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In November 1980 I had just completed The Basic School, as a new 2ndLt in the Marine Corps, at Quantico, Va. While awaiting orders to Pensacola flight school, my company commander, who had befriended me, suggested we take advantage of the muzzle loading deer season which was just a few days away. I gladly accepted and we went to the woods to sight in our rifles. Mine was a .50 Cal CVA Hawken I had put together from a kit, and which I still have. After sighting our rifles (I used 100 grains of FFg behind a .50 cal round ball,) we then departed to scout the area we had drawn, on base, for the next morning's opening day. The Major dropped me off on a dirt rode that paralleled a creek bottom. I picked out a tree, with low limbs I could easily climb, that provided a excellent perch that overlooked the creek bottom. It looked very "deery," if you know what I mean. I marked my trail back to the road with some ribbon, and the next morning the Major dropped me off at zero dark thirty. I used my USMC issue flashlight with a red lense to follow my Hansel and Gretel trail of "bread crumbs" back to my tree stand. I loaded my rifle, (without a cap,) then tied a rope around it, in order to lift it up once I had found my perch. By the time I got settled, first light began to break. It was a crisp, clear morning, and I shivered a bit as I put a cap on the nipple, and half cocked the hammer.

Morning finally broke and the creek bottom began to sparkle from the sunlight striking the fallen leaves. Just then I noticed some movement to my left, in my peripheral vision. I slowly moved my head to the left and there was a large bodied buck sauntering slowly along, about 30 yards away, moving left to right. I slowly cocked my hammer, making sure not to make a noise, then set the trigger. The slight click of the set trigger caused the buck to stop and look in my direction.. I froze. My rifle was laying across my lap. The buck began moving again with his nose to the ground. I slowly began to raise my rifle to my shoulder, and when the grey ghost moved directly in front of me and stepped out from behind a tree, I lined up my sights and followed his movement. Once I was lined up on his right shoulder I began to press on the trigger, utilizing the BRASS concept, the Marine Corps emphasized.

The rifle exploded with a sharp retort in the silent woods. A large white cloud of smoke blocked my view as I looked up to see if I had hit my mark. The buck had dropped in his tracks. .50 cal round ball did it's work, again. I had a grin from ear to ear.

After I finished gutting my deer, I dragged him up to the roadway. Shortly thereafter, the Major pulled up in his Jeep. He congratulated me on killing my beautiful 6-pointer less than an hour after dropping me off. He said he heard my shot, and was hoping I had scored. We mounted the deer on the top of his spare tire, and drove it in to the check station. He was bragging about the deer to anyone who would listen. Seemed he was enjoying my success as much as I was.

I'll never forget that hunt.