Stage Screwups

[Marshal Halloway]

Ok, how about some true stories about shooting stages where you screwed up.

I have had a few to say the least and here is the first one.....

Mongo Marshal
 
I guess there are still cowboy shooters in Scandinavia that still call me Mongo Marshal.
Well, here is the story behind it....
 
I attended a CAS Match in Sweden, called Purgatory.

It had been raining off and on all day that morning, so things had a different feel to them because of the weather. We had shot in the rain before, so this drizzle off and on wasn't concerning me too much. I believe it was the first stage of the match and I was soooo ready to do my best.
 
My starting position was fronting the side of a wooden horse.  Now this wooden horse was big. About 5 1/2 foot tall and HEAVY. I was to pick up the rifle out of the scabbard from the horses' side, and shoot 10 rounds over the horses' back, then run 15 yards down range to finish the stage, shooting 10 rounds pistol and 6 shotgun.
 
Right when the RO said "Shooter Ready", it started to rain like the Atlantic had dumped it's whole ocean on my head. It was a downpour.

Beeper went off and I grabbed the rifle, rested it on the horse and started shooting.  It was hard to see and I could feel the hat start to soak up and was pulling and tipping to the front and sliding down on top of my ears.  I had to tilt my head backwards to be able to see the darned targets. So my hat was full of water ..and my head was thrown back trying to see under the hat  but which made the rain water from my hat run down my back. And I was shooting with my head cocked back . This was not looking good and I missed 2 targets.  dang! 10 seconds added to my score. So while I was firing the last rounds from my rifle, I decided I was going to have to run like hell to the next position to catch up because of the misses.
 
I finished shooting..I slammed  the rifle in the scabbard and took off like the my ass was on fire... but.....
I forgot to adjust my rain heavy hat that was almost down on the tip of my nose where my shooting glasses had slid down to a complete stop.
My heart was beating fast and my adrenalin was high. I was pumped!  I knew I could make up the time.. I just knew it!

Stay focused on running, I told myself.... I was on a mission.

I whirled around and turned left to get pass the horse, then had to turn right to run downrange towards a barrel, the shooting position for my pistols.

Something happened.  I just heard a loud noise....felt a burning in my head and neck.  My hat was still on my head, but twisted kind of sideways. Couldn't worry about my hat right now, I was thinking.. got to run.. got to make up that time.

I just kept running with my chest poked out, my feet and knees stepping high and my head tilted way backwards so I was able to see in front of me. I heard the crowd howling and horse-laughing behind me and the RO wheezing and huffing and puffing, trying to follow me.
 
I almost ran down and into the barrel before I was able to stop. I still hadn't taken the time to twist my very sideways, wet soaked, hat back on straight. I was so focused, I  didn't even realize that the dang thing was all crooked on my head.  So still tilting my head almost 45 degrees backwards, shot the pistols and went for the shotgun.
 
Then I felt it.... one heck of a pain in my head. I stopped for about half a second, adjusted my hat, shaking my head, focusing my eyes and shot the shotgun six rounds and stopped.
 
I turned back.... the RO was on the ground on his knees, holding his belly laughing, the crowd bending in all directions, laughing and applauding.
 
The horse that did me the favor of letting me rest the rifle on his back, was on the ground...."dead".
The big heavy wooden monster of a horse was knocked over and laying on the ground....  and my forehead was pounding because of it.

I had turned to soon to the right and me and the horse had a head to head rendezvous. The adrenalin made me not feel the pain until it was almost over.
 
And yes, I earned the name Mongo Marshal.
   

[Big John Denny]

Marshal, now I'm getting real suspecious. Does this thread have anything to do with explaining recent bumps possibly received by you in reference to a previous thread that got a member of your family all riled up? The public wants to know.

Gosh, running into that rollin...er, I mean barrel horse must have hurt a lot.

[Marshal'ette Halloway]

His recent rollin' pin bumps are on the back of his head... ( I even initialed them with magic marker)

The bumps made from the wooden horse was 'before me'
 so anything that happened in Norway, I don't get to take any credit for.

[Advertising]

[Marshal Halloway]

Ok, here's another true story from the Marshal's Book of Great Memories:

A RANGE OFFICER AND BEANS....
 
A few years ago we had a Friendship Match between the local police, members of a Bullseye Pistol Club and the Cas Club.
 
We shot stages with both cas and modern firerarms. A mix and not so strict rules where the main goal was to get to know each other and to have fun.

Well, a competitor is always a competitor, so there were a few of us that wanted to win. I was one of them.
 
I did pretty good in what we called The Revolver Match. It was 5 stages where we shot with 1 revolver, either single action or double action.
 
Before the last stage started, I knew I had a very good chance of winning, if I kept doing what I had been doing.
 
My good friend Lefty was the RO and we had just finished lunch.......... bacon and beans.
 
I was more than ready to get back to the competition after a nice break.
 
A police officer was about 3 seconds behind me shooting his issued double action S&W. So there I was, full of confidence, but still a little tense and fully motivated to try to do my best. The targets were small, so my Uberti had to be held pretty steady to compete with an adjustable sighted DA.
 
Okay, I was thinking to myself.....5 quick but accurate rounds and this wannabe cowboy would soon beat the very best shooter in the local police force. It was quiet in the crowd.. 2 top shooters.. different clubs... honor was at stake..
 
My friend and fellow competitor stood a few feet to my left at the loading table. He had loaded his S&W and stood there kind of relaxed as if he knew that winning the competition was out of his hands..and into mine..
Made me walk a little straighter to the line... I knew I had it won....but I also knew I could afford no screw ups.. had to shoot straight, fast and on target. I was more than ready.
 
Lefty said the initial commands and my eyes started concentrating on the five targets in front of me. I repeated the course of fire in my head.... 1,5,2,4 and 3.

I nodded... the beeper went off.

As I went for my sixgun, I heard something else go off to my right.. even with my ear plugs in, there was no doubt what that sound was. A sound from the RO telling me the beans had hit the bullseye spot....



I tried to forget it as soon as I heard it... *..clear your head Marshal..shoot the gun*
 
My gun came up and the first target was in line. Bang, Clang! As I moved to target #5 to the far right, I heard people starting to laugh.... Again, I tried to block it out. **Concentrate.. don't think about it...Concentrate*, but I knew already that it was a lost cause...

My mouth began to twitch and my belly crunched as I pulled the trigger for the second target... Bang, Clang....! Whew.  2 down ..3 to go.. Still the sound of those beans hitting home, was ringing in my ears. I swung the gun to the other target. I was ready for shot #3, target #2, I remembered the course... but my upper body was already shaking hard from holding the laughter back...
Still my hands were steady and I repeated the success. Bang, Clang!
Two left to go....

Now, picture this: Try to hold your breath to avoid laughing..face all contorted trying to focus on the targets, and holding your hands steady while the rest of the body is like a major earthquake in California. Bang, Ping.  I hit the target, but a half inch from the right edge. Dang, I almost missed.

I was about to croak and I had to let out a little air. So I did..and  took a deep breath and that did it. Opening up my mouth was all it took to let the body earthquake move over the shoulders and down to my arms. I laughed hard and loud. I did my best to line up towards the last target but it danced in front of me like a frog on a springboard.  I had already lost two seconds by trying to get the target within the sight picture, and I absolutely had lost the ability to stop laughing.. so I focused the best I could and just squeezed the trigger at the same time, but when the shot went off, all I heard was a bang and the dirt was flying high behind the target.
 
I holstered, turned around and Lefty had the same innocent look of a five year old trying to hide the fact he had done something wrong.
 
People were just wiping tears and horse laughing around me and I announced loudly to Lefty that for the future if he was to be assigned as a timer operator he was banned from eating beans at least five days before a match.
 
Well, the police officer came in first and beat me by 0.7 seconds.

From Marshal H.'s personal Shooter's Handbook:



Section 15, 1.2.1: Timer Operators running stages on monthly and annual matches are prohibited from eating beans 5 days prior to the match.

[Griff]

My best (read most memorable) screwup:  I seem to recall it being 1988 and I was entered in the BP Class at EOT.  Back then the only BP class required use of cap & ball revolvers, plus BP or acceptable substitute in rifle & shotgun (dbls only).  Anyway, back to story; to reduce the time BP shooters took to load, we were allowed to charge the cylinders off the line, and cap at the loading table.  So there I was, in trailer, charging the sixgun (an EMF '51 Navy) when in rushed my sone (10 years old at the time) with some "emergency"!   After taking care of the immediate child care problem, I went off in search of my posse and await my turn at the loading table.
All went well... till the timer went off!  We were seated in the one-holer/jail facing the timer.  At the buzzer we had to reach outside the door, open it and then step around the corner and fire at 5 knockdown targets about 10 yards away.  Well, to this day I swear I cleaned that stage, and in a smart timely fashion.  However, none of the pistol targets fell down.  As I finished with the rifle, and picked up the shotgun to finish the badguys off, I noticed the timer and safety officer were laughing rather louding.  As I cleared the shotgun, I noticed the whole gallery was laughing/pointing/commenting in my general direction.
After removing my earmuffs the timer told me how impressed he was with my shooting precision.  He (Greybeard of old) said:  "You hit all of your pistol targets up high where those little .36 caliber balls would have knocked those big heavy targets down!  If only you'd had some balls loaded in your cylinders; them little Wonder Wads don't carry enough energy to knock anything down!"
Almost acquired a new moniker that day.  A few tried, but upon being upbraided with my quiet indignation, they stopped.

[The Arapaho Kid]

Yep!  I can relate to miss loads.  One stage we had a four target spread and a bonus target.  Shoot left to right.  Now remember...5 rounds in the pistol at the loading table.  The Bottom Of The Barrel Kid comes up to the firing line, pistol holstered.  The timer tells me...shoot left to right, then take out the bonus target, a clay pigeon.  I rip off four rounds and get four hits.  Cock the pistol for the bonus target, take aim...squeeze the trigger and.....CLICK!  Two cocks and clicks later the timer asks me for my pistol.  He takes this, puts it on half cock, opens the loading gate and spins the cylinder.  I had forgotten to put in the fifth bullet.

[Arcey]

Two come to mind.

Shootin' out of a saloon once.  Everything was staged on a card table.  Had finished everything else and went after the shotgun targets BAMBAM!  I can get a little carried away sometimes when I bust the shotgun to dump the empties.  Up goes the muzzles and - suddenly - it was snowing.  White stuff was fallin' on me 'n my staged guns.

Well, sir.  The card table was under a milk glass chandelier 'n that shotgun was just long 'nuff ta reach it.  It doesn't hang there anymore.

Then there was one of them days when just nothin' went right.  I screwed up the shootin' order or something so I slow way up 'n I'm runnin' my mouth to the RO while I'm finishin' the stage.  Done blown it, no need to hurry.  Holster my second pistol, pick up the rifle 'n start to the unloadin' table.

RO sez, 'Arcey, ya think ya might wanna shoot yer shotgun?  Ya ain't finished the stage.'

[Missouri Marshal]

Well other than tryin ta shoot my rifle with the safety on in my firs match(story on first match thread)  My worst screw up was on a stage that called for a 5 rnd pistol dump on the left P target,then a 10 round Rifle dump on the  R Target, then a 5 rnd pistol dump on the right P target then 4 shotgun on knockdowns.  Well I git up to the Line and shoot my first pistol, went grate, shot my rifle, quickest 10 rnds I ever shot, whew great.  Grab my shotgun smooth.  Pick up my rifle and go to the unloading table.  Clear the rifle and shotgun.  While unloading my first pistol the score keeper comes over and ask, "Did you shoot your second pistol?"  "Huh?, I think I did."  Checked the second pistol, fully loaded.  Didn't no body catch it but the score keeper.  The pards were generous though, only charged me with a procedural and 5 misses, could have got me fer a safety too but didn't.  Not only was that a major screw up but..............I wrote the stage!  First match I ever wrote.  Darn, I hate snakes!

[Arcey]

Ain't exactly a stage screw up but it was awfully embarrassing nonetheless.  Reading Marauder's post on another thread reminded me of it.

Got it into my head that I wanted to shoot Black Powder.  I'd shot some cartridge stuff out of the pistols but I'd never loaded a shotshell.  I was careful with it.  Talked to a couple folks that shot Black and loaded their own.  Read what I could.  If anything the box of shells I loaded were light.

I had shot smokeless all day.  The plan was to test the things on the knock downs after the shoot was over.

The shoots over.  Not many folks had carts at the time.  They weren't needed.  The club provided a long gun rack.  So I grab the shotgun and Tensleep and I go down range with the box of BP shells. They worked.  I think I shot four, then he shot four so I could see the smoke from an angle away from the butt of the shotgun.  I'm happy.

We head back to the rack and there's Hard John.  The boys walking up and down the rack looking at Stoegers.  Ut...... Oh....
My Stoeger was all beat up the day I bought it.  His is real nice.  I look at the shotgun I'm holding and it ain't beat up.  I look at one in the rack and it is.

'Uhhhhhhh, HJ.  I took your shotgun by mistake and used it for test loads.'

'Don't worry about it, that's ok.  I was just wondering where I put it.  As long as I have it back.'

'Well, I uh, it was, I mean, it was accidental.  The test loads were Black Powder.'

I'll never forget the look on his face....................

[Camille Eonich]

First time that I hit a popper I got so excited that I forgot that I still had my rifle and two pistols to shoot.  I was just standing there grinning.


'nother stage was start with one pistol, run to the middle of the berm and shoot your rifle then to the far side of the berm and shoot your second pistol then finish up with the shotgun.  Finished shooting my second pistol and started packing up to head to the loading table.  Wondered why in the heck people was hollerin' at me so loud.



Many many time I have stood at the loading table and watch people walk up to the line and leave their pistols laying on the loading table.  I like to holler at them about the time they get their long guns settled down.


"Hey, you need these?"

[Stump Water]

Many many time I have stood at the loading table and watch people walk up to the line and leave their pistols laying on the loading table.  I like to holler at them about the time they get their long guns settled down.

"Hey, you need these?"

My # is 48329.  Her # is 48444.  Most scoring programs sort the posse by SASS #.  Who do ya reckon she's always hollerin' at? 

[Camille Eonich]

 


It's not just you!  I shoot behind other people sometimes too.   

[Silver Creek Slim]

I think is was last year for our St. Valentine's Day shoot. In Wisconsin during the middle of February, it tends to be a might cold. I think the high temp for the day was 25 degrees F. When the temp is low, the air cannot hold as much moisture. We had a campfire going to warm ourselves. I don't remember if it was the first or second stage, but it was early in the 5 stage match. I was shooting my 1875 Remingtons with fully stoked BP loads. I was shooting Duelist style. (Some of y'all may have guessed what happened by the hints I have dropped.  ) Enough with the background, it was my turn up to the line. We were to shot one pistol, the second pistol, rifle, and then shotgun. I started by standing on the boardwalk looking in the saloon window. At the buzzer, I grabbed the first pistol, stuffed it in the window, lined up the sights on the target, and squeezed the trigger. Now, fer those who have not fired .45 Colt With 255 gr boolits on top of a full case of BP one handed, there is a bit of recoil, not like a .44 Mag mind ya but enough to make the pistol jump up and back. Well, these pistols had the factory vanished finish on them. With the cold temp, low humidity, and slick grip finish, the pistol decided to keep recoiling (Is that a word?) and went right out of my hand. Scenes in movies sometimes go into slow motion, sometimes life goes into slo mo, also. The pistol crossed in front of me from right of left. It tapped my left hand as it went by. It did about three somersaults before it landed on the boardwalk beside me. I turned to look at the pistol and posse behind. For some reason, most of the posse members' jaws were on the ground.
I don't cock a pistol until it is almost on target, so this pistol has hammer down on an empty round.

Slim

[Stump Water]

Blue Ridge Roundup (two-day match) First day, first stage, first gun.  Jerked the off-side hogleg and let five fly.  Went to put 'er back in the bucket and let go of it as soon as it touched leather. Siezing the opportunity offered, Gravity assumed control of that pistol and threw it right on the ground. 

I musta been a sight 'cause next thing I can remember the RO (Doc Cavity I believe) had a hold of my arm asking, "You Ok?" I mumbled something and managed to wobble to the unloading table unassisted.

Then came the cold slimey sweat.