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I am a glutton for hunting and war stories. Here is your chance to tell one or two. Clay Cooper surely you have something excit

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  • I am a glutton for hunting and war stories. Here is your chance to tell one or two. Clay Cooper surely you have something excit

    I am a glutton for hunting and war stories. Here is your chance to tell one or two. Clay Cooper surely you have something exciting to tell. Happy I know you have many more for us. Beekeeper, Ishawooa, Jim in Mo, Big O. Sorry if I missed anyone. Please tell your story here. Maybe I can some up with another one too!

  • #2
    My first night in a combat zone, we were getting shelled sporadically. Having been told to expect this I had dug the fighting hole to end all fighting holes. At least 10' deep we had to build a step just to see out. we covered the top with a thin sheet of plywood, sandbags and vegetation. I took the first two hour watch while my holemate slept. After my two hours I awoke him and we swapped. Exhausted I drifted off cringing to the sounds of explosions. My partner, exhausted as well, drifted off while on watch.

    Sometime in the middle of the night our platoon Sgt was making his rounds checking our defenses. Our hole was hidden extremely well and he walked onto the top of the plywood, which did not hold. So he, plywood, sandbags, and vegetation came crashing down in the middle of my chest. I thought it was a direct hit, I am sure I was screaming like a girl, because he was as well.

    That was my first experience with combat.

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    • #3
      When a new replacement soldier arrived at the 101st AbnDiv in 'Nam the first thing he did was go to a weeklong incountry orientation at camp Evans. One of my friends from Ft. Benning arrived about a week before me. His 2nd night in country he was on guard duty along the bunkerline. All our bases were ringed with a perimeter of bunkers with concertina wire and other obstacles to prevent enemy infiltration. NVA Sappers were highly trained soldiers that would crawl thru the wire at night dragging a satchel charge to blow ammo, artillery or other high value targets. On the night in question a sapper was crawling thru the wire in the wee hours. My friend spotted the dink when a flare popped overhead. He opened fire and got his first KIA. Other Cherries on the line opened fire for what turned out to be a waste of ammo. Also they killed 2 of our own when one man accidently shot another in the back and a M203 grenade fragment hit a fellow in his temple.

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      • #4
        T-hunden that was a good one LMAO.

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        • #5
          O.K., here's one for the hunting/war file.
          We were called to G.Q.(General Quarters)which if not in the navy means "battle-stations".
          Well I'm in the cat. spaces,(where we kept equip. to launch A/C(aircraft)/Waist Cats(catapults 3/4). When the work center super.(Lt.Commander) calls down and tells me to report to command(V-2 offices).
          Well when I get there, a buddy of mine(1st Class Petty Officer) is there and my commander tells me I'm to go with him for TDY(temp. assignment). So as we leave I ask where are we going and my buddy said you see when we get there. We go to one of the "MANY" gun postitions on the "boat" and askes me if I'd done any duck hunting back in Ark.(did I tell you there was gun fire in the back ground?). I tell him yea sure, and he said then you'll love this. We had met while standing "watch" in Naples Italy. Got to talking and we found out I went to school with his girlfriend(at the time)/wife, and he knew my Grand-dads family(two different towns).
          We go out to the position after he hands me a flak-jacket and a helmet, and I see this little boat(30/45ft.) with some guys shooting at us. My buddy said it's just like shooting ducks back home but ya' got to lead um' a little more, when all of a sudden the gunners mate starts up on the 20mm. He walked round down that thing from one end to another, sending another group of "freedom fighters" off to "paradise".
          That was just one of the times that this happened.
          Keep in mind the boat I was on was The Nimitz(C.V.N.69/First of her class). About 3 footbal fields long,a little over 1 football field wide and 63 ft. from the flight deck to the water.

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          • #6
            Hey Del, my dad was a Ranger in "Nam", what were you? (Rank ECT...)

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            • #7
              This story may pale in comparison to many of the ones that have been told here, but it holds great significance to me.

              It was October 4, 2002, and I was 13 years old. My dad and I were on my very first bow hunt. I had gotten a Browning Micro Midas for my birthday in July and had practiced all summer in preparation for archery season. We had been sitting in our homemade treestand all evening and had seen no game. With a few minutes of shooting light remaining, my dad instructed me to nock my field-pointed arrow and take a practice shot at a scrap of feed sack lying on the ground in order to practice drawing and shooting from a treestand. I drew, fired, and impaled the paper scrap, and we prepared to climb down and go home. As my dad turned around to begin the descent, he froze and whispered "Deer." I turned slowly and saw a lone deer feeding 75 yards off. I nocked another arrow and we watched as the deer fed toward us. Light was fading fast, and the deer was going slow. My knees were shaking like corn stalks in a tornado as I anxiously watched the deer, hoping he would come into range before it got completely dark. He finally got close enough, and I drew as he stood straddling the paper scrap at which I had taken my practice shot. I squinted as hard as possible and could just make out my 20 yard pin. I settled the pin behind the deer's shoulder and tripped my release. The deer turned back the way he had come and bolted 0 to 60 in half a second. We listened intently and soon heard a crash in the brush. My dad retrieved a flashlight from the truck, and we found the deer within a 100 yards. The arrow had pierced both lungs and stayed in the deer, protruding about 8 inches on the far side. That spike buck was the Pope & Young world record to me. It was the most exciting experience of my young life, and I couldn't have been more thrilled. It is still one of my fondest memories. My dad congratulated me copiously, but a few days later warned me, "One bow hunt, one deer...you know it's not always that easy."

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              • #8
                Alex, I was drafted in 1970. During advanced infantry training selected for NCO school. While in school spent some time training with the Rangers at Ft. Benning rappelling, Orienteering, etc. After graduation shipped to RVN a brand new buck Sergeant. Twenty years later retired SFC E-7. Much of it was training new soldiers on rifle ranges at Fts. Benning and Leonard Wood. Also had trips or assignments to Australia, Hawaii and Alaska.

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                • #9
                  While I was in RSA, I had the pleasure of helping guide a former U.S army sniper who had just been released from service. I Have always revered and respected the men and women who fight for this countries freedom, but this man made me respect the Our troops in another way. I was amazed by This snipers ability to shoot(quickly) from all positions. The crowning Glory for me happened when a troupe of baboons sprinted... and I mean sprinted accross a narrow clear-cut we had been following about 100 yards in front of us, the speed of the baboons, coupled with the narrow shooting lane left me stunned to hear three 308 blast in quick succession. The result: Three head shot baboons- 2 males and one large female. THis incedent made me feel a much higher level of respect for the skills of our soldiers, and in a way made me feel that our country was safer with men like this client protecting it.

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                  • #10
                    P.S. my excitement quickly diminished with the realization that I had to clean skin and salt three more baboons... nasty!!!

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                    • #11
                      While stationed at Eielson AFB AK, all the hunters will meet in my office during the week before Caribou season and make plans to go. One day at lunch everyone was there including the Branch Chief and a couple of the officers and when I walked in to my office this Buck Sergeant jumps up in my face and says out loud so all can hear and the room instantly became silent and all the attention was on us. He said in a boisterous voice, Sergeant Cooper how many bears have you shot! I looked back at him laughing and said I haven’t shot any bears it’s too easy! I asked him how many State and Regional High Power Matches have you won? The office exploded in laughter and he ran out.

                      The Saturday before I was running the Base Shooting Range and this same clown was sighting in his new 375 H&H Mag. I scoped his target and even shooting from the bench he wasn’t even “MOP” at 100 yards! So I grabbed my high power shooting jacket and scope and asked if he needed help. SURE he said this BLANKITY BLANK isn’t shooting right! So I removed the bolt and placed it on the sand bag. I visually bore sighted it in and fire the first shot made a correction and finished sighting it in with 4 more rounds the shot 3 rounds for a nice ¾ inch group and handed it back to him. He fired a couple more rounds still not “MOP” and said it will do! I asked him it wouldn’t be a good idea to use that rifle and got pissed, packed his stuck and scurried off.
                      Now the weekend after on Taylor Mountain this same guy shoots and wounds a really nice Bull Caribou and runs off the side of the mountain never to be found and drops 3 cows all with one shot. He panics and runs back to camp and his hunting companions convinces him to go back and pack the three cows out before Biologists form Game and Fish show up. After packing the 3 cows out he arrives at the Biologists office in Tok where the Biologist just finished loading his ATV. The Officer told this clown you just saved me a trip to come get you (News travels fast!). The Officer asked him for his harvest ticket and it wasn’t punched for the time, day and sex. The Officer said a kill is a kill and was fined $100 and suspension of hunting privileges for the remainder of the season. In September this same Sergeant wanted me to take him north of the Yukon River and to allow him to shoot a Caribou with my gun on my license. HELL NO I SAID!

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                      • #12
                        When we left Kuwait on a C-130 headed for Iraq I figured it would be a pretty calm flight, and it was until the desent started. The AF had started this thing that when they desend they do it withing a very small amount of space. This amounts to the longest roller coaster drop in the history of mankind. Anyhow, I was onboard with 20 or so Marines and one of them, as it was explained to me, gets car sick on a regular basis. His SGT informed him that if he got any amount of puke on him he would kick his ass. Well during this desent the poor guy looses his supper and I think every bit of it ended up on his SGT. Needless to say, my first 2 min on ground in Iraq was spent watching 2 puke covered Marines beat the crap out of each other. Kinda made me forget about where I was for a bit.

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                        • #13
                          This season has perhaps been "the best" experience for this student of the woods... it has tested my endurance, patience and certainly my faith. Savviness, being the step-brother to experience, has garnered the wisdom that is required for one to excel in "the sport of hunting."

                          Someone might say "I measure" my success by the score and attainable inches on the rack of a deer

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                          • #14
                            Phooey! I reject that thought as outlandish and narrow minded ...

                            I realize, perhaps for the first time ... it is the encounter, the practical knowledge, the intuitiveness, reasoning and experience that envelops my whole being ... "The Monstrosity Of Living In The Moment!"

                            Yes ... that's what it is! I am alive in the woods, truly alive! I will not be myself nor have cognation of what I truly am, unless I am in the woods. Perception is a beautiful thing, as I sit and wonder and marvel at what takes place, with all of God's creatures and creation.

                            Words dilute the experience, the moments, but the moments must be remembered, and remembered they will.

                            Monday, December 16th, 2008, I found myself hunting with my brother Bob, in 54 degree, windy, rainy weather. A favorable forecast was not on the horizon ... it was raining side-ways as I stalked to the Lexington Farm, past the small field were I had seen the huge broom stick, chocolate buck, opening day bow season.

                            Just as I got to the top of the pinnacle, I took a deep breath. Seconds after sucking rainy wind, a messenger of opportunity appeared without warning or announcing his presence. No phone call, no texted message, no door-bell, he was just there.

                            Less than thirty yards away, was the bucks I had been pursuing for two years. They watched, as I appeared cautiously over the small rise in the hill, and danced away in a fifty yard waltz and stopped, lookin' back at this intruder who grunted to stop their dash to safety.

                            I dropped to the ground, knowing I may get a shot off, if I could just locate where the elusive buck was, checking his back-trail. Where is he? Where is he? I couldn't find him at the time in the thicket with my scope. All of a sudden, (for the most part, I like "All of a suddens"), I saw his tail come up, as if he was saying all at one time ... "Hello and Good-bye!"

                            I had a 6 by 12 inch window to work with, I could have let the .45 caliber "Powerbelt" fly, but it was too late. One of the twin bucks appeared to be circling behind me to catch my wind. I hurried to the edge of the field and sat under a huge cedar to stifle the rain that was still pouring water on my reality.

                            After an hour and forty minutes of slowly scanning the fields, thickets and stumps, I decided to do what deer do.Try to meet back-up with them. I doubled back about forty yards to the left of the trail I had walked in on ...

                            They were right on the edge of the pinnacle I had stood on earlier. It had just stopped raining for the "first" time today, as I slowly made my way. Now, there were three bucks standing in all of their glory. The two point buck, looked like a small bull, the way his rack came around in front.

                            He noticed me first, and immediately dropped off of the highest point in the field, followed by the two broomstick Gentic Giants. The Genetic Giants didn't have to ask any questions, they weren't even curious. They just trusted and followed the two point buck. I ran to the edge of the point hoping, I could get a shot!

                            B-u-r-r-r ... I grunted, to no avail. I stood and watched in awe as the larger of the two Giants took the lead, followed closely by his twin and the two point bull. Of course, they made their way down to the creek bed, up the other side of the hill near Alex's, and through all of the cedar tops. They circled through the thickets and gallantly disappeared from my sight.

                            I called Bob , on the walkie-talkie, and described to him sparingly, what I had just witnessed. We decided to meet at the top of the ridge, where I assumed the three deer did their disappearing act and have lunch ...

                            On the assent to the top of the ridge, Bob called again and needed more directions. After assuring him and myself of his location, I tucked the communication device back in my upper shirt pocket. I took one step and the two pointer appeared out of the creek-bed again ... could the Gentic Giants be nearby?

                            I observed him as he made his way to Alex's fence-line. He was back tracking the way he just ran.

                            I waited, observed and realized the Giants probably made their way back to their sanctuary, leaving their little blood-brother behind. Ten more steps is all I needed to appear into the thickets that lined their escape route ...

                            I made my way to the top of the ridge to meet my brother, Bob, and discussed what I had just witnessed. We decided to make our way down the back-side of the steep slope, to the creek bed, to have lunch and discuss our next move through the woods.

                            After settling down and opening our backpacks we dined on a lunch of Salmon, Summer Sausage, cheese and crackers. After hydrating ourselves we packed up and decided to ascend the steeper of the two slopes, through the cedars, adjacent to the WMA.

                            Bob was hanging low, as I slowly stalked a thick point that was 200 yards from where we split up. I got to the top of the point about an hour later, and laid in a depression that was once a pond. I could move twenty yards to my left or right and see down into two different hollows.

                            An hour and a half later, a doe came by quickly, lookin' to the top of the ridge, as if she knew there was a deer there.She went from left to right, without ever lookin' in my direction. She was about 20 yards from me, but I was more interested in what she detected ...

                            I made a slow stalk to the top of the ridge and made my way to the cleared-cedar cut. I made a few grunts at the top of the ridge, but nothing transpired. I slowly walked thirty yards down from the ridge and stopped ... I grunted and something started to walk quickly towards me.

                            I couldn't locate the source of the sound, so I grunted again. This time the deer started to run,I slowly looked to the left,no deer,I slowly looked to the right,no deer.It was on top of me in no time ... I slowly turned around and saw a big buck stopping dead in his tracks and doing an immediate U-turn.

                            It was the big non-typical, and his rack was wider than his big body. He didn't hesitate as he ran "back into" the wind. That was wild ... he was coming to my grunt calls as the wind blew steadily from him to me. That's why I looked behind me last. I thought he was using a cross-wind to come to my grunt call.

                            By now, it was 3:00 pm and we needed to make our way back to camp. We saw a few does but passed them up as we were quite some distance from the truck.

                            What an experience ... this whole deer season has been like this.

                            It was another great year, for myself, personally.

                            Everyone I went huntin' with, got a deer of their choice and then some.
                            I was worried that the two twin Gentic Giants, I had seen last year were gone ... somehow dead. But, I finally got to see them and hopefully can still stick one.

                            I believe this year, I learned more about myself, by huntin' and campin' alone, in the solitude of the wilderness, and all of the quietness that accompanies the cold darkness of the night.

                            I realize a man can see a lot, as he looks into a campfire, as long as he keeps an open mind and is willing to accept the truth of compunction that pricks the mind like a sewing needle.

                            One of the neatest moments of this season, was when I was huntin' alone and fell asleep in the woods under a huge oak tree as night was falling. I soon began to hear sounds I wasn't familiar with, when a small coon came down the tree that I had bedded under.

                            He didn't know if he wanted to go back up or spend time with this intruder, that was under his home.

                            Well, I'm still out there, still trying to stick a biggun ...

                            This story came from my huntin' journal.
                            Sorry for the double post.

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                            • #15
                              Silsbyj I LOVE COMBAT LANDINGS!!!! I especally like setting across from a newbie and watching his face that last 30 seconds before the decent! cousse I always like roller costers two! Ok first tour in Iraq was in 03 when we were actually roading our vehicles from Kuwait all the way to Iraq. Well it took several days, we drove all day and into the night and made "rest stops" after midnight and kicked out a few hours later. Well we finally made it to our base in Iraq, where there were no quarters available (kind of a no room at the in) so we spent the first three days in Iraq camped out in a motor pool. Well we were camped out in and around our trucks and did I mention that that was the first time I experienced a rocket attack? Oh yeah what fun it was, we were just getting bedded down one evening when hodgie started lobing rockets in on our position. I've never seen so many cots get fliped and rifles sticking out from under HMMVES in my life!

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