And the other guy has a compass dangling..and a bandaged right hand!
What's up with these guy's?? ha!!
It is anyone’s guess when it was placed there - any time between 1883 up to 20 or so years ago. My wild can’t-prove-a-thing says after WWII. There could be clues if the gun was loaded - the head stamps, bullet composition (lead/jacketed) and/or type of powder (blackpowder/smokeless)
would narrow the date range.
If it shows up on a 4473, that brings it into modern times.
We lived in Yorktown Virginia in ‘60 & ‘61. . I bought a pistol at a yard sale for $10 that someone had found on the Yorktown battlefield. I had an expert look at it and he said it had been made in the early 1700’s in France.
It probably was used in the Revolutionary War and someone probably died right where it was found.
I spent a lot of time walking on the York River bank and I found some cannonball fragments but they were probably Civil War.
The pistol is missing the barrel but the etched brass and carved wooden handle are intact. It is one of my favorite artifact. I would loved to have found it myself.
A man was teaching his son to hunt. He wanted his young 13-year-old son to set up his shots carefully, not just pop off a bunch and hope for the best; so the father removed the rifle’s lifter so that the boy could only discharge one cartridge at a time. And so the man and his son went hunting, leaving the lifter back in the man’s one-room house to be put back into the rifle when the boy matured a bit and learned to hunt the right way.
One day, while out on a hunt with his father, the young man, being easily distracted as youth are wont to become, put his gun up against the tree and went exploring around. When his dad finally caught up with him, he asked him, “Where’s your rifle, son?” The boy said, “Oh, it’s over there up against the tree, Dad.” His father said, “Which tree? Where?” “Over there, Dad!” “I don’t see it, son. Let’s go get it.”
So they looked, but the boy forgot where exactly it was, and the trees all looked dauntingly similar. And the boy forgot how far and in which direction he had traveled. So the boy and his father looked all afternoon, but they eventually had to go home because Mama had a pot roast in the stove for supper.
They tried over the next few months to find that rifle, but they never did find it. Then, 132 years later, the rifle was found by a society that hates guns, loves sodomy and frowns upon fatherhood. The gun was happy to be found but went into a major depressive episode later because the free and wild society that offered so much promise of Liberty to Americans and the world was turned into a sniveling little European nanny state. The rifle pined for the day when he could finally go hunting with a free child and his loving father again, but he found that, like the Constitution that protected the boy’s freedom, he was put under glass and consigned to a slow spiritual death by cultural malaise and general apathy.