[USNBandit]

When I was in high school my father became the proud owner of a british Boyce (SP? Don't have my copy of the Miracle at Dunkirk with me) Anti-Tank Rifle. It was chambered in a .55 caliber cartridge that looked like a huge belted magnum.

After my father passed away, my mother was trying to decide what to do with it. Since it was a class 3 weapon my brother and I were concerned about trying to haul the thing around during our military careers. Fortunately it went to a loving home. The guy owned a half track and a Sherman Tank. We were all pleased with the sale, especially when he bought our 4 pounder muzzle loading cannon as well.

To this day my mother still complains about tripping over "that darned anti-tank gun." I, on the other hand, recall the boyish (or Boycish) glee on his face the first time he fired it. After the monstrous report he got up looking a little dazed, his glasses and ear protectors askew with the biggest grin on his face.

Does that not define "the pursuit of happiness?"

[no-s]

I think it's a "Boys" anti-tank rifle.

The boys were flipping through Jane's, they found it and asked if I had one when I was little and could they please get one too.