The following was sent to me by a long-time friend and hunting companion shortly before he died:
I had a reputation across South
Texas as the pre-eminent stock maker. Choosing good wood, finishing
it to perfection with 20 LPI checkering. The pride of ownership of a
rifle with a Bill Johansen stock brought me many customers.
I bought, per the customer's
preference, an action, a barrel, and wood for the stock. And
combined them to create a functional work of art.
Most chose a Douglas barrel. Some
opted for a Shilen, while a smaller minority asked for a Hart.
I helped the customer decide which
action to use. Some insisted on a military surplus, such as a Mauser or the
'03A3, for sentimental reasons. I used more Remington actions than any other to
build rifles.
I mounted the customer's choice of
scope. Seems like most wanted a high power variable. The more
experienced chose a fixed power. A few even refused to install a
scope.
Strange are the motivations of rifle
shooters.
The set up of the barrel and action
was routine and straight forward. I passed on the cost of the
hardware with only a small markup.
I made my profit on the stocks.
Some of my customers had me sight in
the gun. The more gun-savvy shot in their own.
It was mid-August when they first
entered my shop behind my home in Alice.
Suits. At first I thought
that they were BATF. But they were unaffiliated.
They declined to disclose any
association. But they got my attention by handing me a thousand
dollars in fifty dollar bills, just for thirty minutes of my time.
They explained to me what they
wanted: A rifle built on or like an M-14. Semi auto, twenty round
mags, four power Weaver or Leupold scope, chambered for the Italian
military 6mm.
I had a few questions. They answered
all that were technical in nature, but adamantly refused to discuss
purpose.
I deliberately quoted an
unreasonably high price, so that I'd have room to negotiate. To my
surprise they accepted my price.
They designated a date for delivery
— that is for pickup by their people: October 15, 1963. No delay.
And they would be inquiring for progress reports every two weeks.
“Would that be acceptable?”
Well, it would be cutting into my
seasonal rush for deer hunters. But at the price they agreed to, I
would manage.
More: They provided a box of
commercially loaded 6mm ammo. And a surplus Italian military rifle.
"Can you remove the barrel from this surplus rifle, and use it on the gun you assemble?"
I assured them that it was doable, but would diminish the value and appearance of the finished gun.
They reassured me, "Not a problem."
“You wll wear gloves to handle
the rifle and ammo. No fingerprints. As you assemble the
weapon you are making, you will wipe every part as you assemble the
gun — no fingerprints. Is that clear?”
I nodded.
“Acceptable?”
I agreed.
“You will sight in the rifle you
create, zeroed at 100 meters, and provide us the target for record.
Acceptable group size is to be five shots in 100 mm. You will wrap
the rifle in plain wrapping paper for pickup.”
"Okay."
I prepared the weapon as specified,
and had it ready for pickup on October 1st. They paid me
in anonymous fifty dollar bills, and took the rifles, with no comment
or question.
You are doubtless speculating on the
probable use and destination of that gun. Don't think that I
haven't gone there, many times. I thought of contacting
authorities; but due to the circus of the Warren commission I decided
that the better course was silence.
Now, as I await the final rendition
of my accelerating heart's misfunctions I feel a need to share this
history. Not that it will accomplish anything, but it may satisfy
some curteosities. And at 97 I am beyond the reach of official
retribution.
B.J., Alice, TX, Nov15, 2021