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I would love a thread called "stories of '44". I look forward to everyone of your posts. Keep them coming.

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Second that motion.

What was this thread about again? I got sidetracked after reading about 44's Luger aquisition....

Brings back memories of stories My Grandpa used to tell me about except he was on across the other ocean.. My other Grandpa was a BTG and never ever spoke about the battles he was in... After growing up and learning more about what he actually did for our country I can see why...

God Bless you 44!

Doesn't ring a bell. But might have met him.

Don't remember meeting this gentleman.

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I broke my own leg with my truck once.

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Story time...

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The rear u-joint in my truck was going bad, so one Sunday afternoon I decide it's time to swap it out before I end up with a drive shaft on the ground driving down 59. No big deal, I've done this more than once - so I crawl under my truck and proceed to unbolt the yoke and pop the drive shaft free from the rear differential.

I should have known something was not right when it took a great deal of force to pop the shaft out of the yoke. But no, that red flag was ignored. I went and got a bigger screwdriver to give me more leverage. Again, red flags and blaring sirens, along with a chorus of "you are a a dumbass!" was completely ignored.

I finally pop the shaft out of the yoke, and - quite shockingly I might add - without the transmission park gear keeping my truck from moving, it starts rolling. (Obviously I had neglected basic safety, such as parking break, wheel chocks, etc. like a complete and utter dipsheet). With me under it. Not good. I thought for a second about trying to shoot out the side, but was worried about getting run over by my front tire, so I ended up acting like a squirrel and kind of just freezing in place. At least I had enough good sense to lay flat, not completely freak out and let the truck roll over me. The front differential barely misses my head, but I still get caught by the front axle, so I roll along with the truck as its rolling down the driveway. At some point, my right leg gets caught up in the steering linkage - broken in 2 places, lost about 2 square feet of skin, scared the ever living sheet out of me, etc.

Luckily my parent's neighbor (was at their house in between moves from AZ back to TX at the time) was outside working in her yard and heard my scream for help once I realized that I wasn't dead. Got to spend the rest of the day and most of the night at Hermann hospital in Houston, and there nearly got killed by a morphine OD by the nursing staff.

It was lots of fun. And I still have to get mentally prepared to crawl under a vehicle (or anything that moves for that matter) to this day.

All because I started a task with way more on my mind that just the task and failed miserably to even implement the most basic of safety measures.

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I have a customer that was recently(by himself) backing up to a trailer. He decided to get out to check his alignment. He put the truck in park and exited in one motion. Next he tripped on the automatic running boards and accidentally put the truck in reverse. Once again, all in one motion. He spent the next 3.5 hours with the front tire on top of his leg wondering what life was going to be like with a prosthetic. Phone was mocking him by ringing frequently up in his drink holder. Neighbor finally got home and after a week in the hospital they were able to fix everything.

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In 6th grade while being derelicts I climbed an enormously tall tower. Half way up I had an emergency deuce dropping attack. So way up there I unloaded a foot of soft ice cream. As I turned to look at it falling end over end I could see my older brother standing in a very bad location. After splash-down I got beat up pretty bad.

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that's awesome actually

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In 6th grade while being derelicts I climbed an enormously tall tower. Half way up I had an emergency deuce dropping attack. So way up there I unloaded a foot of soft ice cream. As I turned to look at it falling end over end I could see my older brother standing in a very bad location. After splash-down I got beat up pretty bad.

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Embarrassing? Ha... I WISH I had a story like that!

Here is agge1944's other epic thread domination answering the question "Whats the coolest thing you have ever shot and with what?":

http://texags.com/forums/34/topics/1841575/replies/26882339

A) When I was at A&M I competed in powerlifting and strongman, and in strongman for several years more.

B) Eventually, I tanked my knee with an Atlas stone - dumb, but not as dumb as...

It's drizzly, and I'm back home visiting the folks from law school. They have become very fond of garage sales, and there is now a commercial meat band saw in the back of my pick up, which I decide to unload by myself, while wearing my old, won completely slick, camp shoes.

I climb up in the bed, grab the saw, and promptly fall on my butt, but manage to slow the saw down, and keep it upright...

In the process, hooking my leg, cutting it to the bone, and scraping my femoral.

I look down, say, "Damn, I'm going to need stitches," and blood starts going everywhere. Between sports and being a farm boy, I've bled some before but I'm losing pints, and I have all my clean laundry in the back of the cab.

I grab a towel, twist it up around my leg, and start trying to figure if I shoul drive straight to the hospital myself, or go get my folks.

Decide it would be too complicated to keep pressure and get the gate open, and that things might go poorly if I pass out as the towel is starting to soak, my shoe's full of blood, and the ground is getting a bit gory as well.

I hobble over to the house, trying to think of how to get Dad's attention, without telling Mom what happened - and I don't want to go inside, because I don't want to make a mess in the house (not a great day for thinking, on my part.)

Dad's in the shower, apparently, so he couldn't hear me, I'm still leaving a puddle, through the bath towel, and at some point, I start yelling, "Dad, Blood!..." Of course, he still can hear, but now Mom does, sees me, get panicky, and Dad's still in the shower and Mom's in no state to be of help.

Eventually Dad notices there's quite a bit of yelling going on, and we head to the hospital - and I think I should ride in the back so I don't stain the interior of Mom's truck, but get told to stay in front. (I'm not normally a particularly tidy person, no idea where that was coming from.)

We get to the ER, full of gold brickers, trying to avoid work Monday morning - I'm still leaving a bit of a trail, but the bleeding has slowed, the charge nurses tell me I'm welcome to a wheel chair but I have to wait in-line behind the drunkards holding their stomachs, etc.

Eventually I get seen, the doc pokes around for quite a bit, trying to figure out how the saw dragged down my femoral and the bone behind it, but didn't puncture the femoral, and the PA gets told to stitch me up. I'm sitting up, asking him questions about which bits are which, and he eventually mentions it's making him uncomfortable and would I mind not sitting up and watching him stitch my leg up.

I asked how many stitches, he said no idea but he went through 7 packs of needle and thread.

Best thing was I left my insurance card at home, so I only got billed $265.

Oh, and once they started stitching, Dad started giving me hell about remembering that I'm now a "former strongman," and walked over to have breakfast w his buddies.

TheEyeGuy said:

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Dated a stripper.

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Go on

aggie1944 said:

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Can't speak for myself. However saw a magazine fall right out of a luger when a Nazi tried to fire it. I still have his pistol.

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I would watch a movie based on this post.

I was shooting at our range in the backyard. I was alternating between my .40 and 9mm with both boxes of ammo open on the back of the mule. When shooting the .40 my first round didn't eject and was stuck in the barrel. Got it out and tried again. Same damn thing. After closer inspection I realized I had been loading 9mm in my .40 and the casing was expanding.

I have never been so upset/mad/embarrassed for myself with such a lapse in gun safety. I feel lucky I was shooting with a well made gun. Still pissed at myself for doing something so stupid.

aggie1944 said:

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Can't speak for myself. However saw a magazine fall right out of a luger when a Nazi tried to fire it. I still have his pistol.

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Miss 44'. Pretty sure his son posted a pic of said Luger here:


https://texags.com/forums/5/topics/2924074/1#discussion