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You could let jam dry in a Beretta and it wouldn't jam.

(Copied and pasted from an old thread here:)

"I have a strange quirk that has happened to me several times in my life. I am of the habit of getting my "bathroom business" done first thing every morning. Well, getting up very early to hunt ducks sometimes interrupts the flow of things, shall we say. More than once I have been all trussed up in chest waders, standing in the water in the pre-dawn, only to have the "urge" hit me hard. If I try to ignore it, or restrain it, I eventually get faint.

Eight of us had put the boats in at the landing at Bayou Meto, AR, at 4:30 a.m., motored aways down the canal, drug the boats another several hundred yards to our hole, and had just begun killing ducks. Then, that old familiar feeling hit me. I knew I had to "go" somewhere, but where? There was no land that wasn't under two feet of water within 1/4 mile. I suppressed it, that faint feeling started, and I headed for the boat, thinking I would just have to soil the boat and incur the wrath of several of my buddies. Before I got to the boat I passed out, my Beretta 390 went down into the mud, submerged. The icy water woke me back up quickly, and I continued to the boat. Getting there I found a few old rags, and was about to climb in to do the dirty deed when I spied a huge root wad, we call 'em "harrikins", of a blown down oak. I climbed up on it, happy as could be, and called out to my buds to not look that way unless they wanted to be deeply offended. I looked like a rooster perched up there for a few minutes. Afterwards, I poured the mud and water out of my gun. The action had frozen shut and I had quite a time getting it open. Barrel was clear, so I reloaded it, waded back over to the hole and killed a limit of ducks. That 390 never missed a lick, ejecting and feeding perfectly, great testimony to that design.

I hope my buddies have been able to put that picture of me perched up on top of that root wad out of their minds, 'cause some of them just couldn't resist looking and laughing."

SRH

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Rehash from the current 28 gauge thread, Gamage London 2 1/2" 28, reproofed for 5/8th oz Nitro in the fifties. Loving this little 4 1/2# wand!

Hi all, went out today after work for a couple hours with my 15 year old daughter Teresa. I managed two and Teresa got her first pheasant! One proud papa, she got it with one shot over a nice point by Raina. Looks like I have a new hunting partner.

I was using my 16ga Garbi 100



Teresa and her first Rooster, she was using a 20ga Condor O/U



The birds, the daughter and Raina



Best!

Greg

James, aka canvasback, getting ready to embark on his first Nebraska Sandhills adventure:


Hopefully more pics to come over the next three days.

Mike

This has to be my favorite thread

Just want to be clear. That's not my dog.

Not my gun either. Problem getting my form 6NIA form approved so Mike (Wingshooter) kindly lent me his Ideal 314 16 gauge. What a lovely gun! Thanks Mike!

agreed

James,
Well, it seems clear to me, at any rate, that the wall along the border needs to be ten feet or so higher. Darned Kanucks keep getting across, and never bring me any LaBatts.
Take as many sandhills as you want back across with you.

Best,
Ted

Look at her big smile she certainly does look happy Greg!!!

Greg, it's always great to see photos of your children's sucesses. What a smile!
James, I wish my emergency back up gun was a 16 Ideal.
And by the way, you stole the line "that's not my dog" from Peter Seller's The Pink Panther.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=SXn2QVipK2o
Have a great time in the Sandhills with Mike. Gil