Anthony,
I honestly don't remember. My parents started taking me when I was 4 years old, since my mother hunted ducks also, and no babysitter would come over to the house at 3:30 in the morning...they sat me on top of the blind wearing a camo headnet and told me to sit still and tell them if I saw any ducks...no shooting for me then! But I think it taught me to sit still and appreciate watching everything that went on.
I know I carried a .410 when I was 6-7-ish. Since we hunted the Mississippi River primarily, I'm guessing it was probably a bluebill.
I killed my first mallard in Arkansas, and it may well have been my first duck. In the 1970's and early 80's, my parents would drive down to Stuttgart over the Thanksgiving holiday to visit some family friends. The first year they went, 1976, they went down by themselves. The next year, they took me (7) and my 6-month-old sister. I remember we hunted an evening in a ricefield with mallards and pintails all around...the adults were shooting, and finally they let me shoot a single mallard drake that lit not too far away, right at the end of the evening. That night, the tail curls got sewn onto my Jones-style hat...
Those were some golden years...I saw more ducks in Arkansas in one day than we saw in a season on the Mississippi. Killing limits of ducks (point system...mallards at 25 points for the drakes and 70 or 75 for the hen, pintails, widgeon, teal all 10 points apiece...) by 7:30-8:00 and the host apologizing it took so long...the truly legendary Arkansas timber hunting...