I had my full allowance of ammo, which a young constable wanted me to count , to which the Sergeant said something like, "Sit down Son, and watch while this gentleman gives up a life's sport in the quiet dignity he appears to be showing on the surface, and shup up."
The Sergeant was the perfect gentleman and went through the procedure.
As I watched by beloved Browning (carried as my PW when Navy Duties allowed) my Smith and Wessons and my Colts were placed in a plastic box.
I had cleaned them thoroughly and their condition was remarked on.
The young bobby obviously felt he had to say something. You could always send them to Belgium and go shooting there he said.
The Sergeant must have seen the look on my face and the seething anger in my body language for he said, putting a restraining hand on my arm.
Constable, you play golf don't you?" on receiving an answer in the affirmative he said, " Then why don't You
off to Belgium and play golf before we both do you some serious harm?"To say that it made me feel better would be a lie, it still hurts because of the way I was treated after serving my country for twenty five years without a blemish on my character and without demurr; by a goverment without honour or moral character.
But I did thank the Sergeant for the way he conducted the sad affair.
What is your one memorable moment of that sad day?
Just one of the reasons the pistol ban boils my urine 
