“Having a gun” is, indeed, a good idea if you need one. People who carry guns for defense (or even sometimes because they have to, like cops), often default to the easiest, most comfortable way possible. It’s only natural to get lazy when it comes to something you do constantly, almost automatically. But it’s not always smart. Ankle holsters fit into that category, and I fit into that profile of being lazy — at least in the past.
During my entire police career, if I had long pants on I had an ankle gun on — all the time, every time. I always had a back-up gun of some sort. Several officers saved themselves because they used their back-up guns to shoot a thug off of them. If I had shorts on working the Harbor Unit, I had an NAA .22 Magnum mini-revolver, a lightweight J-Frame or, believe it or not, a cut-down Charter Arms Bulldog .44 Special (oh gosh, that wasn’t authorized, but I’m retired so can admit it now) hiding in a front pocket .
But what I’m embarrassed about is I often — even usually — wore either that J-Frame or the Charter in an ankle holster off-duty, as my primary gun. During my time as a reserve in the 1970’s, and during my early San Diego PD career later, the game was the same. But in retrospect, I’m not convinced my carry method was a sound idea. Yes, I didn’t violate the “have a gun” thing, but to get to it required a judicious application of bodily contortions. Fast? Not in the least. As a matter of fact, it was slow and often sort of fumbly to draw it.
If you’re right-handed you wear the gun on the inside of your left ankle. Then to draw, you kneel, dropping your right knee to the ground, your left leg bent as you claw your pants hem up, hopefully clearing the top of the gun’s grip, then yank the gun out. Meanwhile, don’t forget, you’re not exactly mobile in this pose, so you need to engage the bad guy while kneeling, or jump back to your feet and go to work. Hopefully the bad guy(s) have been so amazed by your grace and fluid movements they have paused to watch you.
Sometimes, if my Spidey-sense was activated, I’d sort of pause behind a car when walking out into a dark parking lot, lift my left ankle and, leaning on a hood while I drew the gun, slip it into a coat pocket while I entered the “bad guy” zone. Once in my car, I’d stuff it back into the ankle rig. Which, by the way, isn’t always easy. But a plus is when driving, if you keep your pant’s hem above the grip, it does make a convenient “driving” holster. You just reach down and presto, you’ve got your gun in your hand. Just remember to pull your pants hem back down.
Security can be an issue too. Cross your leg and the world sees your gun. Mas Ayoob says to pull your sock up over the whole thing and that works, but can get uncomfortable. Also, some holsters aren’t very secure. During my early police career I had a leather, thumb-snap ankle holster. While on a spirited foot chase one night, I saw a shiny object suddenly appear at eye level, flipping over and over. I watched it, wondering what sort of UFO it was as the street lights glinted on it as it spun. Then it dawned on me — it was my stainless S&W Model 60 dancing in front of me. In one of those “I can’t make this stuff up” moments, I snatched it out of the air, stuffed it into a pocket and kept up the race. After the dust settled I figured it out. I had kicked my ankle holster with my off-foot, efficiently unsnapping the thumb break, allowing the next running step to launch the gun into orbit in front of me. Oops.
It was soon after, I discovered Renegade’s “virtually impossible to lose a gun out of” ankle rigs and have worn them or their modern iteration ever since that day, some 35 or more years ago. Today, you can get the same rig from www.thewilderness.com, still called the Renegade, and please use it with my blessings. But I get ahead of myself.
