If it is a repost, please ignore....
...(and yes, I know it's an older article...
...)..:
...(and yes, I know it's an older article......)..:Dead-Stock
Battle-sight boar: Hunting non-sporter style with a vintage Mauser K98k.
By Craig Boddington
In my day most shooters started with military surplus rifles. For thousands of early Baby Boomers like me, the hot ticket was a 1903 Springfield. A good one cost forty bucks in 1960. In those innocent days before the 1968 Gun Control Act magazines like this carried full-page ads from which we could order a wonderful array of Springfields, Enfields, Mausers, and so many more.
Some of us shot them as is, but in those days sporterizing was “in,” so we restocked and modified with wild abandon. In our mind we were turning military junk into “sporterized” rifles. It never occurred to us that, in the process, we were destroying what would become valuable collectors’ pieces!
Have you priced a really good fully original Springfield lately? Can you actually find one? Supplies of almost all World War II-vintage rifles dried up years ago and prices have escalated dramatically. But there are still a few around, though not for much longer.
HOW ABOUT A MAUSER?
The Springfield is nothing more than a modified Mauser, so close a knockoff that, before World War I, Uncle Sam was actually compelled to pay Mauser a royalty. The Springfield had the advantage of being chambered to our beloved .30-06, and it was a fine rifle—but it was never better than the original Mauser. In the postwar era no red-blooded American would admit that, but today I can handle the truth. This is important, because there remain fast-dwindling supplies of original Mauser military rifles, many uncovered in forgotten warehouses after the Iron Curtain came down.
Editor Richard Venola asked me to obtain an original Mauser from Mitchell’s Mausers in San Diego and go have fun with it. Initially I wasn’t too keen on the project. The action would be worth cannibalizing—except it would be a right-handed action (ugh!). Orders are orders, so I called Tom Dodge at Mitchell’s. They had quite an array of Mausers in various configurations and grades, and from several different factories. No, they didn’t have any rifles for forty bucks. But it wasn’t necessary to add a zero. Prices started at about $250 for a K98, not bad for a piece of history.
THE PORTUGUESE CONNECTION
When I opened the box all reservations vanished. I was looking at a seemingly brand-new German K98k, 8x57 complete with all serial numbers matching—and with some differences. The side of the receiver tells me it was made at the “home” factory in Oberndorf, with standard Nazi proofmarks. The front receiver ring carries the Portuguese crest with the year of manufacture, 1941. This in itself tells a story.
According to Richard Law (The German K98k Rifle, Cobourg, Ontario, 1993) Mauser started building “98 Mauser” rifles for Portugal in 1931. For several years these rifles were the standard Gewehr model, not the later K98k. The original Portuguese standard rifle lacked the bolt disassembly disc in the buttstock, and was made to accept either the customary side-mounted sling or a bottom-mounted sling, with a sling swivel stud just aft of the pistolgrip. My particular rifle lacks this additional sling swivel stud, and it has the bolt disassembly disc. It is thus a true K98k, built under contract for Portugal.
In 1941 German troops were fighting across North Africa and Russia. They needed rifles, so numbers of contract rifles were seized rather than delivered. Law writes, “The Wehrmacht diverted large numbers of these Portuguese K98ks to its own forces, keeping the Portuguese markings intact. These rifles, when found, are usually quite well worn, evidencing considerable actual field use by German troops.”
Mitchell’s (very cool) “letter of provenance” accompanying their rifles tells me that the rifle was “factory overhauled and brought to near-new military condition.” Undoubtedly, because the rifle they sent me is as close to new as a 68-year-old rifle can be. But it most certainly never saw combat! It is truly gorgeous, a genuine piece of history far too good to consider customizing, sporterizing, or cannibalizing—even if it had been left-handed!
AT THE RANGE
I had never used the great old 8x57 Mauser. Its fans rate it similar to the .30-06, but on paper it’s considerably milder, the standard load being a 170-grain bullet at 2,360 fps. Mitchell’s sent along some of their factory loads with a 175-grain spitzer softpoint, loaded a bit faster. With greater frontal area I suppose we could argue all day whether it’s the equal of the .30-06 or not. My intent was to take this old warhorse pig hunting, and I knew I had enough horsepower for that.
My biggest challenge was the sights. The tangent rear sight is graduated for ranges up to 1,800 meters. Not for me! Add the V-notch rear to a coarse triangular front blade, and I understood immediately this rifle was intended for keen-eyed soldiers in their 20s! I figured I’d be lucky to hold a group at 50 yards.
In this I was wrong. I don’t know what the German marksmanship protocol was, but the sights were perfectly regulated for a six-o’clock hold. This is a good choice for combat, not great for field shooting. Even so, once I got the hang of it I could keep my shots nicely together at 50 yards. Growing more daring, I moved to 100 yards, using a visible “EZ2C” blaze-orange bull. I was surprised that I could hold three-inch groups, sometimes a bit better.
The rifle is slim and trim, especially as military rifles of its era go. It handles well and comes up perfectly. The barrel length is 24 inches, and I was surprised when I put it on the scales that it weighed in at almost exactly nine pounds. It felt lighter than that and balanced extremely well. The action was arsenal-tight and new, but also smooth and positive. It would shock me if this rifle had ever been issued, let alone fired in anger. Well, I wasn’t going to fire it in anger, since I’m certainly not angry at our local pigs!
“MAUSERED” PORK
I’d agreed to accompany Doug Turner on a pig hunt he’d acquired at a “Friends of the NRA” fundraiser, donated by friends and local outfitters Nesson Schmidt and Tom Willoughby. We set the hunt for first of July, actually a pretty good time to hunt pigs because food sources are limited—but it’s a short morning hunt and a very long wait for an even shorter evening hunt.
There was one small detail I’d forgotten until Willoughby reminded me: This part of the coast is in the condor area, meaning lead-free bullets are mandatory. Oh, Lord! Just short of panic I called Larry Barnett at Superior. In just a couple of days I had a box of 8x57 with loaded with California-legal 200-grain Barnes X bullets. At the range again, I discovered that the windage remained perfect, and the heavier bullet dropped the point of impact a bit. Things were looking up!
At gray dawn Willoughby’s son, Tom Jr., and I took a spot on a well-traveled ridge where, theoretically, pigs would filter through from barley fields far below enroute to chaparral bedding grounds behind us. A half-hour after daylight we watched two sows work their way to us, then veer off onto the next ridge. I was in favor of moving hard to cut them off, but Tom advised patience. He was right on two counts: Our chances of getting in front of these were slim, and a short while later we had a much larger group headed our way.
There must have been 15, maybe 20, several big hogs in the group. They stopped at the base of the ridge below us, a bit over 100 yards. We picked out one of the biggest—and I missed him clean off the sticks! I guess I could say that they were still in shadow and I couldn’t see the sights. But I thought I could, so I think I just plain missed.
The pigs took off at an angle, but headed up our ridge. We ran hard to cut them off, pulling up short as they crossed the ridge at about 60 yards. A big-bodied tan boar ran next to last. I swung with him, kept the hold low, and he dropped to the shot. I had followed my orders to the letter: This was really fun! A few minutes later we heard Doug’s 7mm magnum on the next ridge. His boar carried the best tusks I have ever seen on a Central Coast hog—and that didn’t detract from the fun at all.
