THERE is no reason at all why Dick Plath, former US Navy submarine commander and veteran of Cold War confrontations with the Soviet Union, shouldn't take to pheasant shooting in South Worcestershire like a duck to water.

Because here is a lad, brought up in Reno, Nevada, whose target skill at naval college earned him "All American" status, an accolade given to only a handful of that very large nation's young guns.

It's just that All American Boys living the life of a country squire in England, complete with own shoot and gundog, are not 10 a penny.

Penny also happens to be the name of his wife, who as Penny Dowson, was the daughter of a Pershore farmer when the couple married at Elmley Castle in the spring of 1978.

The groom, somewhat unique for a South Worcestershire wedding, in his US Navy officer's uniform, and Berrow's Journal splashed the story across its front page.

So how come the boy from Reno ended up in the English countryside with the huntin', shootin' and fishin' set, an avid campaigner for country sports?

It's a colourful tale.

As a young man growing up in America in the 1950s, Dick knew that The Draft was coming. He also understood the value of a college education, so he opted for a pre-emptive strike that killed two birds with one stone.

He applied to join the US Navy and was accepted into the US Naval Academy at Annapolis, Maryland, beginning his four-year course in 1958 and graduating in June, 1962.

"I knew I'd get a good education and the navy was my preferred service," he explained.

"My father once told me he'd spent three years in the army sleeping in tents in rivers of mud, but when he sailed across to Africa, he slept between clean sheets every night. There wasn't much contest in my view." Dick had always shot since he was a youngster, usually game or vermin around the family home at Reno, and this natural talent came to the fore in the navy.

He was picked to shoot small bore for the Naval Academy team and in 1962 was selected an "All American", a national recognition given to only 10people each year from those shooting for universities across the country.

After leaving the Academy, he went for nuclear submarine training. In the following years Dick cruised beneath the ocean's waves on a series of Polaris and then fast hunter-killer submarines.

"I reckon I've spent well over five years of my life submerged," he said.

A typical Polaris patrol would last for two months with the sub carrying a crew of 115 men and 14 officers.

"The object was to keep the peace, to act as a deterrent and be ready to respond in case the Soviets decided to throw any of their nuclear missiles at the United States.

"We were also gathering intelligence. It was a game of cat and mouse with the Russians subs, which were also out there.

"There were a few incidents, but no submarine purposely rams another submarine. If you do, you're going to die."

Following nine Polaris missions, Dick switched to hunter-killer subs. He served on three and spent three years commanding his last, USS Skipjack, from 1977-1980.

His later years were spent on developing submarine tactics and in an extraordinary post at Nato Command HQ at Northwood, Middlesex, where in effect, he acted as air traffic controller for the Polaris submarine movements in the eastern Atlantic.

These involved the Americans, the British and the French, none of whom wanted the others to know where they were.

Dick finally retired from the US Navy in 1989 and by that time had been married to Penny for more than 10 years. They'd met back in 1977, after Dick's submarine pulled into Sardinia, where Penny had been selling property, and they were introduced by a mutual friend at a drinks party.

On retirement, they settled back home in Worcestershire, where Dick's first task was to complete their house on the family farm.

"I went from one day being a Captain in the US Navy to the next being a builder, a plumber and electrician in England," he laughed.

They also planted 11,000 trees on 25 acres, which have developed into a well designed small shoot.

When John Major's government brought in the handgun ban following the Dunblane tragedy, Dick was incensed.

"It was so pointless," he protested. "All it did was get rid of a few thousand legally-held pistols, while the number of illegally-held firearms has gone through the roof."

He became the British Field Sports Society shooting representative for Worcestershire and by the time Labour brought forward its Hunting Bill in an effort to ban the sport, the Plaths were firing on all cylinders.

Penny, a former member of the Croome Hunt, organised a Blessing of the Hounds service at their home and although the Bill eventually went through, both are now keen followers of the Leadon Vale Bassets, hunting legally, of course, with Dick the hunt treasurer.

It's a far cry from hunting for Soviet subs in the deep, dark oceans of the world.