I almost dropped my CZ 85 Compact the other day. I was loading the Outlander for a trip home and on my third or fourth trip onto the porch and down the stairs I suddenly felt the pistol shift under my arm. I jammed my arm down against my side an managed to set down the stuff I was carrying. I was trying to figure out why the pistol could have come out of the holster when I realized it was still in the holster. Evidently, when I shoved the holster down in my pants I didn't get the clip all the way around my belt and it worked it's way up out of my pants.
One time I set my M700 varmint special up on it's bipod beside my car as we were getting stuff out to go shooting. Then a buddy came up, couldn't get to the stuff in the back seat through the window, pulled his head out, straightened up and opened the door. I just knew I could hear that pretty blued barrel crunch when it hit the gravel but I could never find a mark on it after I wiped the dust/dirt off of it.
Never dropped a shotgun, not in all those years of hunting in bad weather.
Never dropped a deer rifle either.
Dropped an M16A1 in basic on a cold, wet, muddy January day at Ft. Polk. Dropped right down in the mud and started knocking out pushups with the muddy rifle on the top of my hands before the drill sgts. even figured out who it was. I was already calling out, "One, Drill Sgt., Two, Drill Sgt.", and they just looked away and kept on discussing what ever it was they were gathered up to talk about.
Dropped my M14 one hot muggy morning on Sumerall Field at Ft. Myers. Second to the last movement in Fix Bayonets. I didn't pick it up, just kept moving like I still had hold of it (just like we were supposed to.) That big old ugly 1st. Sgt. of Honor Guard Co. was looking at us (he'd evidently heard it hit the ground.) He eventually figured out it was me, strolled across the grass to the platoon and bent over to pick up my rifle. He grabbed my right hand with his left hand and slammed that rifle into my hand so hard my hand went numb. For a bit I was wondering if I still had it or if I'd dropped it again, then realized that if I'd dropped it he wouldn't still be standing there cussing me and telling me that if I ever dropped that rifle again and he picked it up for me it would be the last time I dropped it because he'd shove it up my a__ sideways.
I was 6'3" tall and 1st Sgt. "Jack" Daniels was about 6'5" or 6'6" and probably 20 or 30 lbs. heavier than me. It had been about 10 years since he was the US Army heavyweight boxing champ but he could still know people down/out. Just before I got there he'd broken a Sgt.'s jaw and knocked him out. While I was there he'd knocked out a guy down in Caisson's for saying something he shouldn't have said.
I "let" him threaten/cuss me and walk away and figured I came out on the better end of things. Before that part of the parade practice was over, I could feel that rifle in my hand again. Not once in the next three years did I ever drop my M14.
