That's a roj!
Posted on 05/03/2002 6:15:18 AM PDT by Clive
In the days of lace-ruffles, perukes and brocade
Brown Bess was a partner whom none could despise--
An out-spoken, flinty-lipped, brazen-faced jade,
With a habit of looking men strait in the eyes--
At Blenheim and Ramillies fops would confess
They were pierced to the heart by the charms of Brown Bess.
Though her sight was not long and her weight was not small,
Yet her actions were winning, her language was clear;
And everyone bowed as she opened the ball
On the arm of some high-gaitered, grim grenadier.
Half Europe admitted the striking success
Of the dances and routs that were given by Brown Bess.
When ruffles were turned into stiff leather stocks,
And people wore pigtails instead of perukes,
Brown Bess never altered her iron-grew locks.
She knew she was valued for more than her looks.
"Oh, powder and patches was always my dress,
And I think am killing enough," said Brown Bess.
So she followed her red-coats, whatever they did,
From the heights of Quebec to the plains of Assaye,
From Gibraltar to Acre, Cape Town and Madrid,
And nothing about her was changed on the way;
(But most of the Empire which now we possess
Was won through those years by old-fashioned Brown Bess.)
In stubborn retreat or in stately advance,
From the Portugal coast to the cork-woods of Spain,
She had puzzled some excellent Marshals of France
Till none of them wanted to meet her again:
But later, near Brussels, Napoleon--no less--
Arranged for a Waterloo ball with Brown Bess.
She had danced till the dawn of that terrible day--
She danced till the dusk of more terrible night,
And before her linked squares his battalions gave way,
And her long fierce quadrilles put his lancers to flight:
And when his gilt carriage drove of in the press,
"I have danced my last dance for the world!" said Brown Bess.
If you go to Museums--there's one in Whitehall--
Where old weapons are shown with their names writ beneath,
You will find her, upstanding, her back to the wall,
As stiff as a ramrod, the flint in her teeth.
And if ever we English had reason to bless
Any arm save our mothers', that arm is Brown Bess!
Mine was the Lee Enfield No. 4 Mark 1 Star.
My US contemporaries, for some strange reason, hold an undue affection for the Garand.
I suppose the present generation will, in later years, look back fondly on the M16.
That's a roj!
Nothing wrong with the SMLE, mind you.
FN Model "D" B.A.R.
#1 Maxim Machine gun
#2 Colt Patterson Revolver
#3 Colt 1911 Pistol
#4 The Brown Bess Musket
#5 Mauser 98 Gewehr Rifle
#6 AK-47 Assault Rifle
#7 M1 Garand Rifle
#8 Matchlock Rifle
#9 Kentucky Rifle
#10 BAR Browning Automatic Rifle
If there was a number eleven, it would have to be the Henry Rifle.
The Brown Bess
REmember that the weapons were intended to be dragged around the world by young men and still be able to do their work in dust and mud.
For that purpose, the Lee Enfield is a better weapon: simpler, more robust and easier to take care of.
Them's fight'n words...
M-1
©By R.A.Gannon
Do you wonder why that rifle
Is hanging in my den?
You know I rarely take it down
But I touch it now and then.
It’s rather slow and heavy
By standards of today
But not too many years ago
It swept the rest away.
It’s held its own in battles
Through snow, or rain, or sun
And I had one just like it,
This treasured old M-1.
It went ashore at Bougainville
In Nineteen Forty-Three.
It stormed the beach at Tarawa
Through a bullet-riddled sea.
Saipan knew its strident bark,
Kwajelein, its sting.
The rocky caves of Peleliu
Resounded with its ring.
It climbed the hill on Iwo
With men who wouldn’t stop
And left our nation’s banner
Flying on the top.
It poked its nose in Pusan,
Screamed an angry roar
And took the First Division
From Chosin Reservoir.
Well, time moves on
And things improve
With rifles and with men,
And that is why the two of us
Are sitting in my den.
But sometimes on a winter night,
While thinking of my Corps,
I know that if the bugle blew
We’d be a team once more.
To give due credit, this was found on Culiver's Shooting Page...along with another, called Rifles...I must be getting soft as I age...both of these poems had me starting to...oh never mind....
And all those parts worked in the dust of Northern Africa, The mud of Guadalcanal and the snow of Korea. In World War Two, The Garand was truly the finest battle implement ever created.
By the way, what happened to you during the Freeper handgun match?
In World War two, the general consensus was that the German's had the finest hunting rifle, The American's had the finest target rifle and the British had the finest battle rifle. American's had to pay royalties to Mauser for the use of their design. I don't know if the British did that.
Be it dust, freezing rain, snow or mud ...... the Garand design is perfect...........those who have carried it when their lives were dependent on it's ability to function properly , even when less than stellar cleaning and upkeep is evident, lived to brag about it's wonders as I am doing here.
Sure it's heavier than a modern ultralite battle riffle such as a Steyr Aug, AR series, and the latest/greatest whizzbang whatchmacallitbullethose. But then the garand was to be used "accurately".....one target, one hit, one kill.....
If the North Korean's and ChiCom's came south tomorrow and I was called back to service I'd still ask (or bring my own supermatch 3 lug smith, mcmillan glass stocked version :o) for an M1A (M-14) rifle w/ 13 each 20 round magazines and 4 bandoleers of spare ammo and feel well armed indeed.
My choice is based on use ....not opinions of some gun rag commando........
Stay Safe ITA !!
From Garand Collectors Association
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