Now, for the moment of truth.
As I laid out in the OP, on opening morning my cousin Sammy and I set our decoys before sunrise and waited for legal light. Things started out slow, one or two here, three there, some high flyers yada yada yada. Then, about a half hour after sunrise all he'll broke loose. Left, right, in front, behind, landing on the fence among the decoys - it was crazy! Sammy and I banged away, hitting some, missing some.
In the madness and heat of the moment I reached into my shell pouc and loaded three more rounds. I took a shot at a bird crossing from right to left, missed it, pumped the empty shell and sh*t! The slide wouldn't close. I tried racking it again, and again, and one more time. Nothing. I looked in the open breech to see the two remains shells jammed head to head. No, not head to butt - head to head. In my haste to reload I somehow managed to feed the first shell in BACKWARDS! I put the second round in and racked it then fed the third round into the magazine, somehow forcing the brass base of the first round into the mag tube.
Okay. I worked the second round out of the breech with my pocket knife - a two bladed Smith & Wesson folder (Which ended up out in the field somewhere after I threw it as far as I could. More on that later) - and tried to gently pry out the inverted shell. No luck. So, I tried a bit more force. Nope. Hmmm. I know! I'll stick the blade in the shell by cutting into it lengthwise and wiggle/work it out. Yeah, that's what I'll do. Hmmm. The blade simply made a longer slit down the shell. Okay. I'll reverse the position and use the back of the blade instead of the sharp edge.
That's when I found out that the locking mechanism didn't lock so well and the son of a beach folded on me, just missing my index finger. Meanwhile, Sammy is banging away, knocking them down.
It became obvious that i' d have to perform a field takedown, so over to my truck for some tools. Except that my tool bag is sitting on the ground under the pole barn where I park my truck. On the ranch. Not Sammy' s ranch where we happen to be hunting. Nope. Back at my ranch 40 miles away. I had taken the tool bag out while loading other stuff for the hunt and forgot to put it back in the truck. Okay. No problem.
First, get the cap off. Check. Remove barrell. Check. Remove magazine nut. Check. Remove mag spring and plastic plug. Check. Now what.
Okay. Find something to put down the mag tube and tap out the stuck shell. No problem, there's a plastic clothes hanger that I can cut down. Done. Now, what am I going to use to tap the hanger with? (my thick head would have done the trick!) Aha! A pair of vice grips under the seat! Yeah!
Sammy pipes up and says "What about the primer? You don't want to be setting that off". No sh*t. Okay. I know. I'll use the flat end of the plastic mag plug. Great idea. Okay, let me get the hanger. Sh*t. Again. Sh*t. It's broken. Not long enough. Okay.
Hey! We're in an almond orchard! I'll use a branch from one of the trees! Yeah! Trim - very carefully with that defective knife - the twigs off so it's relatively straight and smooth. Done.
Drop the plastic plug flat end down into the mag tube so it's resting on the stuck shell. Drop the branch into the mag tube so it's resting on the plug. Tap it once, twice, three, times with the flat side of the vice grips and Viola! out pops the shell from the breech.
One more problem. That branch wasn't as straight and true as it should have been. I turned the gun upside down and nothing. It wouldn't drop out. That's where the Leatherman came in. There was just enough space between the walls of the tube and the branch to get the plyers on the Leatherman to juuuuust gran enough of the branch end and work it out of the tube.
I put the gun back together, put my tools away, threw that pos knife as far as I could, lit a cigarette, drank some coffee and shook my head, wondering how in the world I could have accomplished such a thing. Meanwhile, Sammy has his limit of ten birds.
If you told me that a 12 gauge shell would fit into the mag tube backwards I would have called you an idiot and questioned your gun knowledge. Ha! The joke's on me!
We called it a day and went on home. The evening hunt was uneventful comparatively speaking. The birds were just as thick and I got my limit. And another story for the upcoming deer camp campfire.
Y'all came pretty close to solving the riddle. The only part I can't figure out is how I was able to jam that shell in backwards. Adrenalin, I guess.
Oh, well. That's my 2016 dove season confession. As Bear Paw said: "GUILTY!"