In the 1980s, I was shooting competition at a state range in Rhode Island. A friend of mine asked me to join the high power rifle team he was putting together. I needed a rifle, and he had an M1 Garand he wanted to sell that had been re-barreled to .308 Win. I wanted the M1 because it had the same feel and sights as the M14 I had in the Army during Vietnam—except the M14 rifle had a selector switch, which, when on full automatic, meant I had to fire from the hip. I took the M1 and had it glass-bedded. Competition was off-hand, sitting and prone at 200 yards and slow-fire prone at 300 yards.
I continued to compete for the next couple of decades in individual competition with different clubs. Recently, I decided to refurbish my rifle after all these years. I had a new stock put on it, had it glass-bedded (again) and a gunsmith replaced all the worn parts and springs including the gas cylinder. When I take it to the range, it functions perfectly.
One of the handgun shooters asked me why I liked the M1 so much. I told him my mind goes back to all those hot summer days during competition when my relay was called forward. It is not just a rifle—I feel like it is my buddy. If I did my part, the rifle never failed me.
—Robert Darling
Read the full article here