While growing up, one of my heros was my Uncle Red - a vetern from WWII. As the story goes, he lied to get into the Army where he received his first pair of shoes that he ever owned. He was a farm boy from the heartland. He told of being expected to deliver fifty rabbits to the house for every box of .22's he shot......I have no doubt that he delivered as directed. He talked very little about his experiences, however when he did, I followed every word. When he told of his experiences, he always spoke highly and fondly of his Sprinfield rifle and what he could do with it. My beloved Uncle Red (Ralph Davis) passed away several years ago - I received a call from my aunt who advised he had willed his rifle to me. I never received a higher compliment than knowing he wanted me to have HIS rifle. Uncle Red's 1903 Springfield, honest wear and a few dings, is proudly displayed in my livingroom as I type this - it was my uncle that taught me never to trust someone who has nothing about the daily barter. My 1903 will forever be above the daily barter. Thank you, Uncle Red.