First white tail deer, a long time ago

Thought I would share the story of my first deer, a long time ago, 1967. I had been hunting small game with dad since I was six and he had taken me along on some deer hunts since then teaching me to be quiet, still and when necessary to move to do it slowly, along with other skills. I was 9 years old on my first deer hunt and dad had taken me to the range numerous times to practice with the M1 carbine I would be using. Please no flames for this round being inadequate and a poor choice, there is a back story to come later. Confident in my marksmanship and woodsman-ship dad decided I was ready. I was the afternoon of opening day and dad located a deer trail coming into a small clearing at the bottom of a hill. He constructed a ground blind at the edge of the clearing where he could lean back against a tree with me sitting in front of him. It was not long (seemed like longer at the time) before a fork horn buck came down the trail. He was facing toward us at 25 yards or so and dad whispered to aim at the white spot on his neck. I took aim and fired, the deer dropped on the spot. My dad found the deer had been struck in the head not the neck. Being a fidgety 9 year old I had apparently slid the rear sight up and it was no longer at the 100 yard setting where it should have been. To this day I still don't remember moving the sight. Dad took me on some more hunts that season but had me use his rifle, a Remington model 725 in .280 which he also had me practice with. Christmas of that year I received a new Remington model 700 in .243. Now for the back story. My dad was drafted for WW2 and served in the European theater, having landed on Omaha beach on D day. During the war they supplemented their rations when they could. Later in the war dad shot his first head of big game with an M1 carbine. Never got around to asking dad if my using the M1 carbine for my first was for reasons of nostalgia but I think it may have been. Going to have to ask him when we are reunited in heaven. BTW still have the M1 carbine, .243 and dad's .280.

Good story.

M1 carbines are a real favorite in the Louisiana swamps.
At least they were before everyone knew they had to have the latest and greatest magnum for those 50 yard shots.

The first deer I killed was right after I got out of the Service early in December of 1980.
My Mom had recently inherited a big chunk of the ranch in the Hill Country where she grew up.
She wanted me to go hunting that season and for a early Christmas present, took me down to the gun store.
We walked out with a new Rem700 in .270 and a Bushnell scope.

I got it sighted in and off I went. I killed a spike with a head shot at 75 yards.
Then it was like a dog chasing a car. I didn't know what to do with it after I caught it.
So I took it to my favorite uncle down there, and he walked me through the field dressing process.

He always hung them head down. As I fumbled my way through the process, he told me,
"I could do this faster, but you wouldn't learn nearly as much".

When I was almost done, and all the innards were hanging out, but still attached---- up at the far end of the large intestine..........
I looked at him with a 'Ahhh,,, what's next' expression.

With a straight face, he said,
"Lift its tail, stick your finger in there, and cut around it. Even you're smart enough not to cut your own finger".

I have no idea how long he had waited to lay that one on one of us city kid nephews.....

Great story.

Great story, the M1 Carine is a formidable weapon; it's dispatched many an enemy combatant in the right hands. I have my father-in-laws .30 cal that he bought during the Watts riots , it sat in his closet for most of its life.

I unfortunately never got to experience a harvest with my dad even though I did get to spend several hunts with him; by the time I got back to see him after my time on active duty, he was done with hunting large game. I did get my first deer with my Daughter though; a blistering -3deg day in the north woods. She was so cold that she curled up like a orange ball on a stick in the tree; rifle hanging above her. We saw a doe step out but she couldn't get to it quick enough. Out in the distance we could see another, beyond her reach so we decided I would take this shot. I let her track it the 30 yards or so into the woods and High fived/hugged when she found it. I offered to take her back out for a second chance but she was cold and had enough; she has sat out ever sense. In truth I believe she only went with me because of the lose of my next youngest son who passed just months before; and for that it made it extra special. Several years and many deer later I got a chance with my youngest (caboose kid), she and I received a deer hunt at a game farm in WI. The owner worked with her and I to take nice dry doe (perfect first deer for an 8yr. old); Helen got to experience a warm comfortable hunt with no pressure. It was still a lot of fun, maybe she will stay interested in it as time goes on.

Merry Christmas