Curtis Guild, Logan, and the Ladle

by Hap Rocketto 

When I was a young pup, fresh caught by the Connecticut National Guard Rifle Team, the very first match I shot with them was the Logan Trophy Match. This was a contest between the Connecticut and Massachusetts elements of the 43rd Infantry Brigade of the 26th “Yankee” Division. The prize was bragging rights for a year and a large handsome silver Revere Bowl donated by former Adjutant General of Massachusetts Major General Logan. The bowl featured prominently in the match as it was filled with a spirit rich punch at a banquet held the night before the shoot. It also became a tradition for the Connecticut Guard to spirit away the spirit ladle, while the Massachusetts Guardsmen tried to protect it, and return it to General Logan at the awards ceremony following the match. In all the years I was a participant we never failed in either winning possession of the ladle, or the trophy for that matter. All had a great time as the evening was filled with food, drink, song, and fellowship.

The next morning we dragged our stuffed bellies, sometime aching heads, and sore throats to the line to blast away with M-16A1 and 1911A1 Colt Automatic Pistols for glory and possession of the bowl. The first year we shot for the Logan trophy, 1973, the match was held at the Massachusetts Guard’s ranges at Camp Curtis Guild, pronounced Guile not Gild, which happens to be adjacent to the Reading Rifle and Revolver Club.

The facility dated back to the early part of the century and had boasted picturesque old wooden barracks and out buildings set amid groves of fragrant conifers. The range was unusual as it boasted a single firing line with pits running out to 600 yards. There was a tunnel that ran from behind the firing line to each one of the target butts allowing shooters to fire at various ranges and change pit crews without a cessation of fire. In the years between wars there was even a 1,000-yard range in operation.

It was the hub of service rifle shooting in New England and known through out the nation as the ranges at Wakefield. There were two great jewels in the range’s crown, the first being the annual United Service Matches that brought great shooters from all over to contest for awards prior to heading west to Camp Perry. The second was that the legendary United States Marine Teams of that golden era trained at Wakefield in preparation for the National Matches at Camp Perry. The Marines believed, apparently correctly if one notes their success rate, that the six or eight weeks they spent there in preparation helped them acclimate to Perry like weather while forging a well coordinated shooting machine.

It must have been quit a sight, dozens of olive drab and khaki clad men, campaign hats shading their tanned and leathery faces, bodies contorted into the classic shooting positions in front of coaches with long glasses on tripods, and targets moving up and down to the rhythm of the barking ‘03s. Behind the firing line team captains and coaches such as the likes of Merritt Edson, the only man ever authorized to wear both the Congressional Medal of Honor and the Distinguished Marksman’s Badge, held court with legendary greats such as Calvin Lloyd, and Bill Whaling. Over volumes of notes they selected teams that would set both individual and team national records as they went about winning possession of the imposing “Dogs of War” Trophy.

At this historic range Creighton Audette once fired and won a match with a Reising Gun sponsored by the famed inventor himself. A young Art Jackson, not yet a world champion or Olympic medal winner and freshly returned from the war, shot center fire with Eleanor Dunn’s rifle at Wakefield. I once won an offhand service rifle match there with a score of 198-10X that was credited to the late Al Maloney in the newspaper write up. It didn’t bother me as I had the score in my book and the prize money in my wallet.

I truly wished that I had been more aware of the history of my sport when I first began shooting there. For all I know I might have slept in the same rack as Edson or Lloyd. I might well have dragged up some more historical sidelights that have been lost. Recently I received a letter from Mike LaRuffa who remembered me from the early 80s when his father was running the high power rifle matches at Reading. My brother Steve gave the then young junior advice about shooting with the military. Mike followed it to a fine shooting and military career that continues to this day.

Enclosed with his letter was a set of recent photos of the now abandoned range. I have not been at Guild in more years than I can remember and it was sad to see the vines climbing over the range tower and the tall grass concealing the entrance to the range tunnel. Yet, despite the distance of time and miles, it was not hard to imagine the shades of Marines, Guardsmen, and civilians of all eras carrying rifles-Winchester Model 70s, Remington 40Xs, Springfield 03s, M-1s, M-14s, and Colt M-16s-while mixing in a ghostly rifle tournament at the historic site. The range may appear to be neglected but its memory is well tended in the minds of those who have fired across the course there.