In 1971 I was in the Air Force and had just returned from an overseas tour. My duty station was a very large base in the Washington DC metropolitan area, and since I’d been a gun collector and shooter for years, I didn’t pass up the opportunity this presented to visit the premises of Potomac Arms, the famous surplus gun house in Alexandria, Virginia. Flush with cash from an “enforced savings program” in my previous posting (where there was nowhere to spend money) and a recent promotion, I decide to buy myself a rifle as a present. Specifically, I wanted a Lee-Enfield No. 1 Mark III.
I’ve always been interested in SMLE’s, though I can’t tell you why. There is just something about Enfields that appeals to me: their simplicity, ruggedness, proven battle record, and long, long service to “King & Country” has something to do with it. There’s also the fact that they’re so homely—there really is no other word that fits—that they have a certain goofy charm of their own, like a moose calf.
