I've always wanted a true Nazi Mauser, but I kinda missed the window of opportunity on the price. Hell, they've gotten expensive, and I'm awful tight, (broke). So a couple years ago, when this doofus boyfriend of a gal I work with came to me trying to sell his grand dad's bring back relic, (honest to God
) I told him he oughta keep it, and anyway, the most that me or anyone else would probably give him would be a couple hundred bucks. Problem was, the stock had been duffle cut, giving it this amputated look.
He wanted about twice that much, but I said no way, and figured that was that. BUT -- the guy calls me back later, and says "I'll take your $200." I'm thinkin, I don't think I actualy offered it, but what the heck. Gave the money to his chick, she gave me the gun, and that's how this whole thing started.
Got it home, and wasn't too impressed. It was pretty rusty and krusty, and the safety was non functional, AND - the poor stock was amputated. Up side was, the #s all matched, and it was original, no import stamp, non-refurb or Russian capture. I started cleaning and learning. Here's what it looked like after clean-up. (first range trip)
And here's how it shot that day. (hundred yards, my own reloads)
It had cleaned up pretty good, no mechanical problems, bore was kinda ugly, but hey--
Thing is, and I'll bet that I'm not the only one this has happened to, after working on this rifle, cleaning, fondling, and well, I was hooked. Might be Nazi demons or whatever, but it was now mine. (or maybe vice versa)
First gun show I went to, I acquired dies, brass, bullets, and started lookin for a new stock, or better yet a busted one of the same type that I could rob the forend off of for the repair that it needed. I soon found that the stock was gonna be a tough one. They are gettable, but expensive, (did I mention I'm tight). I couldn't just use it the way it was, so I fixed this forend cap, using a method that I could splice a new forend to if I ever found one.
Well, I started enjoying being a Mauser owner, shooter, cast bullets for it, and it's a real 200 yard gong banger. BUT!!-- This isn't where the story ends. Stay tuned for Chapter Two, where one of our good friends with the name of (I think) a Mexican burro, steps up and saves my rifle from the shameful disfigurement that I couldn't seem to fix. jd