if anyone here knows of where to find some let me know. Midway is out of stock.

--
Of the Troops & For the Troops

I gave this M39 and a bottle of Geritol to Teresa on her 30th birthday (way back when) and (let me tell you what...that was a night to remember!!)..

Never got a proper rig for it....she has a gunslinger class coming up...so it was time...

Thanks so much....

My firsthaqndgun was a m39 my dad got from a family cop friend. I had to sell it one Christmas. The fellow I sold it to, loaned it to hos BiL who was later arrested. Someday I'll find a replacement for it.

I'd love to stumble on an affordable one o' dem.

Nice!

I have always liked the early Smith DA 9mm, and had good luck with them. Back about 1965 I even owned one of the ultra rare steel frame 39s. Today I have a good 59 and unlike others don't dislike the rather thick grip. I have always found these pistols to be reliable and accurate.

I remember some years back, hunting Elk in the Gila Wilderness (New Mexico) and a fellow came riding into our camp looking for some lost horses. It was in a driving rain and and he wore a 39 in a rain soaked cheap leather holster. He keep his hand close to it as he eyeballed our stock. He was none to friendly.

On the way out, we ran into him an another fellow, still looking for their missing stock. We had eight men each with a saddle horse and each with a pack horse in tow. These guy sat on two horses turned sideways across the train. It was on a narrow trail with a step drop off on one side and steep hill on the other side. Our stock got nervous and began to figit. These two were told in no uncertain terms to get off the trail and out of the way. They moved off the trail and again eyeballed every horse that went by.

They were agressive, hostile and put all of us at risk on that trail. I don't mind a fellow looking for their lost stock, but they needed better manners and judgment. They were not hunters but ranch types. They had seen to many John Wayne movies, but the head of our party was a real deal hardcase, the forman of the Flying H ranch. He didn't let a wet Smith 39 bother him one bit. When he told them to get off that trail, they didn't waste much time thinking about it.

I don't know why I tell this story, except the 39 jared my memory.