The author wonders how many pests and varmints this old barn gun has accounted for.
My father-in-law, Harry Leonard, lived his first 96 years in his old rural home within a half mile of where he was born. When the day finally came for him to move into assisted living, he looked at me and said, “There’s a single shot .22 behind the door in the entryway. I want you to take it.”
Later, when I had time, I looked the old rifle over. Overall, it was in rough shape. The barrel was weathered to a black patina and the walnut stock was badly cracked in a couple of places. It had originally been a bolt action, clip-fed rifle, but with the magazine long gone it was now a single-shot. A knurled bolt underneath removed the barrel and action from the stock. I wondered about a mysterious hole in the left side of the stock. The adjustment ramp under the back sight was missing, leaving the sight hanging unsupported. I could barely make out the words on the barrel, “Winchester Model 69.” The rifle had all the earmarks of an old barn gun.
There was a time when America was much more rural than today. Around the homestead, ranch, or farm, a serviceable firearm was a necessity. In addition to providing food for the family, a gun was needed to protect the livestock from a chicken-stealing fox or an egg-eating raccoon. A large flock of crows could decimate a newly planted cornfield. Even “chicken hawks” were fair game in those days. Burlap bags in the barn stored valuable grain and feed, essential for livestock, but they could be ruined by rodents.
A dependable gun was often kept behind the entryway door or in the barn, where it would be available when needed. Most likely, it wasn’t a fancy gun. It may have been an old single-shot shotgun or a .22 caliber rifle. Possibly, it stood in a certain corner or was kept leaning against a particular beam in the barn for years. It may have been called “dad’s gun” or “Grandpa’s gun” or, as the passing years quietly slipped into decades, it became simply “the barn gun,” and it held its place in American history.
After disassembly and a good cleaning, the bolt worked smoothly, the safety worked well, and to my surprise, the bore and rifling looked like new. While walking out to my shooting backstop, I noticed how well balanced and easy carrying the slim old rifle was. A nickel-sized bullseye on a paper plate was set up. I walked back about ten yards, leaned against a tree for support, and squeezed off my first shot. I couldn’t see the hole. “Must be in the black or clean off the whole plate,” I thought as I went to check. It was in the black! Hmmm. To my surprise and pleasure, the next four shots printed nearly as well as the first one. Someone once said, “Only accurate rifles are interesting.” This old barn gun was getting interesting.
I learned more about the Winchester Model 69 with an internet search and by watching a few YouTube videos. First sold in 1935, it was developed for both sporting and target use. My new (old) rifle is the standard model with open sights and a 5-shot box magazine. The mysterious hole that I had noticed in the stock once held a magazine release button, which was known to be easily broken, causing the magazine to drop out and be lost. Several changes were made to the Model 69 in 1937, proving that this one was made in ’35 or ’36.
It’s interesting to note that the rifle has no serial number on it. Don’t worry, though, it is perfectly legal. Although many old guns do have serial numbers, they weren’t actually required by law until after the passage of the Gun Control Act of 1968.
My barn gun is 90 years old! Just looking at it and learning about it makes me wonder. Where did it spend nine decades? Was it a youngster’s first gun when it was shiny and new? The bore is like new, so someone took good care of it, but who? Was it actually left in a barn or woodshed or standing behind the door for years and years? Was it forgotten and only turned up years later? Who owned it and used it? How many small game animals, pests, and varmints had it accounted for? What accident caused the badly cracked stock? How and when was the magazine actually lost? Was the rifle passed down for generations? I can only dream of the possibilities.
Soon after receiving the rifle, I was doing the neighbor’s chores while they were on vacation. When feeding the ducks and chickens, I noticed the rats. Whenever grain and ground feed are around, rats might be present. However, these rats were walking around in broad daylight, acting like they owned the place. They were eating out of the food dishes right under the chicken’s feet! I found it interesting that the chickens paid no attention to them.
The next day, I took the barn gun and some sub-sonic .22 ammo with me to do chores. After putting out the chicken feed, I went from pen to pen, carefully picking my shots at the rats. The chickens didn’t mind the sound of the shots at all, but the rats did. By the second day, the rats were noticeably smarter. After eight rats were killed, the remaining rodents were so wary that they rarely even poked their heads out of the holes at feeding time.
The barn gun had proved its worth again. I like that old rifle!
