Meet Johnny Dronehunter. Defender of Privacy.
This was a promo for SilencerCo’s shotgun silencer, but really, we’d sit for 90 minutes of Johnny blowing the $#!+ out of drones for God, Country, and the 1st, 2nd and 4th Amendments.
Meet Johnny Dronehunter. Defender of Privacy.
This was a promo for SilencerCo’s shotgun silencer, but really, we’d sit for 90 minutes of Johnny blowing the $#!+ out of drones for God, Country, and the 1st, 2nd and 4th Amendments.
The Artillery Luger has been troubling us with unreliability lately, and Kid really wants to shoot it. So we have to trouble-shoot it first, and with Lugers that seems to be equal parts art, science, and Santeria. (Of the Germanic, Vulcan-logic variety, of course). We don’t think this thing will be cured with a single laying-on of hands and in a single post, but we try nonetheless. Not our hands, at least, and if we will pray for something from His hands, we’ll save that prayer for something bigger than a troublesome toggle.
(Note: we’re having trouble loading images this morning. Please stand by).
First, let’s say a few words about what an Artillery Luger is. It was really the first Personal Defense Weapon, to use modern terminology, of the automatic-weapons era. The Germans never called it an “Artillery Luger,” by the way; they called it, with classically Teutonic lyricism, a Lange Pistole 08 or Long Pistol of 1908. The pistol had a roughly 8-inch barrel, a rear sight modeled on that of a Mauser rifle with a wildly optimistic 800-yard gradient on it, and a number of other unique parts that appear at first glance to be ordinary P.08 parts but aren’t. (One suspects that they The LP.08 also was issued with some notable accessories, including, on a 1:1 basis, a holster that was backed by a board that formed a detachable shoulder stock, making the weapon a handy carbine. The holster rig includes a shoulder strap and a pouch for two spare magazines — after 100 years, surviving holsters tend to be dry, brittle, and sometimes shrunken. The other accessory that truly completes this pre-James Bond rig is the 32-round “snail drum” magazine, which, to quibble, isn’t a true drum like that of the TSMG or PPSh, but more a coiled stick magazine. In this case, the misnomer is German in origin: they called it the Trommelmagazin 08.
“Artillery Luger with Snail Drum” is how it’s known today, andeveryone will know what you’re talking about.
The magazine and stock will fit on most Lugers, but the ATF only exempts the Artillery and Naval Lugers (and a few even rarer variants) from NFA. Attaching the stock to an ordinary P.08 is a rather serious NFA violation, “Manufacturing a short-barreled rifle,” and ATF would rather pursue that against you than try to, say, interdict instead of facilitate Mexican cartels’ gun supplies. (Cheer up: they once expected Luger owners to register the guns under NFA, or grind the stock lugs off, so on this, they’ve actually improved in the last sixty years or so). The last time an Artillery Luger was used in a crime is not recorded.
(Without the stock, the magazine merely adds weight and complicates the balance of a Luger. We’d guess that everyone in the very small minority of owners of these guns that actually shoots them tries it like that once, just to be gangsta, with nobody watching. “Look at me, I have a drum mag in my pistol, eat lead, target!” And then never does it again, because it’s murder to hit anything like that, and nothing takes the joy out of shooting as fast as missing does).
Starting in 1914 these long Lugers were issued as rifle replacements to soldiers who needed a weapon only for short-range self-defense. The first of these were the German Imperial artillery units, and that’s what gave this pistol its common name. By war’s end they were used by the first Storm Troops, small, heavily-armed units trained and equipped for rapid, mobile warfare in the trench environment, as well as their usual PDW employment. After the war, a number remained in Weimar military and police use (these will be marked with “1920” over the original date in the chamber area of the slide). A number came back to the USA as war trophies, and many more were imported and sold. Prior to 1968, the imports didn’t have to be marked by the importer, so most Artillery Lugers in the USA lack any import markings.
While Lugers were manufactured in modern factories for the time, they are a complicated and intricate mechanism, and almost all metal-on-metal interfaces on the Luger were hand-fitted. Some parts, such as the trigger mechanism, were extensively hand-fitted. This means that on a non-matching gun, you’re at the mercy of the smith who swapped the parts in the first place. Well, you hope it was a smith; if it was just a drop-in of mismatched parts, there’s still gunsmithing ahead to make the Luger run. On some guns, “matching parts” is of concern only to collectors, but on a Luger they’re a signal flag that the gun was, at one time, anyway, carefully hand-fitted.
Our copy is matching, but was long ago professionally reblued (although not a restoration), erasing much of its collector value. However, we’re less Luger snobs than Luger fans who like to shoot the Heath Robinson things, and for us it’s always been a reliable shooter — until recently. Recently it’s gotten a bit truculent about cycling.
There are four FIrst Things in Luger troubleshooting:
And of course, the gunsmith’s version of the Hippocratic principle (“First, do no harm”) is always in mind. We try to do the minimum to the gun and avoid permanent or hard-to-reverse alterations. Because, Bubba. And the Weaponsman Principle (“Don’t be that guy.”)
With those principles and constraints in mind, first we tried the good old GI method: how much lubricant can a firearm absorb and not be too slippery to grip? Then we wound up having an adventure simply going to the range. Turns out, Ye Olde Weaponsman’s membership in this range had lapsed. (Guns are our thing. Paperwork, not so much). Then, the old SS chose to give up its GhoSSt on the way home. Basic troubleshooting availed us not, so AAA sent a ramp truck for the last half mile, and our local carsmith is hooked it out of here yesterday. Oy. So we don’t know yet if the drench-it school of lube has made Old Unfaithful faithful again.
We kind of think not; that would be Too Easy, although the fact that the gun worked until recently suggests that it’s failing because something changed, and level and viscosity of oils is something that’s constantly changing.
So, for the time being, we went to Plan B, which is to do some mechanical training on the Luger, and look for anything anomalous (we had found nothing on the pre-range inspection). We recall thinking, “this will not end well,” but we dismissed the thought and did not go get the mismatched beater Luger instead. And we walked Kid through the intricacies of assembling and disassembling the Luger, with no more trouble than the occasional Luger part imprinting itself on the hardwood floors. He is the only kid in his high school with hands-on time with an Artillery Luger, he thinks, and he’d be the envy of all his friends if he talked about the guns we have at home, which he does not.
And at this point, we’re going to wrap for the morning, in order to get on to other things. But Kid did find an anomaly in the Luger that caused some intermittent friction. To be continued!
This post is a response to a perhaps deservedly snarky comment that was posted to to a recent post on how the Army, mirabile dictu, is actually training smarter for a change.
And BTW, have they done anything to fix those asinine plastic targets, which once the center is shot out, won’t fall no matter how many times you miss right through the center of the gaping maw?
Like perhaps stringing their inventor up by the man-giblets with comm wire?
We had experienced the same thing… Hollow Harry, the Silhouette Who Would Not Die. You see, the M30/31 target stands lower the targets when they “feel” a bullet impact on their mounted silhouttes. No impact, because your bullet passed through the foot-square hole at center of mass, no target drop, no credit towards your Expert badge. It wasn’t fair, but then, what is?
And so we wondered — what is the wear-out standard for a well-ventilated pop-up silhouette?
Well, it turns out, Uncle Sam has a manual for that. It goes by the thrilling title of Operator, Organizational, Direct Support and General Support Maintenance Including Basic Issue Items List and Repair Parts List for Small Arms Targets and Target Material. If that’s too much of a mouthful, just memorize FM 9-6920-210-14 (USMC FM 6920-14/4). But despite the unwieldy name, it addresses our problem — sort of.
In Change 3, from 1986, they say:
OCR’ing that, and cleaning up the fringes, we get (and call out in bold for emphasis):
Page 5. Paragraph 2-2a.1 is added after 2-2a:
2-2a.1 Plastic Targets (Polyethylene).
The usage and selection of the plastic targets, listed under Miscellaneous Equipment in appendix B, are as directed in paragraph 2-1, above. Plastic targets are plastic silhouette targets kneeling type E, 12002896 (2, fig. B-54) and plastic silhouette targets prone type F, 12002899(1, fig. B-54).
These plastic targets are primarily used for M16/M16A1 rifles and M30/M30A1 and M31A1 target holding mechanisms.
Plastic targets will be replaced only when they have deteriorated through usage (bullet holes) to a condition where they cannot give suitable service.
Page 5. This note is added after 2-2a .1
Note. Plastic targets are listed in accordance with appendix B. Refer to section III in the description column under heading “Miscellaneous Equipment” for the item and exact quantity issued for each separate plastic target National Stock Number.
So the official “word” is pretty vague, and the concept of “suitable service” is likely to be pretty elastic, tracking training-aids budgets more accurately than it tracks the condition of the actual targets. Paragraph 2-1, mentioned above, is mere lawyer’s boilerplate, demanding that all targets be used in accordance with safety rules and Army and local regulations. Paragraph 2-2 is where the different types of targets and their uses are defined.
You can find a scroungy scan of a scroungy copy of this manual on Google Books, and download the .pdf there.
ATK, a major defense and ammunition firm, likes to support the NSSF and the shooting sports. When they heard that the ongoing tightness of rimfire ammo supply was threatening Rimfire Challenge matches, they acted in the way you might expect, knowing the above, and that they’re the largest rimfire ammo manufacturer, under their CCI brand:
Adding to its Platinum-level support for the NSSF Rimfire Challenge program, ATK Sporting also will participate in the Rimfire Challenge Ammo Roundup, which will help ensure the program’s target shooters have a reliable source of ammunition.
The Rimfire Challenge Ammo Roundup will serve as a fulfillment center for match directors to purchase ammunition for events.
The company will provide 600,000 rounds of CCI rimfire ammunition to the Ammo Roundup program.
“Action rimfire sports like the NSSF Rimfire Challenge are paving the way for a whole new generation of shooters,” said Ryan Bronson, Senior Manager of Conservation and Public Policy at ATK Sporting Group. “We are happy to provide CCI ammunition to help support a program that is promoting exciting and safe trigger time for both the new shooters and folks that have been shooting for years.”
The Rimfire Challenge was the Ruger Rimfire Challenge until Ruger bowed out, claiming it had gotten to big to handle, and risking the future of the matches — sponsorless, they couldn’t survive. NSSF stepped in and the Challenge continued seamlessly.
The Rimfire Challenge combines .22 rifles and pistols, new shooters, and steel-plate targets to make appealing and fun matches. Here’s an FAQ in .pdf form. Here’s a schematic of a typical stage:
The shooter and’s with a firearm loaded, aimed at the start steak. On audible signal here she begins to engage the plates, usually in any order, except for the stoplight. The stop plate is engaged last. (If you shoot it first, “stage over” and you’re going to do lousy on points). The scoring is based on the time to hit all the targets plus any penalties (penalties are assessed for each miss, encouraging accuracy).
The stages are relatively easy and that, and the audible clang of slug on steel, makes them rewarding for a new shooter. It would have been a shame if they ran out of ammo. Well done, ATK!
It is our considered opinion that you should not use this product. Last SF company before retirement bought 90 or 100 of them circa 2003 (an SF company has 84 officers & men if at full strength, plus operational floats) and we discovered the same thing everybody else has: the Serpa has three serious safety-of-use problems, either of which alone would be enough to recommend retiring and destroying the holster and using anything else. Even Mexican carry.
We understand why the Serpa holster was designed. Pistol retention is a serious problem for anyone that tangles hand to hand with hostile persons. The police are more likely than armed forces to throw down mano a mano, but any soldier or Marine in ground combat can wind up in that place, the good old unsought fist fight or grapple-for-the-gun game. Many police forces, and some military units, specify a retention holster for just that reason. But there are a number of ways to design a retention holster. There are three reasons that the Serpa is the wrong way:
The Serpa does provide positive retention — sometimes too positive, especially if grit, sand, gravel or mung in general gets into it. If it gets into the retention release mechanism, Jesus Christ Himself isn’t getting that thing open. That’s rather a problem, because if you’re like us, you don’t generally go to unholster a gun until the situation has already gone uncomfortably nonlinear. The only thing worse than pulling your gun too soon is pulling it too late. The only thing worse than pulling it too late is attempting to pull it, and then failing to pull it at all, after signalling that you were going to. This problem by itself should be enough to disqualify this holster family.
No matter how much you drill, the trigger-finger release is going to be slower than some of your other options. Worse, it’s going to be less consistent, because from time to time you may address the holstered firearm a little differently, and it doesn’t take much change in alignment to miss the flipping catch. If you miss the catch, you have to grope around, all while the clock is ticking. There are holsters that don’t make you do all this, so this problem by itself, also, should also suffice to disqualify this holster family.
This is the biggest Serpa problem that people talk about. By using your trigger finger to disconnect the gun, and then having that finger fall on your trigger you great we increase the odds you’ll touch off a round with the pistol aligned somewhere other than at the proper target.
This video (NSFW but understandable language) shows an experienced shooter having a very typical Serpa ND. In the slo-mo at about 0:57-59 you can see exactly how it happened.
In this case, there was a combination of negative transfer of training from the more conventional 5.11 holster that this shooter used with another pistol, and the Serpa putting his index finger too close to the projectile initiator, too early in the draw sequence. Tex says he doesn’t blame the holster, he blames himself; fair enough, you can’t have an ND without human input. But his tools made the ND easier, instead of raising obstacles to an ND.
As we’ve said, every one of these issues is serious enough to warrant discarding the Serpa holster (and any holster that works like it, with an index-finger release paddle). But the increased ND risk with the Serpa is, in our opinion, the most consequential of these issues and the one that, even if you dismiss the other two, needs to sink in before you have a mishap like Tex’s.
We’re not sure even he knows how lucky he is. Mere inches from the channel that .45 slug dug in his thigh is one of the superhighways of the circulatory system, the femoral artery. A bullet in that artery would have led to his incapacitation in minutes, and ultimately, death, unless the right first aid was available extremely rapidly. He seemed to us to be alone on the range. How often have you shot, alone? It’s a calculated risk.
Doing it with a Serpa makes the calculation all wrong.
We aren’t the only ones who just say no to Serpa. For example, Paul Howe wrote in 2005:
Another problem … a recent student …. exerted excessive pressure from his trigger finger to the unlock button and when drawing the weapon, drug the finger along the holster and into the trigger guard, discharging the airsoft weapon prematurely into his leg during his draw sequence.
Trigger fingers are just that, for the trigger. I think it should remain straight and have one function, to index the trigger.
I have banned for almost two years now Serpa style (trigger finger paddle release) holsters from my classes – several other instructors and training facilities have done the same. …. I understand many shooters use Serpa holsters on a regular basis with no issues whatsoever. However an open enrollment class environment has its own set of challenges … and a trigger finger paddle release holster is asking for trouble.
At this point, pistol-training.com is going to follow the lead of other instructors such as Larry Vickers and ban the SERPA (and the various cheap knockoffs on the market) from classes beginning in 2012. I have been suggesting to students that they bring something else to classes up until now and will continue that for anyone who is already registered for a class in 2011.
And earlier that year, in reference to the Tex Grebner accident video posted above:
[T]he SERPA retention mechanism certainly lends itself to such accidents more than most other holsters. Instead of keeping your trigger finger well clear of the gun during the initial part of the drawstroke, the SERPA and its clones require you to press your trigger finger toward the trigger as you draw.
A lot more instructors say about the same thing. Travis Haley, Chris Costa, and a lot of guys you never heard of but that have seen these things cause one problem after another even on what should be a routine flat range. Rational Gun has a list of some of them, but Google will find you even more. (For example, RG has a link about the FLETC ban, but we don’t believe he mentioned the IDPA ban on the Serpa).
Yet this thing is still on the market, and people (and worse, agencies) are still buying them. Don’t Be That Guy™.
Frank Miniter writes in the normally anti-gun Forbes magazine with a remarkable business story — a profile of the way the spirit reduced to a few handwritten lists, recited with the faithfulness of a cloister’s vespers, animate a business in our industry: Crimson Trace, the maker of compact lasers and laser handgun grips, like the one on the Glock at right. A taste:
There are two handwritten lists on the sheet of notebook paper. They are written in black ink on a sheet of paper torn from a legal pad in 1994. He tells me he used to read these aloud with his business partners—mostly engineers—every morning. Small edits show it was tweaked and added to until they thought it perfect. So perfect, he says, they got so they could say the numbered lists without the piece of now crinkled and smudged paper. When that happened Lew put the lists in a frame and tacked it on the wall.
Under the title “Our Mission: What it’s going to feel like” is:
1. Our futures are financially secure
2. We all own part of everything
3. Work is fun
4. Our tools and equipment are topnotch
5. Our customers love us
6. Our building and property are impressive to say the least
7. We own other profit-making corporations
8. Our profits are at all time highs
9. Our competition cannot touch us
10. We are moving forward into the future
Lew proudly says these ten hopes and dreams aloud to me as he did every morning with his team for years.
Miniter seems to have lasered in on something that is of bedrock importance to the Wilsonville, Oregon company. While the first list describes how the founders of the company intended to wind up (and did), a second and perhaps more-important list was titled, “How do we get there?” and comprises 11 more rules. (To read it, you’re going to have to click over to Frank’s article and Read The Whole Thing™, which you know you wanna do anyway).
And here’s founder Lew Danielson’s ideas about why these rules are about people, not things; and how it influences hiring:
The rules to run a business by must deal with people, not products. This is because people create the products. When I hire someone, and I still interview everyone, I ask them about their hobbies and passion. I want to know them as a person—I figure if they made it to my office others have already vetted their resumes. When I ask someone if I can count on them and they get these misty eyes and tell me they better believe I can, well, then I know I have a loyal and passionate part of the Crimson Trace team.
Frank Miniter has far more information about the culture of Crimson Trace and the character of its people packed into his column. We’d tell you you-know-what, but we already did, right?
You’ve all seen the scene from one of the Jurassic Park movies: the dinner-seeking dinosaur matches it’s background so perfectly, and blends in so perfectly, that it seems to vanish. This is a type of camouflage called background–matching (called “color resemblance” in Cott’s 1940 classic, Adaptive Coloration in Animals), and while it’s a bit speculative in dinosaurs, it’s been used for millennia by other animals — and may be used in the future by humans. We’ve seen it before in a Bond movie, too: the invisible Aston Martin.
Now see it with cube-shaped boxes on various settings around the MIT campus in Cambridge, MA.
Background Matching (“color resemblance”) is one of a very few broad methods of using color to conceal. The others are obliterative shading (countershading), disruptive coloration, and shadow elimination.
In the real world, how would such adaptive camouflage work? Andrew Owens of the MIT Computer Science and Artificial Intelligence Laboratory et al. have conducted a study (.pdf) that tested a couple thousand people on 37 iterations of algorithmically developed camouflage. The camo tried to hide a cubic virtual box, and Owens and the team used six different algorithms to try to make the box disappear from multiple angles.
The results of the test can be restated simply:
We may have failed at the “restated simply” task, but we gave it a shot. For a deeper understanding, or just to have the experiment explained and the conclusions restated complexly, do Read The Whole Thing™, and check out the lab’s page about the camo project, and MIT’s press release, which talks up the pros of camouflaging HVAC and other systems hardware in otherwise historical or natural place.
We, of course, saw the military utility foremost, but then, we are knuckle-dragging widowmakers and all that.
This is enabling research that will lead in due course to adaptive camouflage. Yes, an M1A1 or Stryker or MV-22 has far more facets that Owens’s cubes, and the technology to cover those vehicles economically with conformal displays for camo purposes has yet to make it out of the lab. But this paper is an important step (not a first step, of course, because the authors build, as ever in science, on prior work) towards the translation of this capability along the RDT&E chain from concept, to science, to engineering.
Along with Owens, Professor Bill Freeman, and visiting student Alex Flint from the MIT CSAIL, the team included UVA graphic-computing expert (and inventor of Photoshop tools) Connelly Barnes, and Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute imaging & robotics researcher Hanumant Singh.
Note also that the paper has some useful stuff for those who want to understand how camouflage works and how to make it work better, in the bibliography and footnotes.
We’re suckers for the video of industrial processes, and there’s probably no process in the arms industry more automated, specialized, or cost-sensitive as the production of .22 rimfire ammunition. A crew from the Outdoor Channel spent some time at CCI in Lewiston, ID (which we didn’t know before, is across the river from Clarkston, WA) shooting video of the process from sheet brass and molten lead to a pallet of packed ammo on the loading dock.
CCI’s plant produces 16 packed pallets a day, 4 million rounds of .22LR.
And then it all goes to some guy in Ottumwa who is hoarding it all, apparently.
Some of the steps are surprisingly manual, even repetitious steps. One wonders if there’s a more automated way to do some of the manual steps they do. But they may be at an inflection point where the capital expense of further automation has such a long payback tail that it can’t be justified. Also, having a human in the loop may be a benefit if one of the things you need is flexibility. Humans are kind of “software-defined” as process steps go: they’re easily reprogrammed to do something different. The sort of analog machinery you see on this production line? Not so much.
This is a great photo by a Marine photographer, taken this month in the sky above our forgotten expeditionary force in Afghanistan. Official caption below; we want to say a few words about the helicopter, and the gun.
U.S. Marine Corps Lance Cpl. Matthew Ghibaudi performs a weapons check from inside a UH-1Y Huey helicopter before providing aerial assault support for ground convoys in Helmand province, Afghanistan, May 3, 2014. Ghibaudi, a crew chief, is assigned to Marine Light Attack Helicopter Squadron 369. U.S. Marine Corps photo by Sgt. Frances Johnson
We came to this via BLACKFIVE.
The Marines are the only service still flying the 1950s-vintage H-1 Huey and 1960s-vintage H-46. But their Hueys have been rebuilt, zero-timed in fact; the airframes born as UH-1Ns were a twin engines (the Sea Services always wanted this for over-water reliability) version, unlike the Army’s old single-turboshaft H-1s (the Army equivalent being the UH-1D/H). Supposedly, 100 or so of the Y models are rebuilt Ns but the Marines have found it more economical to buy all-new airframes than to pay for Bell to disassemble, evaluate, repair and restore clapped-out N airframes, so a lot of these are all-new birds.
The UH-1Y and its sister, the AH-1Z, also have a fully articulating all-composite four-blade rotor system in place of the much simpler two-blade teetering rotor of the H-1, which inherited its rotor system, conceptually at least, from the 1940s-vintage Bell 47. The new rotor eliminates some of the low-G limitations and safety issues (look up “mast bumping”) of the original Huey rotor system. The old bird was safe within its flight envelope, mind; the new one just has a larger envelope.
In the ones based on old airframes, the airframe is gone through, of course, to ensure that it is safe for many more strenuous combat hours, and the powerplant is something a Vietnam Huey driver can only envy.
The gun is also an update of an old classic — the John Browning .50 machine gun. The “old” door gun was the M60D, and rather than go to the M240 the Marines stepped up and used the latest version of the WWII- and Korean-vintage ANM3 aerial gun. Gun guys in all services have long known that the parts of M2 and M3 Brownings, and aerial and ground Brownings, have a high interchangeability, making almost all imaginable crossbreeds, variations, and Frankenguns real possibilities — at least, once you get into the war zone and away from the ordnance and supply clerks.
The M3 was an improvement over the Browning M2 (blasphemy!) for aerial and counter-air use. The M3 made a number of changes to allow operation at much higher rates of fire than the M2 in its aerial or ground versions; these changes included a lighter bolt and recoiling parts, much larger and oil-less buffer, relocation of the depressors from the backplate to the sideplates, and an improved, and more positive, feed mechanism that grabs the round front and rear, and can accept belts or chutes. The nominal rate of fire for the WWII ANM3 was 1200 r/min — really rocking for a closed-bolt-firing machine gun. It was available in a flexible model and (more commonly) in a fixed model, where it armed aircraft like the P/F-51 Mustang, the P/F-80 Shooting Star, and the F-86 Sabrejet.
Sole-sourced from FNH USA, the M3M, or GAU-21/A as the Navy terms it, adds a sophisticated soft-mount for the gun and numerous improvements. It replaced an M2-derived gun, the XM218 or GAU-16/A, which had evolved towards the M3 and had a mount of its own. There are many small improvements in the gun, but the big one is that it fires from an open bolt, eliminating cooking off as a potential hazard. The barrel life is claimed to be 10,000 rounds. The M3M soft-mount also recovers the fired brass, eliminating any risk of foreign object damage, and can be fitted with night vision equipment. The spade grips are attached not to the unsprung gun, but to the buffered mount, making the gun easier to control. The improvements of the M3M seem subtle over the XM218, but they add up to a far more effective weapons system. There is also a fixed version (the M3P) for use in gun pods; these pods are commonly mounted on, among other things, SOF H-60s.
The UH-1Y in the photo also is armed with LAU-68 rocket pods. Each pod carries 7 70mm FFAR (Folding Fin Aerial Rocket) unguided rockets. This rocket, originally known in Imperial units as the 2.75″ Mighty Mouse, has an interesting history of its own, as it originally was intended as an air-to-air weapon for 1950s jet interceptors (F-86D, F-89, F-94, homely and forgotten things, generally) hunting large formations of large Soviet bombers. But it long outlived the Tu-4 threat. Sine then, several generations of 70mm rocket and pod have been used by the US and its allies. A very wide range of rockets are available for helicopter and fast-mover use, and guided rockets are in the final stages of RDT&E. The LAU-68 allows ripple or single fire, but probably will need to be updated or replaced to support guided rockets, if they’re ever actually fielded. And for those occasions where you need to talk to a crowd, and fear that seven rockets may not get your message across, there’s the LAU-61, with 19 of the little beggars to show how much you care.
In this no-foolin’ great video, you see how AK-47 magazines are made, set to less-annoying-than-usual-for-YouTube music.
The crew file in to a hangar, which has industrial machinery set around its periphery (and is cleaner than we’d expect), and take their place at the machines. Here is the video; below it (although we really enjoyed watching this one on full screen) are the steps and the time hacks where you can see them, plus a few words on our impressions.
0:00 We start off in space and zoom in to Europe. Where are we going? East side of the Adriatic — inland — Bosnia! Northern Bosnia. (The manufacturer is the Matra Group, in Banja Luka, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and this is their promo video). Banja Luka is in the Republic of Srpska, a Serbian enclave whose origins lie in the troubles of the 1990s; The Matra Group shares an address with several other manufacturing businesses.
0:10 Workers in blue jackets file in. A sheet of metal stands waiting, ready to be fed into a press. Some wear blue baseball caps with a company logo, Kosmos (another of the businesses at this address, and possibly the parent of ). We see a brief shot of a digital readout scrolling.
0:27 Half a minute in, it’s mag-making time. Gloved workers carefully hand-feed a sheet of steel into a sheet-metal brake. It’s making the big, unwieldy sheets into strips that can easily be fed by one man into a machine.
0:50: On to a punch press. What’s it stamping out? Mag-half blanks. Here you see the classic curved shape of the AK mag for the first time, but it’s only a flat sheet.
1:10: The mag-half blanks are given a quick eyeball inspection and placed into a plastic tray. When the tray is full, they’ll go for further processing. It’s interesting just how manual the process is.
1:26: Another punch press (or maybe the same one with different dies?) is at once punching out and forming a bulge in parts that will clearly be mag followers. A worker has to feed a strip of steel by hand, and triggers the press with a foot pedal. The future followers are caught in a plastic tray, too. Note that everybody is wearing gloves — the edges of freshly stamped or punched parts are sharp! Despite the gloves, this plant would give an OSHA inspector the screaming willies.
1:47: Another press punches the holes or dimples in the sides of the follower that retain the magazine spring. (We skipped the process that bent the followers into a U shape). At 1:57, a worker gives the follower an eyeball inspection.
2:03: Next step, the blanks are carefully placed into a forming die, and the characteristic ribs of the AK mag are pressed into place. It looks like the locating pins for the die also help locate the magazine-half blank. Each die does two magazine halves simultaneously, side-by-side, a left and a right. Can’t tell from the video if there is one press that does two dies (four halves) at once, or two separate presses operating individually.
2:33: The worker removing the halves test-fits them together. From this angle it looks like there are two separate presses stamping the halves.
2:38: the halves are checked on a machined gage.
2:40: What’s this? A forge? We weren’t expecting that, but yes, a part of the AK mag is forged steel, it turns out. Workers remove a small, glowing steel billet from the furnace and place it, with tongs, into a forging die.
2:48: Wham! The part is forged. As a worker sprays and removes it, you can see it’s the tab on the back of the mag that engages the magazine catch. They dwell on this process for a while as it’s colorful and interesting.
3:00: A line of rough forgings have their final shape on the outside, but the mag-facing side has a lot off forging flash — all the mass of the billet that was surplus to the needs of the catch.
3:05: We see the first auto-fed machine, a Rube Goldberg contraption that is stamping out small blanks. These blanks will form the front magazine catch of the magazine, the point where it hooks in
3:20: Even this automated machine needs human tending. While the feed in is automatic, a worker stands by and winds up the scrap as it comes out of the machine.
3:38: Magazine lips are stamped out, fed, as usual in this factory, by hand.
4:08: The magazine rocker catch (front catch) is formed from the blanks we saw being punched out a 3:05.
4:15 (or so): The rear magazine catch forgings go into a press and have their forging flash sheared off.
4:38: A vertical milling machine, liberally spraying coolant, moves along a line of jigged magazine left-halves, surfacing them where they will fit into the rifle. The process is repeated for the right halves. We reckon the purpose of this is to ensure dimensional accuracy of the finished mag.
5:00: An enormous horizontal mill with a cutting disk trims a part to precise dimensions. Can’t make out what part this is under the coolant.
5:20: Vertical mill again. Can’t see what it’s doing at all, but it has an end-mill in it.
5:40: Spot-welding the magazine halves together. The jig, which provides rollers for the mag to move in relative to the single-point spot-welder, is ingenious.
5:42: another camera angle shows us the paired electrodes of the spot welder that welds the seam on the back of the magazine.
5:54: A single-point spot welder is used to attach: the nose cap and catch once in the frontal face of the mag (we see this operation from 4 angles); the same part, twice on each side;
6:07: Another single point welder adds the spot welds in the frontal aspect of the mag (inside the banana curve).
6:14: A special-purpose four-point spot welder welds the forged mag catch onto the rear of the mag.
6:17: Large array of bluing tanks.
6:24: freshly blued mag bodies.
6:30: We close with shots of complete mags and their components
These mags are interesting. Like Chinese magazines, but unlike most Eastern European ones, they only have two fore-and-aft reinforcing ribs at the base of the mag, and not three more ribs at the back. But unlike Chinese mags, they have the prominent back rib of all other steel AK mags.
Miguel adds, à propos the mags:
Over-engineered? Yes. But they last forever. Some years back, I bought a bunch of “rescued” AK mags from the Balkan conflict, some in what appeared to be really bad shape and with dirt and even rest of vegetation inside. Some naval jelly, elbow grease and Krylon later I had a whole bunch of perfectly functioning AK mags. Only two of them were not recoverable and that was because the metal of the body was out of spec. Still I ended up with 2 spares sets of springs, followers and base plates.
We’ve had similar luck, including making a simple die to force dents out of AK mags. But it practically takes an Act of God to dent them in the first place.
Because this AM post was late going up, we’re going to hold the 1100 post until 1400 to give this one some time to be seen on top.