|
Jesse's Hunting > Gun Room Articles > The Gun Room > Playing the Name Game with the Marlin 39
Playing the Name Game with the Marlin 39
Andy Moe - JHO ProStaff
- God's Country, Montana
September 06, 2007
It’s a she.
Ever notice how sometimes a shooter will assign a gender to their pet firearm? I don’t know if it’s something that women do, but I know a lot of men do it. I can’t tell you how many 30-30s and 12 gauges I’ve encountered over the years that were lovingly referred to as “Old Betsy” by their owners; usually while recounting a dead-eye shot on a flagging whitetail buck or a reflexive wing shot on an old cock pheasant that was hitting mach speeds over the tall brush.
In any event, this name –what ever it may be- was usually given as a sign of affection. I have a hard time naming firearms because when I get tempted to give it a whirl, the gender choice gets in the way. I have some firearms that definitely do not merit a lady’s name! And some that are on the fence, so to speak. This indecision has caused me to just leave some very name-worthy firearms nameless amongst the rabble.
Well, I have no such problem with the Marlin Model 39A lever action .22 any more. I recently found an old ad for the Model 39A Marlin in which Marlin claimed this rifle to be a “she”. Well that’s good enough for me. I’ve always liked the name Emily. It’s simple, strong and elegant. Just like the rifle, itself.
The Marlin Lever action .22 began life in 1891 and except for some cosmetic changes and a few engineering tweaks, the rifle remains basically the same gun today as it was back then. One hundred and sixteen years of nearly constant production makes it longest manufacturing run for a rifle in US history. If that wasn’t distinction enough, it’s noteworthy that the Marlin was the first repeating rifle to be chambered for the .22 Long Rifle cartridge.
It is certainly the most popular .22 lever action of all time. Heads of state have owned them and farmers owned them. Old issues of “Fur and Fish” illustrated the well heeled trapper as carrying a Marlin Model 39. Annie Oakley used one for her most famous shooting exhibitions. Capable of functioning just as well with 22 Shorts as Long Rifles, it remains a fine choice for the shooter wanting the ultimate in versatility combined with the feel of a full sized rifle; a recommendation for the Model 39 that Marlin has made the public aware of in many advertisements over the last century.
I bought my first Model 39A when I was a senior in high school. It was a Father’s Day present for my dad that I bought from an elderly neighbor who was never quite bitten hard enough by the shooting bug to get around to using it. The rifle was a 1947 production and in exquisite shape; still in the original box with all the paperwork attached. Even in 1975 I knew this was something special.
My Dad recognized this, too, though I think he liked it more for its shooting qualities rather than its collector’s value. In the fall he would tuck the cased Marlin into the back of his car so he could sneak off to hardwood groves after work to shoot squirrels in the fading autumn light. He often came home with a few neatly shot grays in a foam cooler. After Dad died my older brother assumed ownership of the still-pristine Marlin but shortly afterwards it was stolen during a burglary. I don’t know if Dad ever named the rifle he was so fond of, but he might have gotten around to it sooner or later. He was that kind of guy.
I loved going out with Dad to shoot his Marlin and reminisced about those times often in the years that followed my setting out into the world. Consequently, when the chance came to trade into a 1948 vintage Marlin Model 39A back in 1995 I jumped at it. Its appearance was a far cry from Dad’s rifle. The bluing was worn and the stock had been sanded heavily during several attempts at a refinish. The rifle had seen better days, for sure, but it shot well. The action was tight and the six-groove Ballard-Cut rifling was sharp and bright. It proved to be accurate with open sights and the addition of a Lyman #66 receiver sight had it shooting better yet.
Other than the cosmetic flaws, the old gun felt like Dad’s. No surprise there. Since I couldn’t leave my son, Andy, my Dad’s old rifle, I decided right then to spruce the old gun up and give it to him in its stead.
A transfer to a different Duty Station had us leaving the Marlin in storage for nearly a decade, but with our return to God’s Country we got the chance to get reacquainted with this rifle. The first thing I did was to restock it with a set of contemporary Model 39A wood purchased from Marlin. As always, it is black walnut, but it’s now provided with tasteful checkering and a thin rubber butt pad. It’s a real looker and the new wood gave it an even more impressive heft. Andy, now 21, sure liked it. He hadn’t given this rifle a name but then I don’t think he has ever indulged in the personification of any of his firearms. He’s not that kind of guy.
But, this was the Kid’s rifle and he was free to do with it as he pleased. He let me shoot it whenever I wanted but it wasn’t like actually owning it.
…And I really shouldn’t be shooting his rifle, should I?
At least, that’s the question I asked myself when I found Emily in a pawn shop a few weeks back. She was a sad looking twenty-nine year old Model 39A that might have gone unnoticed if hadn’t been for her long, 24” barrel poking up over the rest of the .22’s in the rack. The poor girl had seen some neglect in her life.
The metal was sprinkled with a dusting of rust and her appearance was generally unkempt. I thought that rust might just wipe off with an oily rag but the shop owner didn’t seem as optimistic because the rifle sported a price that normally bespoke of some hidden, irreparable damage. I looked her over, hard. The walnut stock had some scrapes and dents but was otherwise sound. Aside from the rust, everything was where it should be and was functional. I took this soiled dove home for a song. As I expected, a brass brush and some Break Free had the surface rust gone. The rest of the gun cleaned up nicely, too, and the Micro Groove barrel was flawless. It looked good but she hadn’t endeared herself to me yet so she remained for now just, the “New Gun”.
With the cleanup completed, Andy and I penciled in a range trip for the .22’s and began gathering up a supply of suitable ammunition: A mixture of Shorts, Longs, and Long Rifles would do the trick. This would be a two gun trip: I with my new Model 39A and Jr with his old 1948. Andy hadn’t fired his Model 39 since Christmas last –at which time we discovered the Marlin had developed a worn firing pin that gave erratic ignition. That winter I fit a new firing pin to the 1948 so for him it was more of a function test than anything else; just to insure that his Old Man had fit the new firing pin correctly. While was attending to that, I was to put my own rifle through its paces.
I began with slow and fast feeding of Long Rifle cartridges, then moved to the same test with Shorts. Then I mixed them up. Not a hint of a problem. Now I liked this rifle even more. If you haven’t noticed, there is a distinct lack of rifles on the market these days that will feed .22 Shorts, Longs, and Long Rifle ammunition with equal ease. The Marlin Model 39’s strong selling point throughout the decades has been its ability to do just that.
With a tubular magazine that holds 19 Long Rifles, 21 Longs, and twenty-six .22 Shorts, a squirrel hunter would have to be darned unlucky –or a miserably bad shot- if he or she needed to reload before limiting out for the day. The use of Shorts might seem a little archaic to the younger shooters in the crowd but there are still a lot of folks out there who appreciate the versatility of such a rifle. I know that “Load on Sunday, shoot ‘til Friday” thing still really gets to me! The prospect of shooting magazines full of shorts made me feel like I was twelve again.
During my function test I shot at nothing in particular; I just fired at the embankment and concentrating on that was going on inside the gun. Now that it was time to see how it shot for serious, I sat down at the bench and fired a few groups over the bags. Winchester Super-X and Aguila “SE” Hi Velocity shot great… amazingly well, considering my aging eyes. All my shots were in tight clusters when I didn’t screw up. The only sight adjustment I made from the previous owner’s setting was to adjust the rear sight elevator the couple of steps needed to bring my bullets to center above the bead at 25 yards.
A run through with CCI’s “CB” Short, High Velocity Short, and Standard Short (in round nose and hollow point) showed that all these “sub loads” were definitely squirrel-head accurate at 25 yards. With the high velocity Long Rifle rounds hitting directly above the bead, these Short rounds dropped to a point just covered by the bead. Moving the elevator a single notch brought all but the 700 feet-per-second CB’s to the same point of impact as the Long Rifle rounds. An additional notch brought the CB’s into view. This was beginning to all work out. I was happier yet.
At this point Andy and I swapped places at the bench so that he could tweak the zero on his Marlin, leaving me free to pop targets of opportunity off hand. As we reloaded I spotted an old can glistening in the sun on the 50 yard bank. When the Boy sat down to shoot for group I stepped up the rear elevator a notch and took bead on the spot right under the can. I hit the can nine out of ten, off-hand, bouncing it up the bank and watching it roll back down. It was deceptively easy. The rifle lay well against the shoulder and balanced perfectly on the forehand. I reloaded and did it again, this time with a handful of Shorts. I was grinning now like a teenager that’d caught a smile from a pretty girl on the street. I wasn’t in love but I couldn’t rule out serious infatuation!
Emily she was.
I was reloading a third time as Andy finished up his 25 yards groups. He picked up the binoculars, took a look, and handed them off to me; Three five shot groups, with pretty much all shots touching in each group, and all three neatly centered on the bulls-eyes. As he unlimbered himself from the shooting bench he patted the top of the old 39A’s receiver and said, “Man. She really shoots.”
She??
Well, I’ll be darned!
I wonder if he’s thought of a name yet.
|
