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We had set the spread behind us that day to take advantage of the available cover. 6 doz decoys, a perfect north wind, and birds squawkin up to the north of us. Big Don and me had spent about two hours laying quietly on our backs in the coffins just waiting for the geese to make that 11 o'clock move...and then it happened. After a quick crescendo of honks, the birds were up and headin our way. From about a mile I watched their progress, with my chin on my chest, looking right down the length of my body. They were coming, low and fast. The wind at their backs, their honks filling the air. In they came, right over the top of me, 20 feet off the ground with our decoys as their guide. Then bam, bam, bam, big Don lays them low...and me, I never fired a shot. Like some kind of rooky I chose to remain laying on my back and shoot. As I raised the gun and started to follow their flight, the back of my hat caught the lip of the coffin and pulled the hat completely down over my face. By the time I recovered, of course it was too late and all over. 40 years ago, Promitory point.
 

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choot em!!


Geeze, that's a great story and you tell it so well. :)
 
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