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Abdul Hamid: The Subcontinent’s Audie Murphy by Will Dabbs

Abdul Hamid was an Indian soldier who fought and died in the 1965 Indo-Pakistani War. His battlefield exploits were legendary.

Human beings are tribal, and we live in a big old world. With so many people from so many backgrounds cluttering up the place, we naturally identify more readily with folks who look and sound like we do. Some might misinterpret that as racism. That’s just life. It is simply that it takes a little insight and logic to appreciate the nuances. This deep into the Information Age, both of these commodities can be in fairly short supply.

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As a result, I most easily identify with the Audie Murphy sort of hero. Murphy was a skinny little white kid who came up in the most deplorable circumstances. He went on to become the most decorated American soldier in history. I don’t think we have explored his story here before. I’ll have to remedy that. His tale is indeed compelling.

War on the Subcontinent

As an unwashed American redneck, Indian culture seems terribly foreign to me.

By contrast, India is on the other side of the world from where I currently sit comfortably ensconced in my favorite writing chair. The Indian people don’t look or sound much like me. Their customs are foreign as is their history. However, the Indians have a rich military legacy far older than our own.

Even in relatively recent history, the Indians have been engaged in some extraordinary examples of sweeping armed conflict, none of which are taught in the sorts of American schools I attended. When you have war, you will find warriors. Do that long enough and you will inevitably produce heroes.

Unfettered Terror

Take it from me, being downrange from one of these bad boys once it gets tooled up is pretty unsettling.

It is the threat of violent gory death that is humankind’s greatest motivator. Nobody wants to lose their homes, their families, or their wealth. However, what you really, really don’t want is to get ripped to pieces by sleeting clouds of red-hot steel. As a result, we curiously violent humans have invested literally incalculable time, treasure, and talent in contriving machines designed solely to do just that. On the modern battlefield, one of the most compelling is the tank.

I have myself been shot at by a tank before. Make no mistake, I’m no hero nor am I even a combat veteran. I was out of the military and in med school prior to 911. This whole sordid mess stemmed from a most unfortunate misunderstanding. I was someplace I wasn’t supposed to be, and my tanker buddies were blissfully unaware of my presence. In a nutshell, I cowered between the tracks of a derelict bulldozer alongside a friend while a platoon of M1 Abrams tanks shot the old earthmover up with their .50 calibers and coax guns. To paraphrase Winston Churchill, that made for a most exhilarating experience.

Trust me when I tell you, that is a freaking horrifying place to be. When you have 130,000 pounds’ worth of pure unfiltered pain unlimbered in your direction it can be tough to think straight. However, certain remarkable personalities can not only operate in that space, they can thrive. An extraordinary Indian soldier named Abdul Hamid was one of them.

The Guy: Abdul Hamid

Abdul Hamid was an Indian war hero.

Company Quartermaster Abdul Hamid Idrisi was born in the summer of 1933 in a village in the Ghazipur District of Uttar Pradesh in India to Sakina Begum and Mohammad Usman. His dad was a tailor. As a boy, Hamid worked in his father’s clothing business running a sewing machine. Hamid enlisted in the Indian Army’s Grenadiers Regiment in 1954 at the age of 21.

India has been fighting the Chinese and the Pakistanis off and on for decades. Sometimes these conflicts are piddly smoldering things that orbit around minor border disputes. Others are roiling combined arms fights spread out across sweeping battlefields. Abdul Hamid saw a great deal of that.

Hamid first saw the elephant in 1962 during the Sino-Indian War. He participated in the Battle of Namka Chu against the Chinese People’s Liberation Army. During this bloody fight, Hamid’s battalion was surrounded and cut off from support. In desperation, they broke out on foot through Butan and then onto Misamari. Three years later in 1965, Hamid was a seasoned combat veteran.

The Place

This looks like a ghastly place to fight.

I don’t begin to understand the geopolitics of the Indo-Pakistani War of 1965. At that time my people were busy getting ramped up in Southeast Asia. In a nutshell, Wikipedia claims that the Pakistanis were infiltrating the provinces of Jammu and Kashmir to foment a rebellion against Indian rule. The acrimony in this place went way back.

When the British finally called it a day, took their toys, and went home in 1947, they left a mighty vacuum. Nature hates such stuff, so the locals were scrapping in short order. The United Nations mediated a ceasefire in 1949 and established a de facto border, but nobody was happy with it. Despite countless cross-border smackdowns and several proper wars, the place remains a festering wound even today. Back in 1965, things were poised to get seriously kinetic.

The Pakistanis kicked off this party with 30,000 trained guerilla fighters they intended to infiltrate into the area. The Indian Army got wind of this, broke up the insurgent formations, and knocked the dog snot out of their staging bases. In response, the Pakistanis launched a massive conventional military offensive. The Indians naturally responded in kind. Tanks, tactical air, and artillery all did what they did.

Things Get Real For Abdul Hamid

Abdul Hamid used his jeep-mounted recoilless rifle to great effect against Pakistani armor.

Hamid’s Grenadiers arrived onsite around midnight on the evening of 7 September 1965 and began to dig in. The following morning they heard the telltale rumble of approaching Pakistani tanks. As I mentioned earlier, being a dismounted earth pig at the bottom of some shallow hole faced with a coordinated armored assault is a mighty lonely place. Any normal bloke would want to be almost any place but there. Amidst this terribly toxic milieu, Hamid found himself hunkered down behind a 105mm recoilless rifle mounted on a Jonga jeep.

The vanguard of the Pakistani armored assault reached Hamid’s position at 0730 hours. Hamid waited until the lead tank got within thirty feet and pithed it with his recoilless gun. The tank brewed up, and the crews in the following pair of tracks abandoned their vehicles and fled. However, in the aftermath, the Pakistanis pummeled the Indian positions with artillery.

Deftly wielded, the American M48 Patton was a formidable main battle tank in its day.

Early in the afternoon, the Pakistanis tried again. Hamid and his crew killed a second Pakistani tank and caused the supporting crews to beat their feet once more. An Indian engineering company then showed up and defiled the place with a wide variety of anti-tank and anti-personnel mines.

The following morning, Hamid’s position was ruthlessly strafed by Pakistani Sabre jets resulting in extensive casualties. Immediately afterward, the Pakistanis followed up with a series of coordinated assaults. By the end of the second day, Hamid had accounted for a further four Pakistani tanks. Keep in mind, this guy isn’t taking out these tanks from eight klicks distant in an air-conditioned attack helicopter. He’s killing these US-supplied Pakistani M48 Patton tanks with the tactical equivalent of a big honking bazooka.

The Armor Situation

The Centurion was Britain’s most effective WW2-vintage tank. It was widely exported and saw action for decades afterward.

The M48 Pattons used by the Pakistanis represented the state of the art at the time. Opposing them in Indian service were WW2-vintage Shermans and British-made Centurions. The Shermans were withdrawn as they were ineffective against the later-generation Pattons. The Centurions were repositioned to a different part of the battlefield.

Modern combined arms warfare is both fluid and unimaginably lethal. Pakistani commanders explored defenses and exploited weaknesses. In this case, the only thing standing between the Pakistanis and their coveted breakthrough was Hamid’s recoilless rifle and a handful of antitank mines.

The Weapon

A recoilless rifle creates an impressive backblast signature when fired.

A recoilless rifle is a curious thing. Though it looks a bit like a rocket launcher, this is not the case. The recoilless rifle is a fascinating study in physics.

In any dynamic system, mass times velocity in one direction will always equal mass times velocity in the other direction. That’s not just a good idea. That’s the law.

Recoilless rifle ammunition uses a perforated case that allows the exhaust gases to escape out the rear of the weapon.

In the case of a recoilless rifle, the weapon is a giant gun firing fixed ammunition. It is simply that the cartridge case is perforated and full of holes, and the back of the weapon is open to the atmosphere. When the gun is fired the projectile leaves the muzzle as the exhaust gases exit through a venturi in the rear.

The resulting system can throw a lot of ordnance downrange, but it consumes vast quantities of propellant and produces a simply breathtaking backblast. The American M3E1 Multi-Role Anti-Armor Anti-Personnel Weapon System version of the venerable Swedish 84mm Carl Gustav is a modern example currently in use with US troops.

It Gets Worse

Artillery has long been the biggest killer on the battlefield. Redlegs (artillery soldiers) rightfully refer to the field artillery as the King of Battle.

The following morning, another wave of Pakistani tanks assaulted Hamid’s position. By now, Hamid’s jeep was shot to pieces but still drivable though just barely. Hamid killed a tank at a range of 180 meters and then picked off yet another soon thereafter. By now, however, the artillery fire was becoming intolerable. Hamid ordered his gun team to move the raggedy jeep to another position to get clear of some of the shellfire.

Once in their new firing position, Hamid directed his men to seek cover against the sleeting artillery. Now alone behind his gun, Hamid spotted another Pakistani tank. The enemy tank commander identified him at the same time. Hamid exchanged fire with the Patton but was blown to pieces by a high explosive main gun round.

Ruminations On Abdul Hamid

The Indians captured vast quantities of war materiel during the 1965 Indo-Pakistani War.

The Battle of Asal Uttar was a decisive Indian victory. Hamid and his crew destroyed eight Pakistani Patton tanks and damaged a ninth before their gun was knocked out. Abdul Hamid was awarded the Param Vir Chakra, India’s highest combat decoration for valor. Hamid was 32 when he was killed.

Abdul Hamid is rightfully viewed as a hero in India today.

Hamid’s sacrifice was inspirational. His selfless efforts helped spur his battalion on to resist further Pakistani attacks and played a huge part in the ultimate Indian victory. He is venerated in Indian society today.

While the names and places seem terribly foreign to us over on this side of the pond, battlefield bravery is the same the world over. Abdul Hamid, like all real heroes, did not necessarily fight for his government, his country, or even his people. Abdul Hamid fought for his buddies. In the end, he sent his comrades to safety while he remained exposed and in action engaging the threat. He ultimately gave his life to support his friends, because that’s what true heroes do.

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A Circassian, where they breed some mighty hard men

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Dr. Dabbs – Ralph Goranson: The Real Captain Miller BY Will Dabbs

Saving Private Ryan was a simply fantastic movie.

The Movie’s Captain Miller

In 1998 Stephen Ambrose, Stephen Spielberg, and Tom Hanks debuted what is arguably the finest war movie ever made. The storyline of Saving Private Ryan was fabricated from whole cloth. While there were several actual heartrending tales of multiple brothers from the same family having been lost in combat during World War 2, the operation to task Captain Miller and his Ranger detachment to retrieve a single young paratrooper amidst the chaos of the D-Day invasion never actually happened.

This is Harrison Richard Young. He logged more than 100 film and TV credits prior to his death in 2005. I found his brief role in Saving Private Ryan to be incredibly powerful.

I’ll level with you guys, when I saw that movie for the first time in the theater I struggled to keep my composure. I had only fairly recently left the military, and I missed the brotherhood and camaraderie terribly. When the old guy at the end asked his family if he had lived a good life that just touched a visceral chord. While this particular story was indeed the product of an imaginative screenwriter, reality was all the more compelling.

Closer to Home

I knew a guy who actually did this.

Mr. Roberson was a patient of mine who was assigned to the 5th Ranger Battalion during World War 2. He hit Omaha Beach in the first wave on the morning of June 6, 1944. He actually did what was depicted in the movie. Here’s his story.

It’s one thing to see extraordinary historical events depicted in movies. It is quite another to talk to someone who was actually there.

Getting to know Mr. Roberson put a human face on the film for me. He was like so many of those great old guys—quiet, humble, and awesome. The only reason I ever found out about his military service was that I inquired about some scars on his forearm. He didn’t write a book, try to monetize his time downrange, or seek attention of any sort. He just did what it took and then came home to raise a family and be a great American.

The guys who won World War 2 and freed the world from tyranny were just cut from stouter stuff than we are today.

Likewise, the real-life inspiration for the characters in the movie was even better than what we saw on the big screen. These men, all of them young and hard, were products of the Great Depression. They left the relative comfort and security of home to travel to foreign lands and, in many cases, suffer and die so that we could enjoy the freedoms we so often take for granted today.

Background

If you haven’t yet seen Saving Private Ryan, and both of you know who you are, you need to go fix that right now.

Spoiler Alert—If you haven’t seen it already, then I’m about to ruin the plot of the movie. However, if you frequent GunsAmerica and you haven’t seen Saving Private Ryan at least twice I’ll be holding onto your man-card for safekeeping until you remedy that. Stop whatever you’re doing, surf on over to Amazon, and knock it out. It’ll take you 2 hours and 49 minutes. You’ll thank me later.

Tom Hanks’ depiction of CPT John Miller captured the essence of a competent and professional combat leader.

One of the central threads in the film orbits around Tom Hanks’ character, Captain John H. Miller. CPT Miller is universally respected by his men, even when they disagree with him. As a commander, he seems to strike the perfect balance between intimacy and aloofness, something that can be tough to do in the real world. There’s really nothing he wouldn’t do for his guys, but there is also no ambiguity regarding who is ultimately in charge. Throughout the first half of the film, there is a pool going to try to guess what CPT Miller’s profession was before the war.

Captain Miller’s mysterious backstory ends up becoming a pivotal part of the narrative.

We eventually find out that John Miller was a teacher. He is married but has no children. Just like all of them, what he really wants to do is get the war over with and go home. This revelation is one of the more poignant moments in a very poignant movie.

In the movie, CPT Miller goes out heroically for a righteous cause.

Captain Miller ultimately gives his life saving Private Ryan. He and most of his men are spent defending a critical bridge that is probably in the middle of some peaceful little French village nowadays. However, that is obviously the point. Were it not for countless Allied soldiers like Mr. Roberson who were willing to fight to the death over such stuff the death camps would still be running today.

Fact is Cooler Than Fiction

This was Ralph Goranson in his early years.
CPT Ralph Goranson exemplified the Ranger ethos.

While CPT Miller is indeed one of the most compelling characters in the film, the real guy who inspired him is all the more extraordinary. Tom Hanks’ character was based on 24-year-old CPT Ralph Goranson. Born, appropriately enough, on the 4th of July, 1919, CPT Goranson was the commander of C Company, 2d Ranger Battalion. Though my friend Mr. Roberson never mentioned him by name, he would have trained alongside CPT Goranson in the leadup to Operation Overlord.

The reality of the D-Day invasion was unimaginably gruesome.

Movie vs. Reality

In the movie, the Rangers landed on the Dog-Green section of Omaha Beach. In reality, this little piece of hell mostly fell to the grunts of the 116th Infantry Regiment, 29th Infantry Division. Charlie Company, 2d Rangers actually landed a few yards west of Dog-Green on a place called Charlie Section.

This is a British LCA. It was a bit more robust than an American Higgins boat but not by much.

C Company consisted of 68 Rangers, and they didn’t actually hit the beach in Higgins Boats. They rode to war aboard British Royal Navy LCA’s (Landing Craft, Attack). These British-designed boats sported a 4-man crew and carried 37 assault troops. Unlike their American counterparts, the LCA’s featured armored bulkheads and hulls along with a modest deck over their troop wells. Of the Royal Navy crews, CPT Goranson later said they, “Beached us on time in the best place, exactly per our instructions.”

It is easy to lose the power of the D-Day narrative by fixating on the big picture.

Overlord was the largest amphibious invasion in human history. However, for all its scope and power, the real story of D-Day resides in the smaller stuff. June 6, 1944, was Ranger Sergeant Walter Geldon’s third wedding anniversary. As they approached the beach, his buddies were singing in his honor to celebrate. An hour later SGT Geldon lay dead on the sand.

LTC James Rudder led the Rangers’ assault on Pointe du Hoc.

The commander of the 2d Ranger Battalion was LTC James Rudder. His guys called themselves “Rudder’s Rangers” as a result. A month before the invasion Rudder told Goranson, “You have the toughest goddamn job on the whole beach.” He wasn’t kidding.

CPT Goranson Goes to War

Like all good combat leaders, CPT Goranson led from the front.

CPT Goranson was naturally in the first British LCA. At around 0645 the defending Germans opened up on Goranson’s boat with artillery, mortars, and small arms. Four high explosive rounds struck the LCA as it landed, killing twelve Rangers outright. Many of the rest were wounded.

The first wave of the D-Day invasion was all chaos and death.

The second LCA was led by Ranger Platoon Leader LT Sidney Salomon. LT Salomon made it off the boat safely amidst a hail of machine gun fire, but the man behind him, SGT Oliver Reed, was riddled. Salomon dragged Reed through waist-deep surf onto the shingle only to be bowled over by a nearby mortar round.

It takes some rare stuff indeed to move forward in a place like this.

Advancing into hostile fire is arguably the most unnatural of all human endeavors. Seeing his Rangers becoming bogged down at the water’s edge, 1SG Steve Golas stood up and shouted, “Get your ass off this beach!” 1SG Golas was gunned down moments later.

These guys were such studs.

Rare Men

A BAR man named T/5 Jesse Runyan was shot through the groin and paralyzed from the waist down trying to cross the 300 yards of killing ground between the water’s edge and the first available cover. Despite his injuries, Runyan dragged himself forward, firing his BAR as he went. This young stud earned the Silver Star for his actions that horrible morning.

The majority of the Rangers fell prior to reaching the top of the ridge overlooking Omaha Beach.

Another nineteen Rangers were hit near the Vierville Draw. With only thirty or so Rangers left unhurt, Captain Goranson directed his men west to a modest cliff face. His guys moved three hundred yards further west to reach the roughly 100-foot cliff face. Using their bayonets as climbing aids, the Rangers scaled the cliff and emplaced a toggle rope.

Once atop the cliff the first few Rangers immediately assaulted the German defensive works. Those first three Rangers, LT Bill Moody, SGT Julius Belcher, and PFC Otto Stephens, were likely the first three Allied troops to reach the high ground overlooking Omaha Beach. LT Moody fell to a sniper soon thereafter, but LT Salomon recovered his wits enough to rejoin the attack.

CPT Goranson led the attack on the defensive positions overlooking his landing beach.

Chaos

What followed was a chaotic back-and-forth engagement ultimately decided by small arms and hand grenades. CPT Goranson led his men along with a handful of 29th ID grunts as they assaulted the defensive works, machinegun nests, and mortar emplacements that had exacted such a horrible toll on his Rangers. For the next several hours the Rangers fought their way through the maze of trenches and prepared emplacements that the Germans had constructed over the previous months.

CPT Ralph Goranson was the archetypal citizen soldier. When his nation was in need, this man answered the call.

By 1400 in the afternoon, CPT Goranson’s Rangers had killed 69 Germans in their defensive works and were ready to move inland. Goranson formed a combat patrol and pressed forward to Pointe-de-la-Percee. Later that afternoon they transitioned to Pointe du Hoc to link up with the surviving Rangers there.

General George Patton was unique in American military history. He’d never make it past Captain today.

According to Mr. Roberson, after pushing through the Bocage country in Normandy his unit subsequently went to work as a reconnaissance element for General Patton’s 3d Army. He met Patton twice himself and told me that the General’s voice had a peculiar high-pitched tone that seemed incongruous. He subsequently fought in both the Hurtgen Forest and the Battle of the Bulge.

One of the first things Ralph Goranson did after returning from World War 2 was get married. He and his wife Ruth remained together until her death in 2002.
This is the face of a true American hero.

Unlike CPT Miller in the movie, CPT Goranson actually survived the war. He later told some of his fellow Rangers, “Here’s one for Ripley. I found nine slugs and bullet holes in my gear and clothing. I didn’t get a scratch, yet so many around us have died.” He came home to Illinois to marry his sweetheart Ruth and enjoy a long, rich life, ultimately dying peacefully on November 14, 2012, at 93 years old. CPT Ralph Goranson was one of the finest Americans ever to salute the flag.

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What a STUD !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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The .44 Special – A Reappraisal by Charles A. Skelton

Note: This was one of Skeeters early articles for Shooting Times and he had not starting using his nickname of “Skeeter” in his byline.

In the uncomplicated days before the Great Misunderstanding of December 7, 1941, no one I knew had a .44 Special because no one I new could afford to by a gun. Although plenty of Smith & Wesson’s New Century (Triplelock), 1917 Hand Ejector, and 1926 Military models must have been around somewhere, I couldn’t find ’em.

Handgunnery in my Dust Bowl social circle was carried on with creaky old Colt single actions and modestly priced Iver Johnson Owlheads in .32 caliber . Forward-thinking pistoleros, a lot of them Texas Rangers, favored 1911 Colt .45 autos – mostly marked “United States Property,” relics of the Argonne Forest or some such.

Colt catalogs of the period mentioned that New Service, New Service Target, and Single Action Army models were in the .44 Special dimension, but the only ones I ever located reposed in the displays of affluent postwar collectors.

It was a situation to drive a man to the jug, and the inflated prices of a gunless, wartime market did nothing to help. Every year or two, if you were lucky, you might glimpse a classified ad offering a .44 Special revolver, at prices that would bankrupt a bricklayer. The postwar boom helped little. Years went by before any gunmaker got around to dishing up a good forty-four.

Through this whole mess, my appetites were honed by a dedicated group of individualists who called themselves “The .44 Associates.” At the time I thought these aficionados of the .44 Special rather smug. They already had their guns, and interchanged loading information and jokes about .357 shooters in a regular newsletter. My simmering envy of the .44 Associates was finally boiled over by the excellent magazine articles of Gordon Boser and the flamboyant Elmer Keith.

I sold my .38 Special. I sold my saddle. I cashed in my War Bonds and quit smoking. With bulging pockets, I walked to Polley’s Gunshop in Amarillo and paid my friend, Tex Crossett, $125 for a clean, tight .38-40 Colt single action. This was in the late ‘forties, and the thumbusters’ prices were still held high by the Colt factory’s refusal to tool up and produce them for their postwar fans.

Trying not to think of my stripped bank account, I shipped the old Colt to Christy Gun Works, who installed a matched .44 Special barrel and cylinder of their own manufacture. California’s old King Gunsight Company added a lowslung adjustable rear sight and a mirrored, beaded,  ramp front. Somebody else did me a trigger job, and bright blued the whole package. Panting for breath, I plunked down 20 bucks for a pair of one-piece ivory grips, $20 more for bullet molds, sizers, and loading dies, and started a charge account to get empty cases. It had taken ten years, but I had my .44 Special.

Any handgunner who got his start less than ten years ago may well wonder what all the fretting was about. The .44 Magnum completes its first decade this year. A longer, stronger version of the .44 Special, it eclipses the performance of the Special even more than that cartridge overshadowed its own father, the .44 Russian. All fire bullets of the same diameter, of approximately  the same weight, and revolvers of the newer calibrations will efficiently handle the older factory loadings.

The .44 S. & W. Special is simply a longer version of the .44 Russian, throwing the same bullet at the same velocity. It is inherently more accurate than any other pistol cartridge that I have fired, as loaded by the ammunition factories. This trait can be improved upon by handloading. Therein lies its fascination.

As a defense or hunting load, the factory .44 Special is on a par with the .45 ACP and the .38 Special – both notoriously poor performers. Commercial cartridges in .45 Colt, .44-40, .38-40, and .357 Magnum far outshine the leisurely moving, roundnosed .44, which for generations has maintained its staid, 760 fps pace. But put a bullet of the right configuration over a .44 Special case, crackling with enough of the right, slow burning powder, and its superiority to any of the above-named killers is so apparent as to make comparison a waste of time.

The .357 Magnum, with much justification, has enjoyed a heyday since 1935. Smith & Wesson’s advertising for this revolver used to proclaim, “The S & W ‘.357’ Magnum Has Far Greater Shock Power Than Any .38, .44, or .45 Ever Tested.” With factory loads, this was true. Handloaded, the .44 Special made the .357 – also handloaded to peak performance – eat dust. It was the case of a good big man beating hell out of a good little man.

Basic mathematics made it obvious to experimenters that if the .44 Special were loaded up to its maximum velocity – generally accepted as 1,200 fps at the muzzle with 250-grain bullets – it could skunk the 158-grain .357 slug at 1,500 fps.

Topped with cast bullets in Hollow-point form, both the .357 and .44 Special handloads ran several times higher than their closest competitors on General Julian Hatcher’s scale of relative stopping power. Significantly, the .44 had almost double the stopping effect of the .357 when this scale was applied, in spite of its moving at 300 less velocity.

Homebrewed work loads for my .44 were originally based on the excellent Lyman 429244 cast bullet, in both solid and hollowpoint form. For me, this was a natural choice of bullets after having found the .357 version of the same design – 358156 – to be an extremely accurate one in my guns of that caliber, and to shoot at maximum velocities without leading.

My gorgeous custom Colt ate up many hundreds of heavy loads with this bullet before I realized that the gascheck, so necessary to prevent leading in hot .357 loads, served no good purpose in the .44 Special. Lyman 429421 molds, throwing the well-known Keith Semiwadcutter bullets in both solid and hollowpoint forms, were acquired. The Keith Bullet, cast in a 1 in 15 tin-to-lead mixture, gives minimal leading problems in the .44 Special, and is fully as accurate as the gaschecked 429244 when care is taken in casting.

Some critics of the 429244 say that this gascheck bullet, designed by Ray Thompson, can’t be as accurate as a plain base bullet because the copper cup at its bottom prevents it from slugging out and forming a gas seal in the barrel. This, the detractors claim, allows hot gases to squeeze by the bearing surfaces of the slug, misshaping it and prematurely eroding the bore of the revolver. I have not found this to be so, and heartily recommend the gascheck version to everyone who is willing to go the extra trouble nad expense necessary to produce it. Because of the perfect bullet bases provided by the preshaped gaschecks, the Thompson guarantees accuracy, and I Supect still slugs out to form as good a gas seal as any plain base bullet.

I chose the Keith design because I found it possible, through careful casting, to produce bullets that would perform as well without the necessity of fiddling with the little copper cups.

Solid or hollowpoint, these forty-fours are deadly, and can’t be bettered as manstoppers by any cartridge other than the .44 and .41 magnums, equally properly loaded. My heavy load for police work or big game shooting is an easy one to put together. Size either the Thompson or Keith bullet to .429″ for Smith & Wesson or Ruger guns, .427″ for Colts. Seat this bullet over 17½ grains of Hercules 2400 powder and cap with CCI Magnum  primers. If you can shoot a pistol, this load will arm you better than you would be with a 30-30 rifle.

This is a maximum load, and it is unlikely that it will be employed exclusively by men who shoot a great deal. For an intermediate cartridge of around 1,000 fps, 8½ grains of Unique serves well, and outperforms most factory pistol cartridges of any caliber. Charges of 6½ grains of 5066 or 5 grains of Bullseye with either the Lyman 429244 or 429421 bullets will give fine, about-factory-velocity, performance.

For normal to medium-heavy charges, almost any pistol, shotgun, or fast rifle powder may be used for the .44 Special. The Alcan and Red Dot Shotgun powders give singular performance, as well as such slow burners as Du Pont’s IMR4227. A comprehensive list of un-tempermental .44 loads will fill books.

The .44 Special is versatile. Although recommended by some of the more magnum-minded as being a fine deliverer of such small table game as cottontails, squirrels, and grouse, it is a bit severe on these edibles when loaded with full or semiwadcutter bullets, usually leaving a great deal of good meat mangled or bloodshot. Lyman, as well as other mold makers, offers several roundnosed bullet styles and weights that penetrate your entree with no more damage than a .38 Special

If making your own bullets holds no appeal, excellent commercial ones are available. The 240-grain Norma, jacketed in mild steel under a soft nose, serves well as an all-around number, although it doesn’t expand spectacularly at lower velocities. The various swaged bullets, with copper base cups covering their pure lead cores, are very good. Speer Bullets, among many others, merchandise an excellent .44 Semi-wadcutter. And don’t forget the super accurate factory load’s usefulness for small game. The cheapest cases for reloading can be obtained by fireing these loads that shoot so pleasantly.

I’m a little saddened by the fate of the .44 Special sixguns. My first custom Colt cost almost $200 just a few years ago. Acceding the rule of supply and demand, it was worth the price in terms of enjoyment and education. Smith & Wesson finally got some of their 1950 Target Models on dealer’s shelves in 1954.

I bought one of the first, and immediately returned it to the factory to have its 6½” barrel cut to 5″ and a ramp front sight installed. The factory later offered these revolvers with 4″ barrels and ramp sights on special order, and they were a superb law enforcement weapon, selling at a discount to police officers. Hunter who knew handloading grabbed eagerly for these target-quality revolvers and recorded many big-game kills, form deer to Alaskan brown bear.

Scarcely two years of readily available .44 Specials were enjoyed by those who wanted them before the .44 Magnum was foaled in 1956. There can be no argument the the Big One did in all others who vied for top berth in the power department.

Remington’s sensational 240-grain lead bullet at 1500 fps gave even the most power-mad pistolero more than he bargained for. Whimpers were heard from effete shooters who allowed that shooting the .44 Magnum compared to the sensation of burning bamboo splinters being driven into the palm.

While touching off the Magnum is far from being that rough, it is true that few want to shoot a steady diet of full charge loads in it. It results in .44 Magnum shooters loading their big guns down to more palatable levels. A favorite “heavy” cartridge for .44 Magnum devotees is comprised of the Keith or Thompson bullet over 18 grains of Hercules 2400, although the acceptable maximum with these balls is 23 grains. This about duplicates the old, proven .44 Special handloads, and is, in truth, adequate for about any situation a six-shooter man may face.

Hearkening to their siren cry I bought every variation of the .44 Magnum that was commercially produced. In the process I rid myself of all my fine, proven .44 Special guns. Sheriff of a Texas County, I felt the need of a powerful holster gun, and dallied with the S & W .44 Magnum in 4″ length.

With factory Magnum or full-powered handloads, its recoil was so pronounced (although not painful) as to make it a poor choice for strings of double action shots in combat situations. Loading it down rendered it no more potent than a .44 Special, and I soon traded it for one. Along with others, I hounded Smith & Wesson for a .41 Magnum, whose two factory loadings would bracket the needs of police officers who did not handload. Since introduction of this revolver in 1964, it has been the best choice for that purpose.

The .44 Magnum is odds-on the selection as a hunting handgun. Because that is what it is, there is small reason to ever load anything but heavy loads for it, and so is my Ruger loaded.

So now the fallen knight, the one-time expensive glamour boy can come out of hiding. Forty-four Specials dirt cheap, with used 1950 Military Smith & Wessons and rebuilt Colt New Service and Single Action Armies going for 50 to 60 bucks. Smith still makes their 1950 Target Models, but rumor has it they may stop. This will leave only the horse-and-buggy Colt single action available in that caliber, if you crave a brand new gun.

Cops need sidearms that will use powerful, store-bought ammunition, and thus should stick with the .357 and .41 Magnums. The everyday man who bolsters a handgun for come-what-may eventualities cannot improve on a .44 Special revolver.

If he owned a higher-priced .44 magnum, he would likely load it down to Special capabilities. With factory ammunition, the Special shoots as accurately as any revolver yet made. Although capable of taking any game that the Magnums can, the old .44 carries half the price of its Magnum “betters.”

A big, holstered sixgun is no longer part of my work, but when I get the chance, I roam in the brush country where a rattler, a whitetail buck, or a javelina might join me at any moment. I have a .44 Magnum, but my .44 Special seems more relaxed – and prettier. Buying a Colt New Frontier Model, with its beautiful blue and old style, mottled, casehardened colors took me back 15 years.

A lot of money is being spent by romantic types who want a big pistol and a little, lever action saddle carbine chambered for the same round. The general approach toward satisfying this craving is to have a Model 92 Winchester .44-40 rebarreled to handle .44 Magnum cartridges. This is expensive and results in a rifle very little more effective than it would have been with hot .44-40 loads. Further, the straight cases of the Magnum rounds often cause exasperating feeding problems in these little actions.

My solution is simpler – change the revolver instead of the rifle. Digging around in my bag of tricks, I fished out an old, but solid, .44-40 cylinder from a forgotten Colt single action. It slipped readily into battery in my sleek New Frontier Model, indexed crisply, and locked up tight. Groups fired with factory .44-40 ammo are adequately tight, opening up another career for my Frontier.

This finely fitted single action suits me well, and is the epitome of the forty-fours I dreamed of for fruitless years. At $150, it seems at first of little overpriced. But then – I once spent more.

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