A number of years ago with my folks we did a tour of WW2 battle fields (some may have been WW1?). I suppose my most striking memories of that tour de france was seeing the Normandy Beaches, the floating harbour parts providing sun shade to all the tourinsts and my dad explaining what they were for. The remaining beach defences and looking out over the beaches, again, my dad explaining where his dad had been (I never got it at the time). Next were the miles of white stones and seeing my parents in tears, again, I didnt understand at the time. Then we visited a place called Oradour sur Glane (look it up if you havnt seen/been there) and at probably 12 years old and a week in france I started to 'get it'. We visited the Maginot Line and saw the 3 foot thick iron hoods broken up, heard stories of the french drinking their own piss (nothing changed) and visited forest my dad said were battlefileds. In these battlefields or forests, we found lots of shrapnel, occasionaly it was green with material attached which my dad informed was aluminium and webbing. I remember it really clearly saying what was the chances of finding guns and he laughed and said not really any. Then the two most vivid memories of the holiday. Just infront of my foot on a farm track was a pretty much perfect circle of shrapnel we were finding. I called my dad and we dug this out: At the time it was full of clay but dead centre was a pencil like stick (primer?) with the end of a worn down piece of string! My old man suggested it could be a stick grenade. Next as we walked down this farm track, if you can imagine how the spray of water caused by a passing car may look if it set instantly in clay, at the side of the road were like clay waves, as I looked through the 'wave' there was a perfectly straight pipe. Again I called my dad and we dug this out: Still have them today, remind me of a great holiday with my now deceased dad and the reason why I choke up when we remember our brave service men and women and the service they give (is that dust in my eyes). Anyway, before wrapping up my story, my dad managed to get a fully operating lee enfield .303 rifle and ammo which we fired in a wood in scotland (he personally decommissioned it when he left us and then took it back and has gone with his new wife in his passing) but he also left this Smith and Wesson (please excuse the plastic chamber and handle, it was off a .44 magnum kit I made but they have all been in boxes for about 15 years until I moved house last week. So I thought I would tell my story and if anyone can identify them (even if its a French Farmers hunting rifle, badger gasser and rabbit cosh) I would appreciate it. Thanks!!