Texas, 1970.
The sun beat down from a cloudless sky, making the day hot, even though it was only mid morning. On the pistol range at a public shooting range, small arms fire sounded as shooters fired away with a variety of firearms. The young soldier on the end of the range was finishing up his Saturday morning practice with a well used Smith and Wesson model 18 revolver. It was the shorter K frame .22, with a 4 inch barrel, and it had been a companion on many camping trips. As he packed up his shooting bag and stepped back from the firing line, he noticed a group of young men staring at something down the line. He walked over and stood next to them and saw what had their attention.
A young woman was standing on the line, making careful work of her shooting. The fact that she was the only woman on that range would have been sufficient in itself to garner attention, but she would have been a standout even had there been a bunch of females on the line. Compactly built, in her middle 20's, no more than five foot two or three, she had a slim figure that was eye catching in the white blouse that ended above the short cut off jeans, and her long wavy brown hair was pulled back in a loose pony tail that ended a few inches above her waist. For a moment, all the soldier noticed was the girl. Then he looked at the gun she had in hand. It was a K frame Smith and Wesson revolver with a six inch barrel, and the girl stood at an angle to the target in a formal target shooting stance, gun held out in a one handed at arms length. In her grip, the gun looked almost too big for her. She fired and the sharp light crack was that of a .22. After her shot, she lowered the gun and looked through a spotting scope that was mounted in the open lid of a pistol box, and then she thumbed back the hammer and held out the gun to fire again.
"The girl looks like she knows what she's doing with that thing." said one of the watching men.
"Yeah, but good looking at she is, I wouldn't care if she can't hit the broad side of a barn standing inside the damm thing." said another.
The gathered men continued to stare admiringly and comment, and the soldier though for a moment. He thought of the motto of the British SAS; "He who dares, wins."
The girl fired again, and looking through the spotting scope, opened the cylinder of the revolver and ejected the empty shells, and put the gun back on a shelf in the pistol box. The young man made a choice to act. He walked over to the shooting bench where the girl was packing up, holding his open model 18 by the top frame. At first she didn't notice his approach, but then looked up with a guarded expression on her face. Now close up, the soldier saw how striking she was.
"I guess great minds think alike." was all he could think of at the moment, holding up his revolver.
The girl looked at him for a moment, then seeing his model 18, she smiled.
"Oh, it's a Smith and Wesson sort of like mine." she said, "but mine's bigger."
She smiled when she said it, and they both laughed, and the ice had been broken. Then the young man saw the targets she had reeled in. They were standard NRA 25 yard pistol targets, and if there was a hole outside the 8 ring, it was rare. The X ring in the middle of several were chewed out to one ragged hole.
"Wow, you do better with one hand than I do with two!"
"Well, I hope you don't let it give you an ego problem." she replied.
The talked guns for a bit, and then it was the moment of crisis. The soldier knew he couldn't let it just end like this.
"Say, do you want to get a coffee or something?" he asked her, pointing over at the snack truck standing by the office.
"I'd love a cold drink. It's getting pretty warm now, and a Coke would do nicely."
They walked over to the snack truck followed by the envious looks from the group of young men standing off to the side and got two ice cold bottles of Coke, and there was one chocolate iced doughnut left on the tray.
"I'll split it with you." The girl said. "I love chocolate!"
Taking their drinks and the doughnut over to a shaded picnic table, the soldier went to reach into his pocket for his knife, but the girl beat him to it. Her hand came out of her purse with a well used looking Imperial scout knife. Opening it deftly, she sliced the doughnut neatly in half, and then took a paper napkin and carefully cleaned the sugar icing off the gray patined blade. He watched her handle the knife with care, and was impressed that she actually seemed to care about the knife. He voiced his admiration.
"Actually, it's daddy's knife. He gave it to me recently to replace the little pen knife I had on my keychain." she told him, "He's carried this knife since he got it in the war, but I gave him a Swiss Army Knife for father's day, and he said he wanted me to have his scout knife. So I guess it means a lot to me that daddy gave me his knife that he carried so long. A knife is a handy thing to have in a purse, don't you think?"
She looked at him with a direct gaze, and as he looked into her brown eyes, and thought he wouldn't disagree with her for all the tea in China.
"Yes, a knife is a handy thing to have." he said. "I'm just a little surprised that you have one in your purse."
"Why, can't one of us girls like guns and knives?" she asked with a mischievous smile.
"By all means! I'm all for it."
They talked and for an hour after the Cokes and doughnut were gone found that they had a lot in common. She told him how her father had given her the .22 revolver for her high school graduation gift, and how they had shot a lot of .22's growing up in the rural Texas countryside. And of how she got interested in club competition, and her father let her borrow the High Standard target pistol that shared the case with the Smith and Wesson revolver. While they talked, he noticed how she absently handled the scout knife, sometimes shaving thin slivers off the weathered picnic table where a splinter stood up, or stroking the jigged bone scales.
"You know, you have to be the most interesting young lady I've ever met. I'd like to see more of you, I hope we can get together again. Maybe tonight we can go out, dinner and a movie or something." he told her.
"No, I'm pretty tied up tonight." she told him, and then seeing the disappointment on his face, "My troop is performing tonight."
"Performing?"he asked.
"We're doing Swan Lake at the Hemisphere, downtown."she told him, and then seeing the look on his face asked him, "let me guess, you've never been to a ballet performance?"
"Uh, well, no, not really."
She looked at him again with that mischievous smile for a moment, and then rooted around in the burlap hippy style bag that served as her purse. She took out a pad of paper and a pen and wrote a note, signing her name at the bottom.
"I'm going to leave a ticket at the box office tonight, you have to be there by 9 sharp. This note will get you backstage after, and we can go out after the performance for a bite to eat. I'll be starved by then, so be there." she told him. "Oh, and you'll have to dig up a coat and tie. Think you can do that?"
"I'll manage to find one, I wouldn't miss this for the world."
The girl got up to leave, and she closed the old scout knife carefully, following the blade down so it wouldn't snap.
They parted company, and the girl got into a white Datsun sedan, looked back and waved. The young soldier From Fort Sam Houston waved back as she pulled off.
"I guess I'd better go find a coat and tie" the soldier muttered to himself, "I think this can be something good."
Little did that young man know he was on the brink of a forty year relationship.
The sun beat down from a cloudless sky, making the day hot, even though it was only mid morning. On the pistol range at a public shooting range, small arms fire sounded as shooters fired away with a variety of firearms. The young soldier on the end of the range was finishing up his Saturday morning practice with a well used Smith and Wesson model 18 revolver. It was the shorter K frame .22, with a 4 inch barrel, and it had been a companion on many camping trips. As he packed up his shooting bag and stepped back from the firing line, he noticed a group of young men staring at something down the line. He walked over and stood next to them and saw what had their attention.
A young woman was standing on the line, making careful work of her shooting. The fact that she was the only woman on that range would have been sufficient in itself to garner attention, but she would have been a standout even had there been a bunch of females on the line. Compactly built, in her middle 20's, no more than five foot two or three, she had a slim figure that was eye catching in the white blouse that ended above the short cut off jeans, and her long wavy brown hair was pulled back in a loose pony tail that ended a few inches above her waist. For a moment, all the soldier noticed was the girl. Then he looked at the gun she had in hand. It was a K frame Smith and Wesson revolver with a six inch barrel, and the girl stood at an angle to the target in a formal target shooting stance, gun held out in a one handed at arms length. In her grip, the gun looked almost too big for her. She fired and the sharp light crack was that of a .22. After her shot, she lowered the gun and looked through a spotting scope that was mounted in the open lid of a pistol box, and then she thumbed back the hammer and held out the gun to fire again.
"The girl looks like she knows what she's doing with that thing." said one of the watching men.
"Yeah, but good looking at she is, I wouldn't care if she can't hit the broad side of a barn standing inside the damm thing." said another.
The gathered men continued to stare admiringly and comment, and the soldier though for a moment. He thought of the motto of the British SAS; "He who dares, wins."
The girl fired again, and looking through the spotting scope, opened the cylinder of the revolver and ejected the empty shells, and put the gun back on a shelf in the pistol box. The young man made a choice to act. He walked over to the shooting bench where the girl was packing up, holding his open model 18 by the top frame. At first she didn't notice his approach, but then looked up with a guarded expression on her face. Now close up, the soldier saw how striking she was.
"I guess great minds think alike." was all he could think of at the moment, holding up his revolver.
The girl looked at him for a moment, then seeing his model 18, she smiled.
"Oh, it's a Smith and Wesson sort of like mine." she said, "but mine's bigger."
She smiled when she said it, and they both laughed, and the ice had been broken. Then the young man saw the targets she had reeled in. They were standard NRA 25 yard pistol targets, and if there was a hole outside the 8 ring, it was rare. The X ring in the middle of several were chewed out to one ragged hole.
"Wow, you do better with one hand than I do with two!"
"Well, I hope you don't let it give you an ego problem." she replied.
The talked guns for a bit, and then it was the moment of crisis. The soldier knew he couldn't let it just end like this.
"Say, do you want to get a coffee or something?" he asked her, pointing over at the snack truck standing by the office.
"I'd love a cold drink. It's getting pretty warm now, and a Coke would do nicely."
They walked over to the snack truck followed by the envious looks from the group of young men standing off to the side and got two ice cold bottles of Coke, and there was one chocolate iced doughnut left on the tray.
"I'll split it with you." The girl said. "I love chocolate!"
Taking their drinks and the doughnut over to a shaded picnic table, the soldier went to reach into his pocket for his knife, but the girl beat him to it. Her hand came out of her purse with a well used looking Imperial scout knife. Opening it deftly, she sliced the doughnut neatly in half, and then took a paper napkin and carefully cleaned the sugar icing off the gray patined blade. He watched her handle the knife with care, and was impressed that she actually seemed to care about the knife. He voiced his admiration.
"Actually, it's daddy's knife. He gave it to me recently to replace the little pen knife I had on my keychain." she told him, "He's carried this knife since he got it in the war, but I gave him a Swiss Army Knife for father's day, and he said he wanted me to have his scout knife. So I guess it means a lot to me that daddy gave me his knife that he carried so long. A knife is a handy thing to have in a purse, don't you think?"
She looked at him with a direct gaze, and as he looked into her brown eyes, and thought he wouldn't disagree with her for all the tea in China.
"Yes, a knife is a handy thing to have." he said. "I'm just a little surprised that you have one in your purse."
"Why, can't one of us girls like guns and knives?" she asked with a mischievous smile.
"By all means! I'm all for it."
They talked and for an hour after the Cokes and doughnut were gone found that they had a lot in common. She told him how her father had given her the .22 revolver for her high school graduation gift, and how they had shot a lot of .22's growing up in the rural Texas countryside. And of how she got interested in club competition, and her father let her borrow the High Standard target pistol that shared the case with the Smith and Wesson revolver. While they talked, he noticed how she absently handled the scout knife, sometimes shaving thin slivers off the weathered picnic table where a splinter stood up, or stroking the jigged bone scales.
"You know, you have to be the most interesting young lady I've ever met. I'd like to see more of you, I hope we can get together again. Maybe tonight we can go out, dinner and a movie or something." he told her.
"No, I'm pretty tied up tonight." she told him, and then seeing the disappointment on his face, "My troop is performing tonight."
"Performing?"he asked.
"We're doing Swan Lake at the Hemisphere, downtown."she told him, and then seeing the look on his face asked him, "let me guess, you've never been to a ballet performance?"
"Uh, well, no, not really."
She looked at him again with that mischievous smile for a moment, and then rooted around in the burlap hippy style bag that served as her purse. She took out a pad of paper and a pen and wrote a note, signing her name at the bottom.
"I'm going to leave a ticket at the box office tonight, you have to be there by 9 sharp. This note will get you backstage after, and we can go out after the performance for a bite to eat. I'll be starved by then, so be there." she told him. "Oh, and you'll have to dig up a coat and tie. Think you can do that?"
"I'll manage to find one, I wouldn't miss this for the world."
The girl got up to leave, and she closed the old scout knife carefully, following the blade down so it wouldn't snap.
They parted company, and the girl got into a white Datsun sedan, looked back and waved. The young soldier From Fort Sam Houston waved back as she pulled off.
"I guess I'd better go find a coat and tie" the soldier muttered to himself, "I think this can be something good."
Little did that young man know he was on the brink of a forty year relationship.
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) a little bit inspiring story. Thank you! 