Gerry Ouellette
by Hap Rocketto
Twenty days before Christmas of 1956 the rifleman who had survived the qualifying round carefully arranged their shooting gear on the firing line at the Colonel Sir Charles Merrett Range in Williamstown, a suburb of Melbourne, Australia. This was first smallbore prone match in the first Olympics held in the southern hemisphere. United States team member Art Jackson, the 1956 bronze medalist in prone, would not fare as well in this Olympics as ones past but it would do nothing to tarnish his sterling reputation as one of the premier riflemen of the era.
It has been my delight to have been Art’s acolyte since the early 1970s. He has generously shared with me his extensive shooting experiences and memories of a transitional age in international shooting, as well as the occasional rifle. One of the tales he delights in telling is an incident he watched unfold at the Melbourne Games involving two of Canada’s greatest riflemen, Gerry Ouellette and Gil Boa.
The pair was shooting the prone match as well as the three position match and Ouellette was also firing the 300 meters. Both had qualified for the final but a relatively poor performance in the preliminary had Ouellette concerned about the capability of his rifle. Boa offered to share his Winchester 52 with Ouellette in the finals, a generous offer, quickly accepted. The only hitch was that there was only one relay-the reason for the preliminary in the first place. This meant that the duo would not only share one rifle and its dwindling supply of match ammunition but also the time, just two and a half hours. Because the targets were to be changed after each shot, if there were any delay in pit service the second shooter could easily find himself in a severe time bind.
Boa shot first, scoring a 598 and, after a five way tie breaker, the bronze medal-but I am getting ahead of the tale. He then passed the rifle to Ouellette who shot a perfect 600 in what time remained, seemingly beating Art Cook’s 1948 Olympic record of 599 and winning the gold medal. Ouellette would, indeed, be the Olympic champion but not the record holder for it was discovered that the range was 1½ meters short of the regulation length during the post match verification.
Art reminded me of this story when I picked up his Winchester 52 Pre-A Speedlock that he wanted me to shoot in the Made In America Match at Camp Perry. He had cajoled me into shooting the match with this classic old rifle. I did not realize that he was handing me a shooting artifact of some historical significance. He never mentioned it and I didn’t discover until I was preparing the rifle for practice that a small oval silver plate was set into the stock stating, “50 & 100 Mtr. Prone World’s Championship 1949 & 1952-Pan American games I951 & 1955 A. Jackson.” The Winchester had been used to win a handful of international gold medals and set a few records in the World Championships and Pan American Games while I was yet in second grade. I hoped not to embarrass it or its owner. I was concerned because Art is tall and lean and I am short and fat and so the rifle did not quite fit.
As it turns out I did well enough with it in the MIA, finishing second and having the only clean score at 100 yards. It also won the most unique rifle award. The MIA had run long and I rushed up the line to get to my team firing point. I left Art’s rifle in its case at the foot of my point where I could keep an eye on it. Unknown to me it was soon to be Melbourne 1956 déjà vu.
Early in the first stage of the team match I sensed a disturbance in the force. Team mate Shawn Carpenter was mumbling to himself as he got out of position and started wiggling various pieces and parts of his rifle. I quickly asked what was up and he said he had mysteriously run out of left windage. After checking the rifle as best he could he told me there seemed to be nothing he could do to correct the situation. As I bent to my task I recalled Art’s tale. It took just ten minutes from the command “Commence Fire” to my last record shot. I was sliding behind my scope to spot for him while my even as my last cartridge case was still cart wheeling through the air. I had unhooked my sling, rolled over, and passed my rifle to Shawn in the meantime. Even though we are about the same height my rifle is not fitted for him but he soldiered on and managed to complete his 20 record shots before the time limit expired. We shot almost identical scores.
As we went out to change targets Shawn stayed behind and found that he had installed his ‘bloop tube’ cockeyed. That solved the problem, sort of. With all of the sight corrections he was not sure he was back to his no wind zero and the sights still had to be run up for the 100 yard stage. I was prepared to execute another rifle switch if things again went awry. As it turned out he was on paper on the first shot. We won the iron sight team match in the Expert class for the seventh consecutive time, each shooting a 383. However, I had a two X lead on him-shades of Gerry Ouellette and Gil Boa.
It was a bit eerie. We had sort of duplicated the Canadian’s 1956 feat, albeit with two Xs instead of points. Ouellette, who had the higher score of the pair, was an avid aviator, as am I. At my feet, as a mute observer to what its owner had witnessed a half a world away and a half a century before, was Art’s Winchester 52. To round it out we were shooting north on the south shore of Lake Erie, facing Canada, Ouellette and Boa’s home.
