1The Judge lowered the Garand to his lap, feeling dull and stupid.
2He was a year behind me at the Garand Academy, on a scholarship.
3He had settled the barrel of the Garand on his knee.
4The Garand was lying on the grass, its muzzle carelessly jammed with dirt.
5Had he gone for his Garand, he would be dead.
6The Garand barked as I fired down on the beast.
7He carried the Garand rifle in his left hand.
8The Garand went off with a giant thunderclap and jagged glass sprayed Bobby Terry's face.
9Garand is principal ordnance designer and assistant works manager of the government armory in Springfield, Massachusetts.
10The Judge was ponderously correcting his aim, swiveling the Garand perhaps two degrees on his knee.
11Pember recovered his Garand rifle, which had been left near the sentry box during the retreat.
12They were old M1 Garand rifles from WWII.
13He grabbed for the Garand leaning against the chair and turned to the window, ready for anything.
14Garand faces a fine of up to $29 million.
15The Garand was lying on the road.
16The Garand was beside him on the seat, the safety still off, a box of ammo beside it.