Colonel Charles Askins Jr. was a man forged in the crucible of the American frontier spirit – rough, unapologetic, and fully aware of the controversy that followed him. Born in Texas in 1907 and raised in Oklahoma, he spent much of his early life under the shadow and influence of his father, Major Charles Askins Sr., a Spanish-American War veteran and celebrated shotgun authority. While Askins Sr. was known for his refined opinions on bird dogs and wingshooting, his son would go on to become one of the most controversial gunmen, soldiers, and writers in 20th-century American history.
Askins Jr. referred to himself without irony as an “unrepentant sinner.” The world he grew up in was raw, and he adapted accordingly. His life story reads like a mix of adventure novel and confessional memoir, complete with gunfights, medals, and enough sharp-edged honesty to make even his admirers wince.
Raised by a Marksman
Askins’ upbringing was unusual and unfiltered. With his mother largely absent, he was raised by his father in a household governed more by dogs and rifles than by chores and structure. They rarely cleaned, seldom made beds, and shot often. That kind of loose domestic order gave young Askins a wide berth to develop both his mischievous side and his gun skills. When he shot a friend in the calf for borrowing his horse without asking, he didn’t do so out of rage – but to make a point. In his own words, he spared the boy’s life because they were “bosom buddies.”
He was known in town as a troublemaker, and many locals predicted he wouldn’t live long. But he had an innate skill that set him apart: the ability to shoot with frightening precision. By age 15, he was already entering competitive shooting through the Citizens Military Training Camp program, eventually winning the rifle championship using a Springfield 1903, despite having to adapt from his natural left-handed stance.
Forest Ranger Turned Gunman
After skipping college, Askins spent several summers in the wilds of Montana as a forest ranger and fire lookout. These isolated posts allowed him time to hone his skills with a .45 ACP 1911 pistol. He later wrote that he had no idea at the time how much pistols would define his life. That solitude also helped mold a hardened, self-sufficient character – one that would be unleashed when he joined the U.S. Border Patrol in El Paso, Texas.
During the Prohibition era and the Great Depression, the southern border was rife with smuggling and violence. Gunfights were routine. Askins joined with his 1911 and quickly upgraded his long gun to a Savage Model 99 in .25-35 and a customized Remington Model 11 shotgun. These weren’t department-issued choices—they were personal tools for a man who understood violence intimately and was willing to match it with greater force.
A Pistol Champion with an Edge
Askins didn’t just shoot to survive – he shot to win. On the Border Patrol shooting team and later in the National Guard, he developed into a top-tier competitive marksman. He won two national individual pistol championships, the Texas state title five times, and accumulated more than 500 medals and over 100 trophies during a decade of relentless competition. He even invented a new cartridge, the .221 Askins, which was a .22 caliber centerfire round designed to outshoot traditional .38s and .32s in bullseye matches.
When his superiors forbade him from using it in official matches, he resigned from the Border Patrol in defiance, walking away from nearly ten years of service. It was classic Askins – brilliant, stubborn, and unwilling to compromise.
War and a Soldier’s Joy
World War II reignited Askins’ purpose. “No soldier ever went off to war with a lighter heart,” he once wrote. He fought in North Africa, Sicily, and Normandy. After the war, he joined the 82nd Airborne and the 18th Airborne Corps, making 132 parachute jumps and even serving as a military attaché in Spain. Askins thrived in war zones – places where rules bent, and performance mattered more than pedigree.
Though he left the military briefly after WWII, he returned during the Vietnam era, serving again in a training role for the South Vietnamese army. In total, he dedicated 35 years of his life to military service.
A Pen as Sharp as His Aim
While his service and shooting skills earned him accolades, it was Askins’ writing that preserved his legacy. Over a span of 70 years, he published more than a thousand articles and twelve books. He never minced words. Whether reviewing calibers, recounting gunfights, or criticizing fellow writers, his prose was biting and unapologetically personal.
His feud with famed outdoor writer Jack O’Connor is legendary. Askins never forgave O’Connor for replacing his father as shooting editor of Outdoor Life in 1941. In a rare moment of reflection, Askins later admitted his ire was misdirected – it was the magazine’s new editor who made the call. But bitterness stayed with him. Even in his autobiography, Askins said he only softened after O’Connor’s “very timely death.”
A Life on the Edge
What made Askins controversial wasn’t just that he’d killed men – it was that he talked about it. In his memoir, Unrepentant Sinner, he details his shootouts on the border, his wartime kills, and his own introspection over whether he may have been drawn to killing itself. He even wondered aloud if he might be a psychopath, writing that big-game hunting became his substitute for hunting men.
When asked how many he’d killed, Askins would answer flatly: “Twenty-seven. Not counting.” It’s a jarring admission, made more so by his calm acceptance. He didn’t romanticize violence, but he also didn’t regret it. For him, it was the nature of the job and the era.
The Authority on All Things That Go Bang
Askins’ opinions on guns were firm and colored by a life of use. He preferred .45 caliber handguns, saw little value in what he called “penny-ante” rifle cartridges like the .223 and .243, and favored heavy-hitting rounds for dangerous game. For African buffalo, he developed his own .416 caliber load. Despite his love for rifles and pistols, he considered himself primarily a shotgunner, having inherited that passion from his father.
His final published piece, The Swan Song, ran in American Rifleman in 1987. In it, he distilled a lifetime of firearms expertise into one last article – still colorful, still opinionated, still entirely Askins.
Sharp Trigger, Sharper Tongue
Askins’ personality leapt off the page. His review of the .44 Magnum was typical Askins: blunt, bold, and dripping with disdain for anyone soft. He scoffed at shooters who wore gloves to manage the recoil, joking they must be “wearing lace on their panties.” He called the recoil “heartwarming” and “stimulating,” and said the revolver would have been the perfect weapon during his Border Patrol days.
This was no act. Askins was the real thing – a man of contradictions who could shoot, write, and offend with equal skill.
Legacy of a Legend
Though Charles Askins Jr. passed away in 1999 at the age of 91, his legacy hasn’t faded. He was a man who told the truth as he saw it, fought hard, lived harder, and didn’t care who he offended. Some still bristle at the way he wrote about killing, while others see in him a clear-eyed chronicler of a violent century.
In the end, Askins didn’t ask for forgiveness – and didn’t expect it. He was a man of his times, and often ahead of them. Whether viewed as a hero, a sinner, or something in between, his life stands as a uniquely American story.
A Legacy of Unfiltered Experience
Col. Charles Askins Jr. lived a life few today could imagine. He fought wars, hunted dangerous game, wrote prolifically, and stood at the center of America’s evolving relationship with firearms. Through every decade, he remained unapologetic – an unrepentant sinner who left behind more than stories. He left a legacy of raw, unfiltered experience.
And in that truth, brutal and brilliant as it was, lies the enduring impact of a man who walked his own line – straight, armed, and never afraid to pull the trigger.
Mark grew up in the heart of Texas, where tornadoes and extreme weather were a part of life. His early experiences sparked a fascination with emergency preparedness and homesteading. A father of three, Mark is dedicated to teaching families how to be self-sufficient, with a focus on food storage, DIY projects, and energy independence. His writing empowers everyday people to take small steps toward greater self-reliance without feeling overwhelmed.