow if I get to it.Interestingly enough, I just found out that International Harvester's Garands were made right here in Evansville in what is now a Whirlpool plant.

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Re: Attention Garand owners:
Nope, the one my dad bought had never been out of it's original box when he got it.Glocksman wrote:Help
Anyone among us SD.net gun owners have this rifle?
I'm not saying it's impossible that this guy will find his dad's rifle but he's going to have to be incredibly lucky.
We had to cary beat to hell lead filled garands in Navy boot so who knows what could have happened to a weapon that was used during the Korean war.
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Point him over to the Civilian Marskmanship Program site. They have loads of surplus M1s for sale, and it just might happen that they have his.
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Linky:http://www.odcmp.com/
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There is also a chance that it got filled in and is being used as a ceremonial piece, or any of a half dozen other fates that await the millions produced. His odds are low but I wish him luck.

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Yeah, the odds are low but you never know until you ask, and I think he knows it.CmdrWilkens wrote:There is also a chance that it got filled in and is being used as a ceremonial piece, or any of a half dozen other fates that await the millions produced. His odds are low but I wish him luck.
I hope he does manage to come up with it because it would be a neat link to his Dad's past to have.
Who knows, if we can repeal the '86 MG registration ban, maybe your kids might wind up searching for the M16 you carried?
"You say that it is your custom to burn widows. Very well. We also have a custom: when men burn a woman alive, we tie a rope around their necks and we hang them. Build your funeral pyre; beside it, my carpenters will build a gallows. You may follow your custom. And then we will follow ours."- General Sir Charles Napier
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Howedar
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Petrosjko
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Well, it's funnier in person when he adds the accompanying frantic gestures, but it goes like this... he was part of a special operations outfit that functioned as combat engineers, with the primary job being to destroy the classified equipment on recon birds that got shot down. But they also did other stuff, mostly combat engineer-related, often getting parceled out all over the country doing stuff like defusing ejector seats that didn't eject, forcing the pilot to land with a hot seat.
Now you wouldn't believe it by looking at him now, or me, but back when he was a young'un, he was something of a runt. Skinny and a hair under average height. So in the grand logic of the military, they stick him with carrying the big gun for the unit, in this case a BAR.
Which he deemed to be entirely too heavy for him to carry. So after one routine in and out the helo is landed at the edge of a rice paddy, and just before getting on he dumps his BAR in the mud and jumps up and down on it until it's completely buried, then gets back on. 'Oops. Lost it.'
(This is the part where all his frantic gesticulations and hopping motions makes the story much more amusing)
So the Marine gunny who was the unit's top NCO knows that he probably ditched it, but didn't see him do it. So he tells him to pick up a new one, the nearest place to do it being an armory that happens to be tended by an warrant officer, Air Force I believe. Guy gives him a junk-ass BAR that shouldn't even be in service. He looks it over, takes it back to the gunny. Gunny goes to have a long discussion with the warrant officer, and ends up getting him issued a beautiful BAR, match barrel and what have you, just a lovingly tended, beautiful weapon.
(insert long, loving description from my father about just how wonderful a BAR this was. I think he even regrets a bit what came next.)
He said the warrant was practically crying when he signed it out.
And on the very next hop, into the mud it goes right before he gets onto the helo.
(Repeat frantic gesticulation and hopping motions)
At which point the gunny finally accedes to his request to carry the Mossberg shotgun his father had sent over from the states, which other than some occasional usage of a Garand, was his primary weapon of choice on both of his tours.
Now you wouldn't believe it by looking at him now, or me, but back when he was a young'un, he was something of a runt. Skinny and a hair under average height. So in the grand logic of the military, they stick him with carrying the big gun for the unit, in this case a BAR.
Which he deemed to be entirely too heavy for him to carry. So after one routine in and out the helo is landed at the edge of a rice paddy, and just before getting on he dumps his BAR in the mud and jumps up and down on it until it's completely buried, then gets back on. 'Oops. Lost it.'
(This is the part where all his frantic gesticulations and hopping motions makes the story much more amusing)
So the Marine gunny who was the unit's top NCO knows that he probably ditched it, but didn't see him do it. So he tells him to pick up a new one, the nearest place to do it being an armory that happens to be tended by an warrant officer, Air Force I believe. Guy gives him a junk-ass BAR that shouldn't even be in service. He looks it over, takes it back to the gunny. Gunny goes to have a long discussion with the warrant officer, and ends up getting him issued a beautiful BAR, match barrel and what have you, just a lovingly tended, beautiful weapon.
(insert long, loving description from my father about just how wonderful a BAR this was. I think he even regrets a bit what came next.)
He said the warrant was practically crying when he signed it out.
And on the very next hop, into the mud it goes right before he gets onto the helo.
(Repeat frantic gesticulation and hopping motions)
At which point the gunny finally accedes to his request to carry the Mossberg shotgun his father had sent over from the states, which other than some occasional usage of a Garand, was his primary weapon of choice on both of his tours.
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Howedar
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That's a sad story. Although if you dug them up tomorrow those BARs would probably still be fine...
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Petrosjko
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You honestly think so? In that humid an environment, buried in mud and muck?
You want a sad story, it was the first test runs on that extraction system they had... ever see the Dr. No? The whole 'balloon and wire' setup they had where you wear a harness connected to a balloon, and a passing cargo plane with an extractor rig snags the cable, yanking you into the sky and reeling you in.
They hyped it to high heaven, and on then they gathered a big mob of special forces types, pretty much every outfit they could grab hold of. Green Berets, SEALs, less publicized units and oddball outfits like the one he was in. They give a big speech about what a boon this thing is, and then have a SEAL up for the trial run of the demonstration. Plane goes by, snags the wire, and this screaming SEAL is zipped through the air in front of everyone. Turns how that when the plane snagged the rig, the force of getting yanked off the ground so fast it broke his fucking neck.
Then in a grand display of chutzpah, they turned around and asked if there were any volunteers for the afternoon trial run. Understandably, they didn't get any takers.
You want a sad story, it was the first test runs on that extraction system they had... ever see the Dr. No? The whole 'balloon and wire' setup they had where you wear a harness connected to a balloon, and a passing cargo plane with an extractor rig snags the cable, yanking you into the sky and reeling you in.
They hyped it to high heaven, and on then they gathered a big mob of special forces types, pretty much every outfit they could grab hold of. Green Berets, SEALs, less publicized units and oddball outfits like the one he was in. They give a big speech about what a boon this thing is, and then have a SEAL up for the trial run of the demonstration. Plane goes by, snags the wire, and this screaming SEAL is zipped through the air in front of everyone. Turns how that when the plane snagged the rig, the force of getting yanked off the ground so fast it broke his fucking neck.
Then in a grand display of chutzpah, they turned around and asked if there were any volunteers for the afternoon trial run. Understandably, they didn't get any takers.
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Howedar
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No, but BARs are pretty hardcore.Petrosjko wrote:You honestly think so? In that humid an environment, buried in mud and muck?
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