You'll be surprised and dismayed that my Fiddy was lost in a tragic boating accident, but through tears of loss I remember seeing my first .50 cartridge. It was in Milwaukee and I was maybe 7; there we were at a party in the next door neighbor's house.
The boys who lived there had just got back from Vietnam and I remember one of them showing me a cartridge case, we were by the kitchen sink. "What's that?" I asked, being 7 and curious, he replied, "That's a Fifty and it'd go right through this sink, through the wall of this house, through the wall of your house and out the other side."
This, gentle readers, has stayed with me for something like half a century.
Arma Virumque Cano,
LSP
