My first had belonged to my Uncle Bob, who was a bombardier on a B-17 in WWII. He was shot down over Belgium in 1944, crew all died. I was very young at the time, but remember liking him very much. He had several guns and they were all stored upstairs in Gma's house just as he had left them. She didn't like me going up there, but I did whenever I could...so many neat things to see!
When I was 10 or so, I finally talked her into giving me an old Sears Ranger bolt action .22. My uncle had shortened the barrel and cut off the stock into a pistol grip. He called it his "rat gun" and used it with .22 shot shells on rats in the barn and corn crib.
My Dad wouldn't let me shoot it until I had cleaned it over and over (he was also in WWII) until he was satisfied. It had a bulge in the barrel and almost no rifling left, but I was very proud of it and put many rounds of LR thru it.
I still have it along with a couple of nice old Marlin lever actions of his. They will stay in the family!