When I was 13 my parents gave me a .45 pistol for my birthday.
Granted, it was a flintlock, but it was a .45 pistol! My brother, 12, got a .45 percussion rifle.
We had a grand time riddling the oak tree on our front lawn with balls. Except when we had hangfires and misfires; what a pain in the ass those were. The worst, though, was when one of the brass caps on my ramrod came loose and got stuck in the barrel. I couldn't get it out and so had to shoot it into the tree. At least it fit more snugly with all it's dents and such.
Granted, it was a flintlock, but it was a .45 pistol! My brother, 12, got a .45 percussion rifle.
We had a grand time riddling the oak tree on our front lawn with balls. Except when we had hangfires and misfires; what a pain in the ass those were. The worst, though, was when one of the brass caps on my ramrod came loose and got stuck in the barrel. I couldn't get it out and so had to shoot it into the tree. At least it fit more snugly with all it's dents and such.