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HMS Barham – “Did More Than Just Explode, You Know.”

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Gunner Hulbert: ‘A Real Old Corps Marine’ A well-known Marine Corps historian tells the true story of a legend. By Lieutenant Colonel Merrill L. Bartlett, U.S. Marine Corps (Retired)

In his popular 1925 book, Fix Bayonets and Other Stories, John W. Thomason described a fictional character strikingly similar to a real Old Corps Marine. In “Special Cases,” Thomason provides a snapshot of a group of officers on the eve of the assault on Blanc Mont in October 1918, characterizing “Edward Hawkes” as far more educated and polished than most of his contemporaries. A veteran of service in the ranks, Hawkes is rumored to have served in Great Britain’s Brigade of Guards; perhaps he even held the Queen’s Commission. Some believed dark secrets shrouded the past of this fine old Leatherneck.

Thomason notes that he drinks only the best wines from his personal crystal goblet; to Hawkes’ dismay, his fellow officers drink vin ordinaire from metal canteen cups. He has earned a reputation as a popular and kindly mentor to the young officers who flocked to the colors when America declared war on Germany.

During the course of the gathering, Hawkes discloses misgivings about his chances for survival when the 5th Marines assault the chalky massif the following morning. He digs a bandana out of his musette bag and unwraps it to reveal three decorations: Medal of Honor, Distinguished Service Cross, and Croix de Guerre. He then wraps them for mailing. To the surprise of his drinking companions, Hawkes asks that the parcel be sent to his wife should he fail to survive the next day’s assault.

Hawkes Is Hulbert

Any officer of the World War I era would immediately recognize the fictional Hawkes as the legendary Gunner Hulbert. Even though the young officers of the 4th Brigade (Marine), American Expeditionary Forces (AEF) knew him best as an officer, most Old Corps Marines (pre-1917) likely remembered Hulbert as one of the few sergeants major on the muster rolls.

Henry Lewis Hulbert looked every bit the fighting man. He stood well over six feet tall and, after almost two decades as a soldier of the sea, weighed scarcely more than when he enlisted. At age 51 on the eve of the Blanc Mont attack, he had a face darkened by years of tropical suns and fierce winds from duty at sea. His white mustache and eyebrows seemed to have been pasted on the bronzed face. While his fellow officers appeared wont to let their personal appearance slip while in the field, Hulbert kept his leather shined and brass polished.

Over his multi-faceted career, Hulbert held every enlisted rank from private to sergeant major, with a Good Conduct Medal and a promotion earned during each enlistment. He advanced rapidly from gunner to second lieutenant to first lieutenant, and his prowess on the battlefields of France resulted in a recommendation for promotion to captain. Not unlike many Old Corps Marines, Hulbert had found a new home and a new life as a Leatherneck following disastrous and disappointing missteps as a young man.

Many enlistees who answered the call to the colors after the Civil War were recent immigrants with a limited education; some could speak little or no English. But unlike most of them, Hulbert was British and better educated than even the majority of officers. Born on 12 February 1867 in Kingston-Upon-Hull to a wealthy Yorkshire family, he matriculated from the posh Felsted School in 1884. He entered the British colonial service with an assignment in Malaya as a clerk and storekeeper in the state of Perak.

Early Troubles

His superior performance soon garnered the attention of Robert Douglas Hewett, the state auditor for Perak; as a bonus, Hulbert also caught the eye of Hewett’s sister. Marriage, fatherhood, and promotions followed in rapid succession. Sadly, however, he allowed his good sense to slip below his beltline.

Hulbert began a romantic attachment with his wife’s younger sister, and the two were caught in flagrante delicto. His life crumbled with lightning speed: dismissal from the colonial service, a discrete divorce, and the auction of his property. Banished from Malaya, he booked passage to Skagway on the Alaska Territory panhandle to seek his fortune in the Klondike gold fields, but failed to find it. Just before the Spanish-American War, Hulbert turned up in San Francisco. Down at the heels, perhaps worrying about the source of his next meal and bed, he enlisted for five years on 28 March 1898.

Recruit training for the 31-year-old private followed at nearby Mare Island, then orders to the Marine guard in the USS Philadelphia. The protected cruiser steamed to Hawaii to show the flag at ceremonies for the annexation of the islands to the United States.

Then, in March 1899, she deployed south in a hurried response to the growing confrontation in Samoa. In the harbor of Apia, the Philadelphia joined three British warships and a lone German corvette. During the previous two decades, Great Britain, Germany, and the United States had come to loggerheads over the sovereignty of the these remote islands. The Berlin Treaty granted the right to supervise the government of Samoa to all three foreign powers.

Heroics in Samoa

The senior British captain and the admiral commanding the American Pacific Squadron met on 6 March; they agreed to demand that the warring Samoan factions abide by the Berlin Treaty and to use force, if necessary, to enforce their ultimatum. Long considered a catalyst for the Samoans’ disruptive political behavior, the Germans were left out of any discussions.

On 13 March, a landing party of 50 American Leathernecks and Bluejackets deployed ashore and bivouacked in the jungle for the night. But no one slept; loud war chants and drums sounded until dawn. A British force established a fortified position between the beach and Apia, while the Americans continued to hike inland to protect the U.S. consulate. A day later, Bluejacket reinforcements arrived from the Philadelphia. The combined force took up positions around the consulate.

By then, the American consul had decided to evacuate with his family. Part of the landing force retired with them, plus several anxious American and British citizens, to the Philadelphia. The remainder of the landing force, consisting of a Bluejacket contingent and First Lieutenant Constantine M. Perkins’ Marines, remained as a rear guard.

On 15 March, the British and American ships shelled the jungle behind Apia, believing it to conceal most of the Samoan insurgents. In response, Samoan dissidents struck the British outpost, killing three sailors. Beginning the next night, disgruntled Samoans probed the defenses around the consulate for more than a week; Perkins sent volunteers out to ambush any Samoan snipers foolish enough to approach the consulate.

On 1 April, the entire American landing party deployed to capture or kill the hostile natives and bring the confrontation to an end. Three American Navy officers and Perkins led a force of 20 Marines and 36 Bluejackets east to Faglii, then onto a German plantation. A large force of fierce Samoan warriors attacked, brandishing huge war clubs and long knives as they charged the defenders. A bullet killed one of the American Navy officers instantly, while the other two appeared to suffer serious wounds.

Hulbert hacked his way to the wounded officers to determine if either was still alive, but both were dead. Perkins took charge of the landing force and led the evacuation to the beach with the survivors. Private Hulbert, along with Sergeants Michael J. McNally and Bruno A. Forsterer, volunteered to man a rearguard position with the landing force’s lone machine gun.

When the gun jammed, the men used their rifles and bayonets to keep the Samoans at bay. With each of them suffering wounds by then, Hulbert held off the Samoans while Forsterer and McNally joined the remainder of the force behind a hastily constructed defensive position at the water’s edge.

Medal of Honor

During the mêlée two American Navy officers had died, and the Samoans beheaded their corpses. The Samoans cut the ears off the seven dead Sailors and the lone Marine casualty. Hulbert, along with Forsterer and McNally, earned the Medal of Honor for their heroism that day.

The Philadelphia joined the three British ships in shelling the island and then left the area on 21 May. Hulbert received orders terminating his tour at sea near the end of February 1902. He had earned the stripes of both corporal and sergeant during his first enlistment, a feat remarkable in an era of stingy promotions.

Major General Commandant Charles Heywood ordered Hulbert to the barracks at Mare Island but soon detached him to join the Marine guard in the USS Concord. The patrol boat steamed south that fall in response to political unrest in Colombia’s troublesome province of Panama.

Although only a sergeant at the time, Hulbert served as the small detachment’s first sergeant. The Marines deployed ashore at Panama City and departed only when the disputing parties agreed to respect American lives and property. In September, Hulbert reported back to Mare Island, where he served as a drill instructor at the basic training facility. He returned to sea again in the protected cruiser USS Boston, however, when the Panamanian rebels declared their independence from Colombia late in the fall of 1902.

On 28 February 1903, Hulbert took up new duties as the Mare Island brig warden coincident with his re-enlistment a month later. That fall, he reported to the Marine guard in the USS Wisconsin. By then he had earned the stripes of a first sergeant. During the more than two years he served in the battleship, the Wisconsin steamed with the Asiatic Fleet and carried the fleet commander’s flag.

At the conclusion of Hulbert’s perfunctory tour of duty at sea, Major General Commandant George F. Elliott ordered him to the barracks at Annapolis, Maryland, and the School of Application as acting sergeant major; his permanent promotion to that rank followed on 19 May 1908.

In 1910, Hulbert received orders to the Marine Corps’ largest barracks, at the Philadelphia Navy Yard. While there, he married the daughter of Lithuanian immigrants, Victoria Cecelia Akelitys, with whom he had a daughter. During that tour, Hulbert enjoyed the confidence and admiration of the barracks commander, Colonel George Barnett, and deployed with him to Cuba in 1911 as the sergeant major of the 1st Provisional Marine Brigade. Hulbert re-enlisted for another four years after returning to Philadelphia. He deployed again to Cuba with a brigade in 1912.

In an unusual gesture, Hulbert requested a reduction in rank to gunnery sergeant to qualify as an English instructor for foreign-born recruits at the barracks in Washington for a year. But on 1 May 1914, he reported for duty on the personal staff of Major General Commandant George Barnett; restoration of his old sergeant major rank followed quickly, and Hulbert re-enlisted for another four years. Two years later, Congress passed the Naval Act of 1916, authorizing appointments to the rank of warrant officer.

Hulbert the Gunner

Brigadier General John A. Lejeune, assistant to the major general commandant and chairman of the warrant officer selection board, recommended the elderly non-commissioned officer with enthusiasm. Hulbert passed a written test with perfect marks in every area. On 29 January 1917, he received his discharge in anticipation of an appointment as the Marine Corps’ first gunner (warrant officers to serve in one of the combat arms). For some unexplained reason, his appointment was dated 24 March 1917, while all of the other appointments to gunner or to warrant officer for quartermaster and adjutant duties did not take effect until 19 October the same year.

With the U.S. declaration of war against Germany, Hulbert began to badger the major general commandant for an assignment to a unit deploying to France. At first, Barnett rebuffed the request because he had already passed age 50. But the major general commandant’s Naval Academy classmate, Colonel Charles A. Doyen, had reached age 58, and Barnett selected him, despite a history of alcohol abuse, to command the first regiment of Marines to deploy to France.

Hulbert continued to press his case, and Barnett finally relented. The old war horse received orders to the 66th Company, 1st Battalion, 5th Marines, just before the regiment organized at the Philadelphia Navy Yard for embarkation. On 14 June 1917, the regiment sailed for Europe.

By mid-summer of 1917, the 5th Marines were under canvas in France. Using his engineering skills, Hulbert supervised construction of billets and a rifle range for his battalion. Later in 1917, when the 6th Marines and the 6th Machinegun Battalion arrived, all of the Marines became part of the 4th Brigade, 2nd Division, AEF.

Doyen pleaded with General John J. Pershing, commander-in-chief of the AEF, for a name that reflected the brigade’s lineage; thus, the 4th Brigade (Marine), AEF became its official nom de guerre. Its baptism of fire came with the third of the German spring offensives in 1918. All too quickly the Germans advanced through the ranks of the French pouilu, mostly hors de combat by 1918.

By the end of May, enemy infantry had crossed the Marne and stood poised to capture Paris. Pershing loaned three American divisions to the French to help stem the onslaught, and they deployed to Chateau Thierry. In an obscure piece of tended forest, the Marine brigade halted the enemy drive in its sector and then moved into Belleau Wood to eject the Germans.

Hulbert earned a Distinguished Service Cross during the intense combat that followed. On 6 June, he suffered two wounds and was subsequently gassed. Evacuated from the battlefield, he returned from a field hospital to his company ten days later. Over half of the brigade incurred wounds or made the ultimate sacrifice by the time the most costly engagement in the Marine Corps’ colorful history ended on 26 June 1918.

A Swim across the Marne

Legend purports that Hulbert learned too late of his required attendance at an awards ceremony at division headquarters, at which no less a luminary than General Pershing would preside. Failing to secure motorized transport, Hulbert borrowed a horse and took off at a gallop. As he gazed across the Marne, he could see elements of the division already drawn up for the ceremony. The closest bridge was too far away, so, the legend goes, he simply dismounted and swam across the river. Supposedly, as he fell into the ranks of heroes, he saluted Pershing and said: “Sir, the order [for the parade] is at 2:30; it is 2:29 and a half.” Pershing pinned a Distinguished Service Cross on the soaking-wet Hulbert’s chest.

Despite the licking endured during the offensives launched in the spring of 1918, the German high command struck again in Champagne. After the Huns again failed in achieving their objective, the Allies deployed to assist the French in cutting the enemy supply line leading from Soissons to Chateau Thierry.

The 4th Brigade (Marine), AEF moved into position just south of Soissons on 18 July. Over the next two days, it suffered almost 2,000 casualties; included in that melancholy number of wounded was Hulbert. He had advanced from gunner to second lieutenant. By late August and the deployment to reduce the St. Mihiel salient, he wore the silver bars of a first lieutenant.

The U.S. First Army, 19 American and 4 French divisions, assembled to reduce the salient that had been held by the Germans since 1914. An intense bombardment began before dawn on 12 September 1918; at first light, the forces of the AEF maneuvered to eliminate the pesky salient. By nightfall on the 13th, the offensive had ended. Because the Germans had already begun evacuation, the attacking force suffered few casualties while capturing a great deal of material and large numbers of prisoners. Nonetheless, commanders reported a total of 132 dead and 574 wounded Marines.

Showdown at Blanc Mont

As the Allies wheeled and maneuvered in preparation for the Meuse-Argonne Offensive to strike the death knell for the German forces, Pershing loaned two American divisions to the French; by then, an advance by the XX Corps had ground to a halt at the Massif du Blanc Mont, a formidable hill mass bristling with enemy machine gun emplacements. Three French divisions had failed to surge over the crest of Blanc Mont.

By then, Lejeune had succeeded to command of the 2nd Division, AEF with his promotion to major general. He promised the commander of the 4th French Army that the 2nd Division, AEF, could seize Blanc Mont; as Lejeune and his staff revealed the attack plans to seize the contested terrain, Hulbert should have had every reason to feel uneasy about his chances for survival. The division staff had devised a daring but complicated plan of attack that proved costly. The 4th brigade would strike up the left side of the masiff, while the 3rd brigade attacked simultaneously in an oblique thrust from the right side.

The Leathernecks of the 4th Brigade and the Doughboys of the 3rd Brigade began the assault on 3 October behind a rolling barrage of artillery that began at dawn. Both brigades bypassed the Bois de la Vipère, a heavily fortified triangular-shaped German strongpoint situated between them.

The next day, as the Marines on the left flank continued to fight their way up the masiff, the French division assigned to advance with it on the left failed to keep pace. Worse, the Poilu advanced and retreated repeatedly, resulting in a see-saw effect on the battlefield. Murderous German machine gun fire tore into the exposed ranks of the 5th Marines, inflicting heavy casualties.

In his fictional account of the battle, Thomason recounts walking with Hawkes (Hulbert) that morning toward their respective company jumping-off points and then being taken under fire by a German machine gun.

Both hugged the ground, but the nickel-plated slugs found Hulbert and sucked the life out of him. Thomason recalled that the gallant old warrior died with his eyes closed and a pleasant expression on his face. Hulbert earned a posthumous Navy Cross at Blanc Mont to add to his Medal of Honor (Samoa), Distinguished Service Cross (Belleau Wood), and four awards of the Croix de Guerre (Chateau Thierry, Soissons, St. Mihiel, Blanc Mont).

Initially interred in the American cemetery at Argonne, Hulbert’s remains were re-interred at Arlington National Cemetery. The Department of the Navy christened the destroyer USS Hulbert (DD-342) in his honor in 1920. The ship’s bell and Hulbert’s personal decorations are displayed today on the quarterdeck of Mitchell Hall at the Marine Corps Infantry Officers’ School, Quantico, Virginia.

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Colt Government Model vs Broken Guita

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FOR THE LOVE OF MULES WRITTEN BY JEFF “TANK” HOOVER

 

It was only a few years ago I learned about Merrill’s Marauder’s and mules, the famous unit who traversed Burma during WWII. Afterward, I wrote an article about them which led me to meeting a Kentucky gentleman by the name of Ted. His daddy had mules, and naturally, he did too. It was the beginning of a great friendship. The more I read and heard about mules, the more fascinated I became.

Ted told me stories of being lost in the fog in the national forest and letting the ol’ mule blindly lead him out. Sure, they can be stubborn, after all it’s where the saying came from, but most times it’s because they know they’re right and we may be a touched confused.

Nothing is more “sure footed” than a mule either. They have tremendous stamina, combined with a great work ethic. No wonder they’re used for carrying supplies through impenetrable mountains and other rough terrain. I’m going to share a story I recently read to keep it alive, as in my mind, it’s worthy of repeating.

 

Legend of the White Mule

 

In 1880, the Bodie mines were producing tons of ore, rich in gold and silver. Shaft depths reached between 400 to 600 feet deep, with two shafts reaching the 1,200-foot mark — the Standard and the Lent.

In total, the Bodie Mining District, located in in eastern Mono County, Calif., consisted of 32 mines, with 60 miles of tunnel work and over 2,000 men working the hard rock. The mule’s value was priceless in the mines with their impressive strength making it possible to pull heavy ore carts from the bowels of the mountain.

 

Cave Dwellers

 

Living in underground stalls, handlers fulfilled the mules needs by delivering and feeding prime hay to them. It was common to purchase young mules to be lowered into the narrow shafts where they were trained to pull ore carts. The mules quickly learned the routine, working diligently, without complaint.

Sadly, most mules never saw the light of day again, for as they grew, they were too large to fit into the hoisting cages. The miners respected their loyalty, and intelligence while caring for them, naturally becoming attached to them. They’d name the mules after friends, relatives or politicians. Due to the mules’ horrible fate, superstitious stories became popular, stating the mules’ spirits roamed the mines.

The Standard Mine was the most productive. When it reached the 500-foot depth, a mule was summoned to transport the ore cars. Two company men were sent to a stock ranch near Mono Lake to look for a potential contender. Paying the full price of $8.00, they picked a snow-white mule with sky blue eyes and straight teeth. On the road back to Bodie, they named him Jerry.

Like most mules, Jerry learned his job quickly. Carrots were his favorite reward. Jerry snored while waiting for his ore cart to be loaded and got hiccups when he drank water too fast. As time went on, his size tripled, as did his strength. This saddened the miners, as they knew the reality that Jerry would never leave the mine.

They built a comfortable stall where he enjoyed his off time. When it was decided Jerry was needed at the 600-foot level, an incline connection was built so Jerry could be used at both levels. They named the incline, “Mule Canyon.”

 

Fateful Fire

 

It was toward the end of the day shift, when a carbide lamp was knocked over, igniting a dry wood beam on the 600-foot level. The fire pushed up heavy smoke, squeezing out fresh air through the narrow tunnels. The screams could be heard from below and the men at the 400-foot level gave the signal that there was fire in the mine. Jerry was released from the ore car to fend for himself. Like ants, the men toppled over one another to reach the hoist that would bring them to the surface. On that dreadful day, no man perished.

When the danger was over, the company sent a volunteer crew below to assess the damage. Many of the volunteers were miners that worked with Jerry. The mood was solemn as they probed thru the burnt timbers. Although the damage was not as bad as they anticipated, they held little hope that Jerry could have survived. They found him lying in his stall. The heavy smoke had been too much, Jerry did not survive. Special permission was granted for Jerry to be buried in a marked grave at the bottom of Mule Canyon.

A few months later, an unknown miner who was working at the 575-foot level, claimed to have seen the ghost of a white mule. The ghost was blocking his way into the new tunnel. The man escaped without injury but was emotionally shook up. The men who knew Jerry began to wonder if there was any truth to the miner’s story. They didn’t have much time to question him because the next day he was killed when he fell to his death down an unmarked hole inside the new tunnel. News spread quickly that the ghost of the white mule tried to warn the miner of the danger that lay in the dark.

From that day on, the legend of the white mule lingered in and out of the mines of Bodie. It was believed that Jerry was watching out for the men who worked underground. Miners were a superstitious bunch, and if anyone reported seeing a white mule, they listened closely to the details. Most men quit right then and there, not wanting to risk their lives any further.

 

Epilogue

 

I’ve never owned a mule, but I think about them often. The men I know who have owned them said there’s nothing like them. Sure footed, stubborn, faithful and loyal are words used to describe them. All in all, that isn’t such a bad way to be remembered. Mules were an important part of our heritage and history, especially for venturing out west. Do yourself a favor and investigate the contributions these animals have made to the development of our country. You’d be surprised!

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THE DAY I MET SKEETER… AND WAS AFRAID TO GO BACK WRITTEN BY WILLIAM BELL

Besides double action S&W revolvers, Skeeter was also an aficionado
of Ruger single actions; here he’s loading a favorite in .44 Special.

The writing of such authors as Skeeter Skelton and other lawmen/scribes like Bill Jordan and Charles Askins influenced me to enter the field of law enforcement. After receiving a B.S. degree in Criminal Justice in 1976, I started out as a police officer, then deputy sheriff, and in the spring of 1982, I received my appointment as a Patrol Agent in the U.S. Border Patrol, El Paso Sector.

Bill met Skeeter Skelton while a rookie Border Patrol Agent in Deming, N.M.

Home On The Range

During in-processing at ELP, the five other newbies who were hired with me found out El Paso might not be our new homes. I ended up stationed in Deming, N.M., but didn’t get to actually go there until after I’d graduated from the Border Patrol Academy.

At that time the academy was at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center (FLETC) in Glynco, Ga. I spent the summer there learning immigration law, Spanish, federal law enforcement procedures, self-defense and physical training. Not only was South Georgia hot and humid, but there were delightful creatures like sand fleas, huge mosquitoes and horseflies to increase your misery at the obstacle course and on 5-mile runs. Somehow, I made it through the 17 weeks and got my gold Patrol Agent shield and .357 Magnum revolver.

My wife and son — still in diapers — had preceded me to Deming and rented us a nice house near the city library. She picked me up at the El Paso airport and we drove to Deming, where I beheld what I thought at the time was “Mayberry in New Mexico.” The Border Patrol Station was on the east end of town near the K-Mart and the city cemetery.

It was a cinder block building with a big garage out back, both painted in a lovely government “sea foam green” as were our patrol vehicles. Deming was a line-watch station, so mostly we drove south each day to the Columbus Port of Entry area and scanned the border line for illegal entrants. We also maintained drag roads paralleling the border at regular intervals that allowed us to locate and track the footprints of unlawful border crossers. We covered a huge area with just 20 agents.

For me and another rookie, we also spent one day a week in post-academy training, polishing our knowledge of immigration law and Spanish. Back then, after 6 ½ months, probationary agents had to pass a test given at ELP Sector; then if successful, another such test at the 10-month period. This helped to weed out individuals who made it through the academy, but were found wanting out in the field.

Charles A. “Skeeter” Skelton was a retired lawman and gun writer emeritus (bottom), who the author was privileged to visit. He’s seen here with his favorite Model 27 sixgun.

How I Met Skeeter

Shortly after my arrival in Deming, I was teamed with a big blond agent named Jim who was tasked with introducing me to our patrol area, including all of Luna County and parts of Hidalgo and Grant counties. One day we were heading east of a stretch of pavement called Rock Hound Road that led to a state park of the same name at the base of the Florida Mountains.

As we whizzed by a yellow brick house out in the boonies, I noted way out in the backyard was a backstop made from old railroad ties. I’m thinking, “must be a shooter who lives there,” when Jim exclaimed, “You know who lives there doncha?”

Me being me replied, “Ya Jim, I’ve lived in Luna County all of two weeks, I know everybody!” He then stated kinda nonchalantly, “Oh, that’s Skeeter Skelton’s house.” I was thunderstruck, my gun writer idol’s house! I’m sure my mouth hung open in disbelief. I then quipped, “I thought he said in his articles that he lives in Horse Thief, New Mexico?”

“That’s horse-pucky,” snorted Jim, “He lives right there!” This information, along with notations of surrounding landmarks, were immediately entered into my memory banks.

These three books (above) are chock-full of Skeeter stories and all true Skeeter fans deserve to have a copy. They too are now hard to find and expensive. Here is Bill’s “Skeeter” S&W 357 Magnum revolver (below), complete with a 5″ barrel and Bear Hug Grips by Deacon Deason.

The Call

The next night, back home in Deming, I gingerly lifted the receiver from the wall-phone in the kitchen and with shaky hands dialed the number on the slip of paper. On the third ring Skeeter picked up on the other end. In a voice that I hoped wasn’t trembling, I introduced myself and explained to him our “wife connection” and the reason for my call. Skeeter exclaimed, “Congratulations on passing your 10, sure, come on out if you can this Saturday and we’ll chew the fat.”

On the appointed day, I put on my ball cap, western shirt, Wranglers and boots then splashed on a little Old Spice. Shooting Times had published a special magazine chock-full of some of Skeeter’s best articles entitled “Skeeter Skelton on Handguns.” I rolled it up and put it in the back pocket of my jeans so Skeeter could inscribe it for me.

Remembering the route, I drove out to his house, parked in front, got out and knocked on the door, all without falling down. Skeeter opened the door and invited me inside with a big smile and a handshake.

We sat in the living room and chatted for about four hours and every so often, he’d excuse himself, go into another room and come back with a special handgun to show me. I was in Nirvana! We sipped a certain spirit-lifting brown liquid and I’ll have to admit, at my present age, even the happenings in an event so monumental have faded a bit from memory. I do recall another knock at the door and the arrival of some other guests. This was a bit distracting and not wanting to wear out my welcome, I politely thanked Skeeter for the audience and made my way back out to the car.

Here is Bill’s “Skeeter” S&W 357 Magnum revolver, complete with
a 5″ barrel and Bear Hug Grips by Deacon Deason.

Oh, Good Grief!

As soon as my posterior settled onto the bench seat of my little Ford Fairmont, I felt something push into the seat back. In an instant it dawned on me what I’d forgotten: an autograph! The rolled-up magazine had gone unnoticed in the living room as I was so “ga-ga” sitting on the couch talking to a legend. Now, the realization I’d forgotten all about it hit me like a sucker-punch to the gut.

I was sick and angry at myself, but I was also too embarrassed to go back, knock on the door and look like dumb-bunny. I started the engine, shifted to drive and headed back to “Mi Casa” in Deming. This was the first — and last — time I ever saw Skeeter Skelton …

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Battle of Quebec 1759

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Some uber cool / neat stuff for a change

This is truly wondrous. The basic element of all life finally captured in way that’s identifiable! This remarkable photo of a SINGLE ATOM (trapped by electric fields) has just been awarded the top prize in a well-known science photography competition. The photo is titled “Single Atom in an Ion Trap” and was shot by David Nadlinger at the University of Oxford in England. (For the record it’s a single positively-charged strontium atom)

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The westernmost point of the Chinese Empire is closer to Germany than it is to the easternmost point of China

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From: Monster Hunter Nation – HK. BECAUSE YOU SUCK. AND WE HATE YOU. by CORREIA45

An open letter to the gun community from HK’s marketing department: In a world of compromises, some people put the bullets in the magazine backwards…But it doesn’t matter, because our gun is on the cover of the Rainbow Six video games. Look how cool that SEAL coming out of the water looks… If you buy a $2,000 SOCOM, you will be that cool of an operator too. And chicks will dig you.

At HK, we stuck a piston on an AR15, just like a bunch of other companies have done, dating back to about 1969. However ours is better, because we refuse to sell it to civilians. Because you suck, and we hate you.

Our XM8 is the greatest rifle ever developed. It may melt, and it doesn’t fit any accessories known to man, but that is your fault. If you were a real operator, you would love it. Once again, look at Rainbow Six, that G36 sure is cool isn’t it? Yeah, you know you want one.

And by the way, check out our new HK45. We decided that humans don’t need to release the magazine with their thumbs. If you were a really manly teutonic operator, you would be able to reach the controls. Plus we’ve fired 100,000,000 rounds through one with zero malfunctions, and that was while it was buried in a lake of molten lava, on the moon. If you don’t believe us, it is because you aren’t a real operator.

By the way, our cheap, mass-produced, stamped sheet metal guns like the G3 and MP5 are the bestest things ever, and totally worth asinine scalpers prices, but note that cheap, mass-produced, stamped sheet metal guns from other countries are commie garbage. Not that it matters, because you’re civilians, so we won’t sell them to you anyway. Because you suck, and we hate you, but we know you’ll be back. We can beat you down like a trailer park wife, but you’ll come back, you always do.

Buy our stuff.

Sincerely

HK Marketing DepartmentHK.  Because you suck.  And we hate you. 

I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m not the biggest fan of H und K.  I posted that letter on THR a long time ago as a joke, but it sure did manage to tick a lot of people off.  Ironically, the tag line, HK.  Because you suck.  And we hate you, has been popping up in various places ever since. 

Sure, they’re decently reliable, decently accurate guns, but they’re massively overpriced and overrated by legions of fan boys.  One of the most frustrating things about dealing with gun people on the interweb is that folks tend to pick a brand, and then base some of their self-esteem on that brand.  

Kind of like rabid sports fans who feel the need to burn cars if their team wins, or loses, or they just felt like burning stuff.   Say something negative about that team to one of those rabid fans, and you’re probably going to get beat up.  Likewise, if you say anything negative about the Teutonic superiority of HK, people get mad at you. 

Well, I love hate mail, so here goes. 

For each of their wunder guns, you can get something else that costs a lot less, and works better, and has ergonomics designed by people that actually shoot.   HK came about when some Nazis fled to Spain and built the Cetme.  

But Cetme doesn’t sound very tough, does it?  So they went back to Germany and became H and K, and if you call it H and K, fan boys will get mad, and insist that it is HK, because manly Teutonic operators and Navy SEALs don’t have time to say the word And.  So HK rose to prominence by building the G3, which is what the Germans call the Cetme.

Now the G3 is a decent rifle.  It is a cheap, stamped sheet metal, battle rifle.  It has terrible ergonomics, with a hard to use safety, (and this is coming from a guy with gorilla hands), and difficult to use charging handle.  It is reliable, because of the roller locking bolt that destroys your brass, and recoils worse than other competing .308 rifles.  The FAL smokes the G3, and the only reason the G3 exists is because the Germans were too proud to pay royalties to those uppity Belgians. 

The G3 can be really accurate, if you weld a bunch of metal to the sides of it, stick on a nice barrel, and jack the price up $10,000.  And no, that’s not a typo.  The PSG1 is absurdly priced, and the cheaper version, the MSG90 is proof that if make anything absurdly heavy enough, it can be accurate. 

There is a collapsible stock available, which is awesome, if you like getting hit in the face with a piece of rebar, which is what their $400 stock feels like when you shoot it.  Germans must be tougher than we are or something.

Other stamped, sheet metal guns exist, but HK fan boys mock those as commie garbage.  See, if you build a cheap gun, but it is from Germany, then it is superior, but if you build a stamped gun in the eastern block (a hundred miles from Germany) then it is commie garbage. 

But what brought HK to international fame and the cover of Dick Marcinko books (for example, Rogue Force Delta Green Team 7 Ninja Force Alpha II:  The beginning)  was the G3s little brother, the MP5.  Take a G3, shrink it, and chamber it in 9mm.  At the time, CQB doctrine was to use 9mm subguns.  Now the MP5 is a neat little gun.  I have two.  They work well, and if compared to the other subguns of the day, like the Uzi or the Mac, then the MP5 was a lot easier to use, easier to hit with, and was decently reliable. 

The MP5 became famous when the SAS used them to kick the living hell out of some bad guys at the Iranian embassy.  This was marketing gold, and HK rode the wave.  Pretty soon everybody wanted an MP5.  It was what all the cool kids were using.  Soon every video game and action movie was filled with HK stuff.  HK may have overrated guns, but they’ve got the best marketing department in the gun business, and they milked that fee cow until it was dry. 

But the MP5 isn’t as great as people make them out to be.  They still malfunction.  (if you’re favorite gun hasn’t malfed, you haven’t shot it enough).  The mags are hard to insert on a closed bolt.  Safety still sucks.  Most versions don’t have a bolt hold open.  Honestly, if I had to get into a gunfight with a subgun, then I would rather have my PPsH. 

HK long guns were mostly unobtainable to US civilians, primarily because HK hates the civilian market.  If you don’t believe me, go talk to them at SHOT show, and watch them sneer at regular people.  They can’t help themselves.   But like all unobtainable things, like Ferraris, and super models, regular folks start to imagine these unobtainable things as perfection, when really they’re just an expensive car that spends most of its time in the shop, or a chick with mental problems and Bulimia.  That’s what happened with HK.  Their products took on this aura of coolness amongst the fans, that just isn’t real. 

For example, go to any thread on the internet where somebody brings up “What is the Best Rifle EVAR!”  and there is a poll.  On the poll will be some HK long guns that 99.85% of the gun owning public has never seen, let alone shot, but those guns will have the most votes, because the HK marketing department told you how awesome they are. 

Read up about the XM8 on most gun boards.  According to the interweb, the XM8 is the finest combat implement of all time.  In actuality it is a plastic AR18, that tends to melt, break, and is universally loathed by the Army staff that had to test it.  It takes bizarre attachments, so no US accessories will work.  They took the G36, which is basically a blah rifle, used by a handful of countries that don’t ever actually shoot people, and uglied it up so that it looks like the demented lovechild of Bloaty the Pizza Hog and a Super-Soaker.

Or the HK416. According to the internet, the HK416 is the best gun EVER!  It is called THE AWESOME.  Lightning bolts of coolness fly from the gun and smite your enemies with Teutonic fury!  However you can’t have one, because you’re a civilian, ergo, you suck.  And HK hates you.

The 416 is basically an AR with a gas piston, which has been done by like ten companies now, but somehow the HK is better, because it was on Future Weapons, and HK won’t sell it to civilians.  In fact, a couple of 416s slipped out into civilian hands, and HK freaked out about it.  There is no legal reason that 416 uppers can’t be sold, but HK despises regular people, and the idea of you having their long guns offends them.

You can get civilian HK long guns, once in a while, when HK feels like it, but they’re usually hyper-neutered and over priced.  Hell, the last ones were actually grey, because you know, black is too dangerous, or something.

HK’s new subgun is the UMP.  They tend to break.  One of our local PDs traded all of theirs in after they broke all the stocks.  Cool idea, because everybody loves .45, but bad execution.

HK’s flagship pistols, the USP line, are decent polymer handguns.  They are extremely reliable, that is the plus side.  On the down side, their triggers universally suck, but they don’t have to.  HK likes to use a square peg in a round hole, (literally) that makes the trigger pull a lot heavier and grittier than it needs to be.  Why?  Beats the heck out of me.  The USP series should be reliable, they’re enormous. 

The most annoying thing about the HK pistols is how they cost almost twice as much as every other polymer handgun on the market.  Somehow being made in Germany means the USP series is worth $800-$1000, when all of the polymer guns made within a thousand miles are $400-$600.  Only most of those guns tend to have better triggers, are just as reliable, and are usually more accurate.

Then there is the Mk23.  Which is huge, accurate, reliable, (which it damn well better be, since it is the size and weight of a Mini-14) costs as much as a used car, huge, and is universally despised by the SF that it is issued to.  Talk to anyone that is in an SF unit.  The Mk23s they’ve been issued sit unused in arms room.  Did I mention that it is HUGE?  But that’s okay, because the HK fan boys will explain that it is an OFFENSIVE handgun.   (scratches head) whatever the hell that is supposed to mean.  

They are reliable, but so is a $125 Makarov.  Only the Mak has a better trigger.

I have two guys that I work with that have been to the HK armorer’s school.  If you think I’m biased, you should talk to them.  They especially love working with the Germans.  One fellow was yelled at because he had two magazines clamped together on his MP5, because “NEIN!  That is not the H und K way!”  Even though he had bought the mag clamp from HK.  When you ask why the original MP5 doesn’t have a last shot bolt hold open, they’ll yell at you and say, “NEIN! Why would you want your enemy to know your gun is empty!”  Hell, Hans, I just want to know when my gun is empty!

One friend of mine took his personal MP5, and cut an extra notch into the collapsible stock, so it would be shorter for when he was wearing his armor, and also it removed the nasty wobble that all HK collapsible stocks have.  It is an easy fix, and a no-brainer that the HK should have been doing for years.  Fritz at the armorer’s school damn near had an aneurism when he saw this blasphemy against his ineffectual German gods.  

Look, gun owning public, just because you saw it on Future Weapons, or read about it on the internet, doesn’t make it true.  For the love of John Moses Browning, before you formulate super strong opinions about a weapon, you should have at least shot the damn thing first.

 Do I have anything positive to say about HK?  Yes, the sneer of disdain they give you at SHOT is priceless and entertaining.

Edit: My book, Monster Hunter International, is available now on Amazon. http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0741444569/ref=s9_asin_title_wishf_r4-f9_p_c_f_p-2785_g1?ie=UTF8&coliid=I1EXBBDFCRIV04&colid=3QAUVGDWI48Y7&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_s=right-4&pf_rd_r=0YJY8KAT16R6R571HXSP&pf_rd_t=101&pf_rd_p=362209101&pf_rd_i=507846

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