My Father's Gun

This is my father's gun.  It is Nazi issue Star Model B.  It was made in Spain, probably in 1943.  Soon thereafter, it was issued to a German soldier. Sometime after that it was taken from that German soldier and my father acquired it.

During the war, it was a handy gun.   Dad had little patience with pansy ass, chickenshit rules but also didn't seek out unnecessary confrontation.  This pistol looked so much like a government issue Colt 1911 that nobody would question a soldier carrying it, unlike the flashier and more valuable Luger or P-38 which would raise questions from chickenshit rear echelon officers that were uncomfortable with enlisted soldiers carrying "unauthorized" sidearms.  It fired easily accessible German issue ammunition which was lying around in piles everywhere, so there was no need to ask anyone for ammo for it. It was the perfect weapon for my father in a difficult time.

"Somehow,"  the old gun made it back to United States.  I grew up with that gun in the house.  It wasn't locked up or secured in any way.  I just knew that if I touched it, there would be hell to pay.  That was the way of things in that era.  Back then, you could spank a kid who did something stupid and Dad certainly wasn't afraid to do that.  He taught me to respect him and his rules.  Most people kept guns in the house. You had to.  The nearest policeman was over an hour away and it was a tough, tough neighborhood.

The gun was never far from him.  It was either in the bedroom or in the glove compartment of whatever vehicle he was driving.  It was one of several guns in the house.  There were strict rules about which guns I could use and which I couldn't.  But, by the time I was twelve or so, if I wanted to go hunting or carry a long gun when I walked out to check on the cattle, no permission was necessary. But, the pistol remained off limits.

When dad died, his pistol went home with me.  Mom was afraid of it, never understood it and didn't like it around her.  She was unable to understand that that old gun may well have helped Dad stay alive to marry her and make me.  And, it certainly protected us and our home well while I was growing up.  Since 1978, it has done the same job in our home.

Seventy years after it was handed to that German soldier, this gun is still doing its job. It has some surface wear but otherwise fires perfectly.  It is still a remarkably accurate and sweet firing old pistol.  This gun was made by evil people to advance an evil purpose.  But, evil was overcome by good and in the end the gun had and continues to have an honorable career protecting the lives and property of honest people.

According to Lt.Col. Dave Grossman, a former psychology professor at West Point, there are three types of men in the world.  There are sheep, sheepdogs, and wolves.  He explains it this way:

"Most of the people in our society are sheep. They are kind, gentle, productive creatures who can only hurt one another by accident."  ....I mean nothing negative by calling them sheep. To me it is like the pretty, blue robin's egg. Inside it is soft and gooey but someday it will grow into something wonderful. But the egg cannot survive without its hard blue shell. Police officers, soldiers, and other warriors are like that shell, and someday the civilization they protect will grow into something wonderful.? For now, though, they need warriors to protect them from the predators.

"Then there are the wolves," the old war veteran said, "and the wolves feed on the sheep without mercy." Do you believe there are wolves out there who will feed on the flock without mercy? You better believe it. There are evil men in this world and they are capable of evil deeds. The moment you forget that or pretend it is not so, you become a sheep. There is no safety in denial.

"Then there are sheepdogs," he went on, "and I'm a sheepdog. I live to protect the flock and confront the wolf."  ...  

Let me expand on this old soldier's excellent model of the sheep, wolves, and sheepdogs. We know that the sheep live in denial, that is what makes them sheep. They do not want to believe that there is evil in the world. They can accept the fact that fires can happen, which is why they want fire extinguishers, fire sprinklers, fire alarms and fire exits throughout their kids' schools.

But many of them are outraged at the idea of putting an armed police officer in their kid's school. Our children are thousands of times more likely to be killed or seriously injured by school violence than fire, but the sheep's only response to the possibility of violence is denial. The idea of someone coming to kill or harm their child is just too hard, and so they chose the path of denial.

The sheep generally do not like the sheepdog. He looks a lot like the wolf. He has fangs and the capacity for violence. The difference, though, is that the sheepdog must not, can not and will not ever harm the sheep. Any sheep dog who intentionally harms the lowliest little lamb will be punished and removed. The world cannot work any other way, at least not in a representative democracy or a republic such as ours.

Still, the sheepdog disturbs the sheep. ... The sheep would much rather have the sheepdog cash in his fangs, spray paint himself white, and go, "Baa."  Until the wolf shows up. Then the entire flock tries desperately to hide behind one lonely sheepdog.

Every man who is a man realizes that he has a sacred duty to be the sheepdog for his family. My father's gun is a constant reminder of that inherited duty.