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A Great looking Winchester Model 70 Supergrade in 300 Win Mag

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A S&W Model 29-2

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HI LUX MALCOLM 20X TARGET SCOPE AND WINCHESTER 52C: VINTAGE LEGENDS by Mr. RevolverGuy

HI LUX MALCOLM 20X VTS

Hi-Lux Optics is well know for their vintage scopes. They have also traversed into the modern scope market with their new line of hunting and tactical line of scopes. Though today I am so excited to be reviewing their Malcom20X Vintage Target Scope a reproduction after the Unertl. It is a 20-power fixed magnification scope, that mates perfectly on top of another legend my Winchester 52C.

 

BEAUTIFUL AND HIGHLY EFFECTIVE

Though a reproduction of a vintage scope, the Malcolm 20X Vintage Target Scope is made with modern materials, processes and techniques. The lenses are precision ground to micron tolerances with a thin crosswire reticle and is multicoated. To have a 41MM objective this scope is bright and much sharper than I had expected. It is capable of parallax focusing down to 10 yards up to infinity. It sports an adjustable eye piece for focus of the crosswire and has about 2.5inches eye relief.

In the box with all of the nice packaging you will receive everything you need including Sniper Competition Mounts and the tools to mount the scope, which took me about 5 minutes to do. The overall length of the scope is 25-3/4″ and it weighs in at 32oz. If you are looking for a vintage optic that will keep you in the X Ring look no further than Hi-Lux.

 

 

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Fieldcraft Soldiering War

What a L shape Ambush looks like

Soviet troops ambush a column of Gebirgsjägers (German Light Infantry) in the foothills of the Caucasus, 13 August 1942

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Tikka T3x CTR Range 2

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These Women Kicked Hitler’s A** – Soviet Women Snipers of WWII

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Ian McCollum: what started Forgotten Weapons?

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All About Guns Some Red Hot Gospel there!

ARMING TEENAGERS TO COMBAT VIOLENCE? By Will Dabbs MD

On my first night in Israel I wanted a Big Mac. It had been a long flight, and my brain was telling me it should have been daylight when it wasn’t. I struck out on foot into Tel Aviv in search of the Golden Arches.

It’s always a treat visiting a foreign country for the first time. Well, not really. Sometimes the people who live there are trying to kill you. It’s usually a treat visiting a foreign country for the first time.

I found Mickey D’s easily enough. There are more than 38,000 McDonald’s restaurants in more than 100 countries around the world. If you’re in a place where you can’t land a Quarter Pounder with cheese (or Royale with cheese, depending) within fifteen minutes of your hotel you likely don’t want to linger there. I fell in behind a young Israeli man and his gorgeous date.

They looked to be in their late teens and made a handsome couple. Most Israelis I encountered over there were fit and attractive. Lamentably, that’s not so often the case in my own country.

This young man was bedecked in well-worn Levis and a t-shirt just like millions of other teenagers on the planet. These two could have passed for their counterparts in any dive in America with one noticeable difference: draped nonchalantly over this guy’s right shoulder was an IWI Tavor X95 bullpup rifle.

This was the real freaking deal, and it was ready to rock. There was a loaded 30-round magazine secured in the magwell and a Meprolight optic. The bolt was closed over a red plastic chamber flag. Everything, to include the flag and the magazine, was secured to the weapon via dummy cords. I knew from experience that it would take about three seconds to make that thing hot. I also rather suspected this young dude had plenty of practice.

I wouldn’t trust most American teenagers who don’t share half my DNA unsupervised with string, much less a loaded rifle. Yet, here he was, strolling through Mickey D’s with a hot girl on one arm and a hot weapon on the other. I clearly wasn’t in Kansas anymore.

That extraordinary place breeds institutional violence. Terrorist attacks occur with dispiriting regularity. However, they seldom last very long. That’s because of this guy and others like him—of which I saw many during my stay.

The tension between people groups could be seen everywhere over there. Americans are pretty safe in that part of the world, because everybody wants our money. If tourists get hurt they’ll stay home. Then everybody loses. However, the antipathy between Jews and Palestinians is manifest in countless little ways. One of the most obvious is the omnipresent nature of guns.

My wife and I homeschooled our kids. It has been my experience that children will rise to whatever levels of behavior are demanded of them. Treat a child like a child, and he will behave like a child. Treat a child like an adult and ruthlessly enforce the standard, and he will behave like an adult. So it is in Israel.

With precious few exceptions, all 19-year-old Israelis serve in the military. In the US you can’t buy a handgun until you’re 21. By contrast, Israelis freely walk the streets toting automatic weapons two years before they could legally buy a beer on our soil.

Israel is a nation of 9.3 million people. Most every person in the country is issued a rifle at some point. In 2009 they had 135 murders. The homicide rate in Israel is 2.4 per 100,000 people.

By contrast, ours is a nation of 328 million people. In that same year we had 16,799 murders. The homicide rate over here is 7.8 per 100,000 people, more than three times that of Israel.

I would posit that this extraordinary difference turns upon how we raise our kids. Demand that young people behave like responsible adults, and they will behave like responsible adults. Allow them to behave like violent egomaniacs, and you get violent egomaniacs. As a society, we’d do well to get our heads around this very simple fact and act accordingly.

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“Aw shucks You have to be kidding, right!?!

LANDING WITHOUT POWER By Will Dabbs, MD

Becoming a father was the coolest thing I have ever done. Amidst a veritable sea of cool things, nothing else really comes close. When some deadbeat abandons his family, he’s the one who misses out the most. Never before have I worked so hard on something so satisfying.

The Army taught me how to fly, and I maintain a sexy cool little fighter plane today. My Vans RV-6A has enough space for two people and a little luggage. It cruises at 155 knots or around 178 miles per hour. I live in north central Mississippi. I can have breakfast at home and enjoy lunch in Chicago.

My wife doesn’t care for my adorable little plane. She christened the machine Tommyrot. I had to look that up. It is a British term meaning “foolish, silly, or ill-advised.”

The Setting

My plan was to fly up to Ohio where my son went to school, treat him and his girlfriend to lunch, and bring him back home for the Christmas holidays. The trip was about three hours each way. We could avoid the TSA and set our own schedule. The first crisis was the weather guessers.

The weather was crummy overnight but predicted to clear at 0800. Except that when I got to the airfield the weather still sucked. I stretched out on the couch in the hangar and took a nap.

By noon the weather was finally agreeable. No worries. I used to fly night vision goggles for Uncle Sam. I love flying at night. Now I’d fly up, we’d do dinner, and then we’d trek home enjoying the stars above the canopy. Life was good.

The Problem

The first leg was uneventful. It’s a simple plane without a lot of extraneous instrumentation. Everything operated as advertised. Dinner was sublime.

We took off headed south to a bit of a headwind. Maybe twenty minutes into the flight the radio and transponder spontaneously died. That was weird but not alarming. I turned them back on again. This happened maybe three times. Then the cockpit lights began to dim.

The circuit breakers were all good, and the engine instruments looked fine. However, the volt meter was a little low. The alternator was dead. I had likely been running off the battery all day, and it was only now letting me know.

Military pilots train incessantly to manage emergencies. You come to expect things to fail. However, it’s fundamentally different with your kid in the right seat.

An electrical failure in a small airplane really isn’t that big a deal. The engine doesn’t care. It has twin redundant engine-driven magnetos that will keep the prop turning no matter what. I navigated off of an iPad and could use my phone as a backup in a pinch. The problem was the radio.

We were in uncontrolled airspace. I didn’t need to talk to anybody. However, in the dark you must have an operational radio to turn on the runway lights on an unmanned airfield. That was actually a big deal. You can’t land a blacked-out plane in the dark if you cannot see the runway. I also had little interest in blasting into Memphis International in a doodlebug-sized airplane without radios. This would take a little pilotage.

Throughout it all, my son remained great company. We talked through the challenges as each arose. I shut everything down and made a beeline for Lexington, KY—the nearest airfield of any decent size. I keep a green lens flashlight in the plane, but naturally it was dead. I got lined up on final, fired up the radio, and clicked the mike seven times. To my relief, the runway lights burst to life.

I couldn’t see my flight instruments and had no landing light. Additionally, the flaps are electric so we landed really fast. In retrospect, we both honestly enjoyed the adventure. No lasting harm was done. Except that I had to call my wife and tell her we were in Kentucky and not Mississippi. I’m not sure she will ever forgive me for managing a total electrical failure in the dark with our son by my side.

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Irish History – The RIC Carbine