Larry Vickers bans Appendix Carry in his classes. Some gunnies pissed.

In today's news, noted shooter Larry Vickers has just banned Appendix Carry in his classes, and it seems that a lot of people who know and have done a lot less with guns than he has are upset, at least per his facebook page.
His announcement:

Heads up for anyone attending a pistol class taught be me - I am banning use of appendix carry holsters in my classes
I know of two different students in two different classes taught by two different instructors who have shot themselves reholstering - I don't want my name added to that list
If an individual wants to carry concealed that way that is fine by me but an open enrollment class with 15-20 different skill level shooters and upwards of 100 draws and reholsters is an accident waiting to happen when you add in a pistol like a Glock or M&P
This will go into effect immediately - if you are planning on attending a class in the near future and this affects you and you need a different holster please email me via my website and I will get you squared away
Thanks for your support
*Update; a number of people think this means I don't support appendix carry - that's not the case. You are free to carry however you want - however I feel in an open enrollment class is it not appropriate so therefore in the future I am not allowing it. If this means you don't want to attend one of my classes, or I'm 'scratched off your list as an instructor', or you won't buy anymore of my products ( all comments this thread) then that's fine by me - in my position all that goes out the window once one student shoots themself in the genitals - all the Facebook bickering in the world won't fix that

Appendix Carry, for those not familiar, is the concealment of a handgun inside the waistband directly in front of you. It has it's pros--concealability, controllability and speed of draw, but is also has it's cons: a negligent discharge while re-holstering is going to inflict a much more serious wound than one involving a hip holster. (Great article here.)

The argument is currently running "fast and furious" (with the exception of Eric Holder's participation in this version) on his site and he's taking on all comers who have an issue with it.

I don't.

To be fair, I'm not one of the Appendix Carry fans personally (nothing wrong with it...I just never took it up) but I know several people who carry that way and I trust and respect them and their abilities such that I'm never uncomfortable around them on the range or anywhere else. That said, Larry sums it up perfectly when he explains that his students and prospective students can do whatever they choose anywhere else, but in his class, it's his rules. And since it's also his liability insurance and his reputation, I think that's more than fair.

I also think that it's kind of punk for a few other instructors out there who are also well-respected in their own right to use this issue to take shots at Vickers, both on their own sites and on his own, as I've observed today a couple of times. (Names withheld to protect the guilty.) Come on, guys...we as gunnies can agree to disagree on tactics and I personally think that we should keep our disagreements out of the public eye. If you as a shooter or instructor like appendix carry--or SERPA holsters, or whatever--by all means use them, endorse them and instruct in the proper techniques if you're an instructor. But if you don't agree with a fellow instructor who thinks oterwise, let's not get into a public skunk fight. Shooters are still free to do what they wish on their own time and students are still free to choose which courses to take and which instructors to take lessons from.

Now personally, I like to take at least one new course from a different instructor each year, just to get the widest possible exposure to new and different concepts and skills (Come on, Aaron...we're running out of year here.) I'm still more than willing to take a course from Larry Vickers, because he's got cred and knows stuff, and I'm willing to take courses from other people of note who have different opinions and practices. In the end, more diversity in training puts more tools in your problem-solving toolbox and lets each shooter discover for him/herself what works best for them. In that regard, I find no reason for instructor vs. instructor pissing matches or the arguments from one-trick ponies about what should or should not be done. To that end, I support Larry Vickers' business choice and stand behind his decision, even should I at a later date decide to adopt appendix carry for myself.

Inadvertent Emergency Preparedness Drill. PASS.

So there I am the other night, sound asleep in bed. It's the early hours of the morning and full dark, both inside and out. At the foot of the bed, Murphy is asleep in his dog bed, no doubt dreaming of getting into mischief.

Suddenly I'm awakened by a noise. It was a faint noise, but it was something not natural to the Lair at zero-dark-thirty. Then I heard a voice talking quietly, followed by more sounds, as if someone was moving around.

Murphy hears it too. He's sitting up, taking his cue from me. He's growling softly, but not charging off through the house. Good dog.

In the dark, be feel, I pull my leg on, then swing out of bed and grab hold of my Remington 870 shotgun, the one with the Surefire light on the fore-end. When I get up, Murphy gets up and starts down the hall with me. I still hear the voice, only now it sounds like two people conversing. From the sound of it, I'm estimating that they're outside at the far end of the house. I'm also thinking that there's a good chance that it's neighbors or the police because they don't sound like they're trying to be very quiet now.

Then it dawns on me. I'd gone to bed hours ago after watching some live-feed video on line. Apparently I'd never disconnected from the streaming source after that video had gone dark and now the feed was active again, broadcasting live coverage of a political demonstration a long way away. It was those voices that I heard talking and in the background was heavy equipment knocking down barricades--the sound that I perceived here as things being moved around or people stumbling in the dark outside.

I sigh and make the shotgun safe, then sit down to watch the feed for a bit before going back to bed.

As I reviewed this, though. I realized that it had been an excellent test of my defense plans and ability. This wasn't staged; I was awakened from a dead sleep and really believed for a moment that there were real intruders present. From the look of it, Murphy did, too. So even though it wasn't a real threat and it was over in less than thirty seconds, I got to see first-hand how I respond to one, and all-in-all, I was pleased.

1. I heard the sounds and woke up.

2. I got my leg on in the dark and armed myself in less than ten seconds. I also knew what condition the shotgun was in because I've practiced enough with it over the years. I didn't have to check it or fumble with it--I was ready and able to use it without consciously stopping to think about it.

3. I know know that Murphy will also respond, but in concert with me and not by just running ahead barking his fool head off. He stayed close by me as I advanced, and other than his low growls, he stayed quiet. Good dog.

4. As I moved, I assessed. In looking back, I also moved tactically through two doorways as I've been taught, and I didn't lead with the weapon and make a gift of it to any bad guy who might have been waiting on the other side. I was just stopping at a place in the house where I'd have cover and good visibility of much of the rest of it when I figured out what the noise was. Again, this wasn't thought out as much as it was conditioned reflex built up from many hours of mental role-play and actual practice. I'd done this before as training (because I do train like this in my home, as should you) and I did it instinctively while still foggy without having to think about it on this night.

5. No one got shot. Not even the computer.

Yes, it was a mite silly being drawn out of my nice warm bed, but I got a real good look at how I will probably respond to a similar event in the future should one occur. And now I'm more confident that the response will be smooth and appropriate and that Murphy and I will at least start out as a team should it not just be the computer next time.

So do you have an emergency plan? And if so, when's the last time that you've physically or mentally rehearsed it?

Aim Fast Hit Fast course a must for serious gunnies

Blogging was light this past week-end because I, along with Aaron of The Shekel, were in Wilmington, Ohio Saturday and Sunday taking the Aim Fast Hit Fast class from Todd Green.

Class Description: Aim Fast, Hit Fast is intended to pick up where most marksmanship training ends. All shooting involves a balance between accuracy and speed. Off the practice range, a shooter does not get to choose how much time he will get to break a shot … shooting becomes reactive and speed is determined by the situation rather than comfort or habit. The goal of this class is twofold. First, to understand the critical balance between accuracy and speed for each individual shooter. Second, to improve each shooter’s ability to deliver accurate, rapid fire in shorter timeframes to maximize his effectiveness shooting a pistol under stress. Skills to be covered include marksmanship, presentation from the holster, reloads, multiple targets, and shooting on the move.

Instructor: Todd Louis Green has worked in the firearms industry since 1998, including instructing for the NRA Range, Beretta, and SIG-Sauer. He has over 1,000 hours of firearms and combatives training from such prestigious trainers as Ken Hackathorn, Ernest Langdon, Larry Vickers, SIG Academy, and Blackwater. A 3-time “Advanced” rated shooter at Rogers Shooting School, Todd is also a graduate of the NRA Tactical Pistol Instructor Development program and a 3 division Master-ranked IDPA competitor. Todd is a certified SIGARMS, Beretta, and Glock armorer; certified Simunition force-on-force instructor; and certified Emergency First Responder. He is also a long time member of IALEFI, IDPA, and USPSA.

First of all, massive kudos to Aaron, who kicked ass on the four F.A.S.T. drills during the class. He was smooth, fast and on-target with his Smith and Wesson M&P all week-end and he smoked me on all four of those drills, shooting three of the four completely clean (no misses).

The class consisted of much shooting. I think that we burned through a thousand rounds or maybe a bit more during the two days of shooting. This is not one of those classes where you sit around and listen to the instructor tell war stories or otherwise lecture you for hours. You shoot here, and you shoot a lot, and with the relatively small class broken down into two relays, it seems as if Todd is always watching you or standing next to you offering advice or helpful critiques. And the man knows his stuff. Everything that you're going to do, he does first, and his control of his pistol and his speed is something to see. Then he has you do it while he watches and troubleshoots your technique. The course was all about increasing shooter speed and accuracy, both of which depend in large part on a lot of small but important fundamentals and body mechanics. All of the shooting was done close-in, from three to seven yards, and the emphasis was on honing shooter skills to allow fast, precise repeatable hits on small target zones, with lots of reloading drills and some movement added. It's not a class for the novice, because you're expected to come in with some skills already lest you hold the rest of the class back, but it'll definitely help experienced shooters pick up both speed and accuracy and give you quite a few new tools to put in your skillset toolbox. I know that I learned some really good things this week-end, and that was despite me sucking up my own scores by repeatedly switching handguns the first day (don't do this) before settling on my Beretta 92F, which, truth be told, I only brought along on a whim, packing it at the last minute because I'd noticed in his CV that Todd used to shoot for Beretta and I'd hoped that he could give me a few tips and pointers on this pistol which I'd only bought due to it's personal history and which, until this course, I had only used as a test platform for my 9mm reloads. It's safe to say that I was never a fan of the Beretta 92 before, but after this class, my under-appreciated 92 is going to get some new magazines and a decent holster set-up.

But the lesson that I re-learned (because I really do know better) is bring one pistol that you're familiar with and current on, and don't mess with your tried-and-true carry set-up during a timed course; if you've always carried a particular firearm and worn a rig a particular way, making even small changes right before a speed drill is a bad idea. Again, I know better. But sometimes some of us apparently have to re-learn basic concepts the hard way. Ah, well...

That aside, I found the course to be very educational and the new techniques and tactics that I was exposed to were well worth the cost of the course and the trip to Wilmington, and it was even worth spending two nights in a hotel room with Aaron and his array of high-tech gadgets (I think that he said that it was a blackberry, or a blueberry or a strawberry...some kind of berry) that started to make beeping noises in the early hours of the morning, starting about two hours or so before we were supposed to wake up and repeating every twenty to thirty minutes or so, re-awakening me every time I'd managed to get back to sleep. Whatever that thing is, I suspect that it's related to Aarons's infernal GPS that routinely misdirects him (and me when I foolishly rely on him for directions) yet still has his unshakable trust for some reason. Did I mention lately that I'm allergic to anything more modern than an eight-track cassette player? Skynet's not gonna get MY ass, and I am not fond of going out into the black without an actual honest-to-God paper MAP that shows me all the roads, not just the solitary one that some electronic idiotbox decides to tell me about.

OK...deep breath. HAL 9000 is gone and I'm safely back in my own little low-tech world where I, not some device purchased at Best Buy, set my agenda and determine my fate. Life is good again. And Murphy was quite happy to see me even though I'm sure that he had more than a bit of fun being spoiled by my super-cool neighbors who watched him in the Lair all week-end.

Oh--and all you people in Ohio...that left lane on the highway is a passing lane. When you're in it, you're expected to pass the vehicles in the right lane, not drive along next to them with all those people from smarter states stacking up on your back bumper. Just saying.

Now back on track, if you're interested in taking this course--and I recommend it if you've already got some solid shooting skills and you want to improve them--you can find out more about Todd's upcoming class schedule and read reviews of his previous classes here. I went in as as open-minded skeptic, not knowing anything about Todd or his class except for the fact that Aaron chose it after reading about it on Tam's blog. I think that I told him more than once that "if this sucks, I'm gonna be pissed." But it did not suck. And by the first break on the first day of the class, I knew that we were into some good training. So Aaron (and Tam)...Thank you. And Todd...great class. I look forward to shooting it again. This time with just one pistol. Or maybe two.

Shooting

I hit the range today. Took two pistols out with me: The old police veteran Beretta 92, and the relatively new young pup--the Ruger LCP.


The Beretta was out for testing after I replaced the springs. It was, shall we say, less than reliable when I got it, and I shudder to think of some New Orleans police officer carrying it on duty in the condition that I received it in. Lots of failures to completely chamber rounds, resulting in no sound at all where there should have been a second "bang" in the double-tap.

But now that it sports new Wolff springs and has been thoroughly cleaned and oiled, it shoots like a champ, icky double-action first shot notwithstanding.

The little Ruger, still fairly new to me, was just along for the ride, but since I had practice ammo for it in the bag, I downloaded the carry loads and set it up for some practice scenarios (which basically involved loading it with the target loads and stuffing it back into my front jeans pocket).

The course of fire consisted of two paper plates, one above the other at approximate chest & head level, but since my range has a bunch of sissy pacifists as members, we can't call them that or imply that it's what they represent. I also took another target stand back 15 yards and set it up as a barricade to shoot around. Firing was three-shot strings, two to the ches--uh...the lower plate, and one to the upper plate. I kept moving so that each string was fired from a different location on the range, and when the Beretta ran dry, instead of a tactical reload, I transitioned to the Ruger in my pocket.

I've found that the Ruger tends to shoot low, so that if I want a point-of-aim hit, I have to elevate the front sight so that it's wholly out of the rudimentary rear notch sight. If I remember to do that, I have no trouble double-tapping the paper plate, provided that I don't get too far back from it. But then it was never meant to be a stand-off weapon and I knew that when I bought it.

Close-in (under ten feet) the Ruger does great. I can pull it out of the pocket, index it, and fire twice into the plate in about two seconds. From farther back, give me the Beretta any day (or better yet, my 1911).

And of course it wouldn't be good practice without a couple magazines fired support-hand-only. (That means if you're left-handed, using only your right, and if you're cursed enough to be right-handed, using your left one.) It's only natural that we tend not to practice those things which aren't much fun--like support-hand shooting, but it's also fairly common in real gunfights to take a round in your primary gun hand since bad guys--like the rest of us--tend to instinctively shoot what they're looking at, and odds are that they'll be looking at your gun and, by extension, the hand holding it. And this theory has been borne out in my own simunition training numerous times, and I have rarely gone a day of force-on-force simunition shooting without taking at least one solid hit to my gun-hand fingers (and usually several). Consequently, as a proud southpaw, I always try to fire a few rounds each time out with my right hand only. It doesn't feel natural, and I can't shoot the nice, tight groups that I'm accustomed to, but I've gotten to where I can put consistent hits on the target fairly quickly, and that's really the point of combat shooting. Shoot fast, shoot straight, move to cover, and always have a back-up plan for when things untwist.

Now get out there with your own sidearms and start switching mitts. And don't forget to practice one-handed reloading as well. Your life may depend on it some day and trying to figure it out for the first time while under the stress of a real shooting situation probably isn't going to work out too well.

Yay me!

With one final three-mile run last night, I met the final requirements for a President's Fitness Challenge Gold Medal.

I started this in October, 2008, just a week before I ran the Army Ten-Miler for the first time. Since then, I've kept track of time spent running, swimming, weight training, martial arts, cardio work and even walking. It's simple: Do the exercise then log in and plug in what you did and for how long. It keeps a tally and eventually you can earn awards. It's a great way to track your progress and at least in my case, it motivates me to get out there because I feel slack if I don't log some work every few days or so.

My proudest achievement: Per the records, since starting, I've logged 76 hours running. (Would that be 152 hours for someone with two legs?) At my average distance pace of 10 minutes per mile, that's 456 miles.

I also logged 17 hours of swimming and I can easily swim a mile now without stopping.

Lagniappe gets credit too, of course. I also logged all of our walks that were over half an hour in duration, and together we logged over 90 hours of walking and hiking, to include quite a bit of time spent on the Appalachian Trail and Maryland Heights across the Potomac from Harpers Ferry. If you've climbed to the Old Stone Fort as we've done numerous times, you'll know that the hike's no joke. We worked, and he earned his own Gold Ribbon, which is on the way along with my medallion. We celebrated last night with a glass of Bushmills for me, and a deer bone for him. Very happy.

Now that I've hit the Gold Medal on this program, I'm at a loss for something else to work on. I can't stop now, and I'm in search of another workout program. Any of you have any suggestions?

Training Day

It was 90 degrees in the shade today, and there was no shade at all on the range where I go to train.

I had the place to myself this morning, so that meant that I got to set up a real nice multi-position shooting course to run through. I put several 5-gallon pail targets downrange at various distances, from 10 meters to 90 meters (sadly, that's all the room there is here) and parked my truck perpendicular to the targets midway between a large rock on one side and an orange and white ex-construction barrel on the other side. A bit forward of this line--between the truck and the barrel--was a smaller dirt berm. Downrange of the barrel there was the remains of an old table that I put several empty drink cans on. They'd be my final targets. Then I set about to practice my cover and transition drills with the Uzi submachine gun, Remington 870 shotgun and H&K P7M13 pistol.

The drill ran as follows:

1. Starting from a seated position in the truck, exit the truck and engage two of the targets with the primary weapon (Uzi or shotgun).
2. Run to the rock. Taking cover behind the rock, engage two targets from there.
3. Run back to the truck. Kneel behind the tire and fire around the front bumper. Engage two targets.
4. Run to rear of truck and use it for cover while engaging two more target pails.
5. Run forward to the berm and go prone behind it. Roll out and engage any two visible targets left.
6. Get up, run back to the barrel, and drop the Uzi (it's on a sling) or set down the shotgun (it doesn't have a sling) and transition to the pistol. Using the barrel as cover, clear the table of the cans.
7. Reload as necessary during the run, but without stopping. If the primary weapon jams or goes completely empty before getting to the barrel, transition to the pistol and finish the course.

Sounds easy, right?

Hell...

Anyone can just stand and shoot static targets like drink cans, but when your heart rate is up and your chest is pounding, you're out of breath, and the sweat is just flowing down your face and into your eyes, hitting those same little cans can be a vexing exercise, indeed. Add in the heat and the rough terrain, and well...you've got reality staring back at you. And that's the idea; real-life gunfights don't take place on 15-meter indoor pistol ranges.

I ran this course eight times--three times with the Uzi, four times with the shotgun, and once with an M1 carbine. I stumbled once while running with the Uzi and fell on top of it, and I'm extremely grateful that Uziel Gal put a grip safety on that thing as the muzzle nailed me hard in my ribs when I hit the ground. (This is why we don't run with our fingers on the triggers, people.) But I got right back up again and finished the course.

With the Uzi and the carbine, there was just one mag change required midway through each run, but with the shotgun, I had to constantly strip rounds from the sidesaddle and stock tubes to top off the gun or feed through the ejection port as I ran. That's an essential fighting shotgun skill that few people practice adequately.

During the four shotgun runs, I fired 65 rounds of buckshot and slugs, and when I finished the last run, I actually burned my hand on the barrel, it was so hot. But those 870s, like the Uzis, just keep going.

Only twice out of the seven runs was I able to clean all of the cans off of the last stage with one shot per can. Every other times, I was shaking and muffed one or more. But that's why we train--to get faster, smoother and better.

When I finished, I went down to check out of the range. The desk staff was shocked to see that I was soaking wet and covered with sand. "What were you doing out there?" they asked.

My prosthetist asked the same question half an hour later when I showed up in his office for another "emergency" repair. Once again, I'd torn through the neoprene sleeve holding my leg in place by repeatedly kneeling and going prone on it. And once again, I was reminded that my leg wasn't designed for this sort of abuse. But until they come out with one that is, I guess I'll keep tearing this one up. Screw it--that's why I have insurance and plenty of spare sleeves and other parts for it at home. But for now, I guess that I probably should go out and try to find some knee pads that'll fit over it.

Oh well...other than a burned hand, a few cuts and scrapes, and some bruising in my ribs, I'm feeling great. Confidence is high.

So what'd you do today to make yourself a better you?

My lifesaving tools.

Just another Thursday

It's Thursday. Didn't do too much today. Dropped Lagniappe off at the vet for a check-up (told them to check the oil and rotate the paws) and then I went to the gym.

Still can't run. Tried a light run on the treadmill, but had to quit after two minutes when the pain started to ramp up. I learned my lesson a week ago--if it doesn't feel right, stop.
But it shouldn't be much longer--a few days at the most. I have a goal, and I'm so close!

So I lifted weights for a bit and swam a mile, then I went out to do some shooting. It's important these days to be doing some kind of training, both fitness and tactical...Obama's grand plans are liable to crash our economy and bring on all sorts of troubles and that damned Browning's not going move itself into position.

Then I picked Lagniappe up, bought a bottle of wine and some ice cream (I got this idea for some wicked Riesling floats...) and came back to the Lair.

We spent the rest of the day just relaxing and I finished reading a great book, Fighter Pilot, the story of the life of Air Force legend Robin Olds, as put together by his daughter Christine Olds and author and fighter pilot Ed Rasimus. If you like history or aviation, you'll have a hard time putting this book down. I know that I did. Seriously, get on Amazon.com today and get yourself a copy.



On the animal front, I saw what I believe to be my new snake again today, looking none the worse for wear at it peered out from between a couple of rocks and watched me trim a tree.

The other day, someone asked me what the difference is between a snake and a Democrat. Hell, that's easy. I'd never cut a Democrat out of a net.

And I'm guessing that there's going to be baby deer around here soon too, as I just saw a doe that's either pregnant as hell or else Rosie O'Donnell's been reincarnated as an Odocoileus virginianus. And since the deer didn't really look all that stupid, I'm guessing that fawns are on the way.

So now I'm thinking that this evening, before we try my new adult dessert experiment, Lagniappe and I will take a walk around the neighborhood for a bit, and I'll at least pretend to intend to clean a few guns and tidy up the Lair.

All in all, not a bad way to spend a Thursday. Hope yours is going well.

Shooting and stuff.

So I shot yesterday...Wow. Did I ever.

I got out to the range--this time a private range that's pretty much a dump where you're allowed to shoot up anything to you either find there or bring yourself--hoping to have the place to myself. Unfortunately, there were two other shooters there, a father and his teenage son. Worse, they were "Fudds"--the sort of people who think that their hunting guns are fine but your black rifle/military-surplus rifle/sub-machine gun, etc., are somehow bad. Of course I had all of those with me.

So how did I find out that these two were Fudds? It started with a race for the brass. Both of us got there at the same time, and immediately we saw that the ground was literally covered with fresh brass from what was obviously a heavy shooting week-end. And I'm a big-time brass-scrounger, as when I'm not shooting, I'm reloading. I started scooping it up, and dammit--so did they. No fair! I wanted it ALL!

So being a diplomat, I casually asked the father if he was a reloader. His answer: No, but he's planning on starting someday. Oh, great, I thought. Now I'm losing brass to some joker who is just going to squirrel it away. But sometimes it pays to keep talking, so I asked him what calibers he was looking for, and he replied that he wanted .40 S&W...just .40 S&W.

Well damn--that works for me. I want the rifle brass, the .45 and the Magnum pistol stuff. So I scooped up a few .40 cases and handed them to him. He was pleased and asked me what I wanted. I told him, and before long, the three of us were scarfing up all the cases, and I gave them all the .40 stuff and they gave me everything else. And since there was much more non-.40 and two of them picking, I came out way ahead on that deal.

Of course as we sorted the stuff out, dad made some remark about all of the .223 brass there, probably from AR-15's. He said that it looked like the "Rambos" had been out there.
"Not an AR fan?" I asked. I didn't tell him that one of those evil black rifles was lurking in my truck, right next to a full-auto Uzi SMG.
"Nope. I don't think anyone needs weapons like that. Too many fools out there and that's a bad mix."

Uh, yeah...ok. Whatever.

For a while, we shot. I had my Marlin .357 Magnum lever-gun out, and he was using a Mossberg bolt-action .308, sans scope. His son had a Mossberg pump shotgun that he was using to blast away at things with slugs. But then I exhausted my supply of .357 ammo so I put the hot lever-gun up. We went down to check targets. They were shooting at paper targets they'd stapled to sticks in the ground, and I was firing at those nice orange 4" sporting clays typically used by trap and skeet shooters. I like them because they're easy to see, yet small enough to be at least a bit of a challenge at longer distances...and when you hit them, they break up nicely so you get instant feedback on your shooting. Then the moment arrived--the AR-15 with it's Aimpoint sight came out. I sat down cross-legged on the ground and began to shatter the clays. It's actually way too easy with the Aimpoint--just put the little red dot on the clay, hold the rifle still, touch the trigger, and the clay disappears.

My new shooting partner didn't appear too happy to see this evil black rifle make it's appearance, and I know that he wasn't pleased to see that I was busting the clays at a "1 shot, 1 clay" rate while he was having a hard time keeping his shots on his paper targets that were about the size of a regular sheet of paper. But I was also firing from a solid position and he was leaning half-assedly across the hood of his truck and the his rifle was neither supported nor steady.

Since he'd just done me a good turn and collected a bunch of brass for me, I went over to him during our next cease-fire and offered him a couple of pointers on his stance. He was receptive one thing led to another, and soon I was coaching him. I had him firing from a prone position in the dirt before long and he was actually scoring some pretty good hits. But then he was out of ammo, having only brought two boxes out for that rifle. Seeing a chance to win a Fudd over, I picked up my AR and asked if he'd ever shot one before. As I suspected, he hadn't. So I showed him how it worked, explaining both the rifle and the optic, and coached him through a twenty round magazine. Once he got used to it, he was hitting pretty consistently, and the smile on his face reminded me of the first time I left my nephew, The Spud, shoot a .22. I ran his son through a mag as well, and by the time he was done, it was obvious that they were both in love with that little black carbine. He thanked me for letting them shoot it and as they packed up, he was asking me what they cost and where he could check some out.

I could have been an ass and rubbed his nose in his previous remarks, but honestly, all that would likely have done was make him get all defensive and strengthen his idiotic idea about black guns and the sort of people who own them. As it is now, I think his opinion has changed a bit, and he may actually drop his negative views enough to come over to the dark side, so to speak, and become one of us black rifle owners. Personally, I'd much rather have another ally in the fight against the gun banners than get a cheap "gotcha" in on some guy that I'll probably never see again anyway. As it was, he left with something to think about, and a new-found appreciation for guns that he was willing to support banning just a couple of hours ago. And when I wouldn't let him pay me for the rounds that he and his son fired--just reloads--he handed me two boxes of .308 cases and those, to me, were worth more than 40 bullets and a bit of powder any day!

Afterwards, I got busy and did some tactical work--position-shooting using my vehicle for cover, shooting on the move, barricade work using some debris that was already out there on the range...all perishable skills that need to be practiced. Real bad guys don't just stand still like clays or aluminum cans do--you need to be able to engage them while seeking cover or from cover, and mobility is the key.

And before either you or I starts thinking that I'm all that, I will relate my bone-head move of the day. As I was practicing my shoot-and-scoot with the Uzi, I used my SUV as a barricade, taking cover behind the engine block and intending to fire a few bursts across the hood. Alas, I did not think that one through in regards to the Uzi's ejection port, and as I crouched and fired downrange from behind the front tire, I was much chagrined to see about half a mag's worth of ejected brass impact my windshield like a handful of thrown gravel. DOH! Fortunately there was no damage done, saving me from trying to explain that one to the insurance company. Moral of the story: know your weapon, including where it throws spent brass! That same course of fire with my AR is no problem because my AR throws the brass back a bit. The Uzi chucks it smartly forward, thus ensuring that if I ever have to take a shot like that in real life, I'm really going to try to do it over the hood of someone else's car.

The stars of the day's training: AR-15, Uzi, and Glock 23. (Yeah...I know. But me and this Glock go back a long time.)
Afterwards, I picked up the rest of the brass left lying around--34 lbs of it, mostly rifle brass. (Thanks, Brass Fairy!) Then I headed back to the Lair, with a stop at the prosthetist's office made necessary by all of my kneeling and prone play on the range which tore up the neoprene sleeve on my leg to the point where it needed replacing again. So since it was on the way anyway, I stopped and had a new one fitted instead of breaking into my cache of spares and messing with it myself. (Those things are a royal pain to put on.) As usual, my prosthetist just sighed and shook his head when I walked in, all sweat-soaked and covered with dirt, asking if he had a minute for an emergency repair. After four years, he's used to me routinely tearing up my legs though hard use and just plain abuse. It's kind of a game we play--he builds me better legs, and I test 'em to destruction. For all of the skill he's developing working with me, I really should be charging him instead of the other way around. But he's a good duck so I don't mind.

I finally got home, cleaned up, got a run in--a sadly pathetic run because I've been slacking, but a run nonetheless--and then it was dinner time for me and Lagniappe, followed by a nice evening cleaning the guns and with my music and a large Bushmill's. (Yeah, all the Sean Dillon stories are rubbing off on me.) Sadly, the cleaning got put off, but than anyone who knows me knows that that's not uncommon. I'll clean the Lair one of these days...honest!

Fun-filled Friday, part 2

Since I needed to work out some frustrations after dealing with that stove, and since a box had come from Surefire, Inc., containing the repair parts for my shotgun's tactical light, I decided that tonight would be a good night for a test of the shotgun, coupled with a night-firing session. Obviously with the temperature hovering around ten degrees, I could count on having the range to myself. And since both the shotgun and the AR-15 carbine needed function testing, why not make sure that they work in the cold?

I drove out to the range with the two weapons, arriving a bit after full dark.

Unfortunately, my primary tactical light was dead due to my using it to work on the stove. (DOH!) Since it's rechargeable, I couldn't just pop new batteries in it but had to leave it on the charger. I missed it immediately as I was forced to check and load the firearms by braille. But I suppose that's good practice, too. The only drawback was that I'd brought out about fifty shotgun shells of all different types, and I couldn't see them well enough to know what was what. Ah well...The cost of not bringing a back-up light was never knowing when I'd chambered a heavy slug until after I'd touched the trigger. That'll teach me.

I put up a police pistol silhouette on the 25m line and engaged it from different positions and locations on the range. I practiced speed-firing, including reloading from both the side-saddle carrier and my pocket, and feeding single rounds through the ejection port. Mr. silhouette bad guy didn't look too good when the firing stopped. In fact he seemed to be missing almost all of his center-mass five-ring. Oh well...I'll bet the next time that I tell him to show me his hands, he'll do it.

I did learn that my tactical gloves--work issue and therefore pretty damned cheap--were not a match for the shotgun, as the glove material kept getting caught up in between the shells and the magazine tube until finally I discarded them and shot with bare (and cold) hands.

Then the AR carbine came out. I put sixty rounds into the target three rounds at a time, again moving rapidly between firing points and alternating between standing, kneeling and prone. It's Pentagon light worked well, other than it's tendency to flash whenever the rifle's bolt slams home on an empty chamber. (Yo, Pentagon...you need to fix that.) I was using the rifle' back-up iron sight (BUIS)--an ARMS 40L. I have to admit, I'm still not sold on the ARMS BUIS. It has no elevation adjustment, so the rifle's front sight post is the only means of adjusting it, and the long-range peep sight has to be folded down to allow use of the larger ghost ring CQB sight and then folded up again before the sight can be folded down and locked. That's not really instinctive and it seems a bit fragile. I guess time will tell.

The shotgun and it's Surefire light performed flawlessly, and if fifty rounds of heavy stuff didn't blow the bulb out, I think that I can conclude that the last problem was in the old bulb assembly. The AR still seems to have a quirk or two to work out, but it's getting there. That's what I get for cobbling my own rifle together instead of buying one that was completely assembled and factory tested. Still, it's coming along and I'm not unhappy with it, especially knowing that it won't be too long before B. Hussein Obama and his gun-hating allies in the Dem-controlled House and Senate push through another ban on so-called "assault weapons" like my AR's. It's reassuring to know that whatever happens in DC, I've already got mine.

It's Tuesday...

A good day to get things done.

I started out on the range, where I adjusted the newly-installed sights on an AR-15 carbine. No pics of the gun at present, but if you've seen one, you've seen them all. Once the rifle was properly sighted, I took some liberties since no one else was present on this rather chilly morning and ran some training exercises. These exercises consisted of starting out at the firing line with the rifle on "safe", running down to the 50M target and back, then taking appropriate cover behind the range posts or benches, removing the safety, and putting five aimed shots onto the target. Safety on, turn and repeat.

Yeah, it sounds simple enough, and the first couple of times it is, but once you start breathing hard and perspiring, the shot groups tend to grow and sometimes even dissolve into virtual shotgun patterns. But it's a bit more realistic and practical than firing from a bench while rested and breathing normally. Reality isn't static--it involves movement, stress and adrenaline, and that's why the Biathalon is still an Olympic sport today.

I ended up fairly winded and sweaty, but it's all good; the more sweat on the training field, the less blood on the battlefield--or the street.

That wasn't the day's workout though. I got that next when I went to the gym. An hour's run on the treadmill--just over six miles--provided most of that. I then picked up a couple more sacks of deer food and headed home.

And it seems that I have a new "regular" deer coming around. He's a young six-point buck who has been coming around to dine. Like the others have been lately, he was really skittish at first, but he's getting better about me watching him. This is him.

This young fella's been coming around more and more lately. Nice to see at least one deer that isn't all schitzo like the rest of my former herd is.

I think I'll name him "Bucky".









My favorite doe came around with her two fawns at around dusk, but she wasn't having anything to do with me being visible in the house and she took them away again after they grazed a bit. I have three more does outside eating as I type this, but they're giving me the eye too. Wish I knew what--or who--got them all jacked out of shape a couple of weeks ago.

But I'll win 'em back over. I've got the corn.

There's got to be a reward for this chick

At the end of World War Two, thousands of Nazis fled from the allies and justice, hiding in every corner of the globe. Many of these people were sadistic torturers and most were never captured and held accountable for the pain that they caused.

Well I think I found one.

She's too young to have participated in WW2, but I could see her being maybe a grand-daughter of one of those soul-less monsters. She's certainly got the torture and infliction of pain down pretty good.

I am, of course talking about my new trainer at the gym. "Brutal" doesn't begin to describe this Valkyrie. She's pushing me hard. She never stops, knows no mercy, and she's totally remorseless, kind of like that chick Terminator in the last Schwarzenegger movie, only snarky.

I'm sore tonight after our most recent session. I'll hurt worse tomorrow.

But on the other hand, I've progressed more in the previous two weeks working with her than I have in the past couple of months. So it's paying off.

Still, I told her tonight that if she was a guy, I'd take her onto the boxing mat and cure that little sarcasm problem that she seems to be suffering from.

She replied that if I stick her program out and stay on track, she'll go for the best two rounds out of three.

NOW I'm motivated.

Improving your shotgun--do's and don't's.

Yesterday, on a particular forum that I participate in (usually by ridiculing the mall ninjas and Rambo wanna-be's who think that they're big and bad) a member sent me a message asking for help in customizing a Remington 870 shotgun for home defense. He was all set to put a side-folding stock and some kind of accessory rail on it and wanted my suggestions as to what he should put on. He admitted that he'd gleaned from my prior public posts that I had some experience with fighting shotguns.

Well he's right, and this is basically what I told him:

As far as an 870 goes, it's an excellent home-defense tool, but you'll come out ahead if you leave the silly stuff off of it. The next time you see a police car, if you can see it's shotgun, notice that it still has it's factory stock. 99%+ of military and law enforcement shotguns do and that's not because they're just not as hi-speed as the internet Rambos on these forums are. No serious combat shotgun has a side-folding stock or any other sort of collapsible stock and that's for several reasons. A proper stock gives you support, helps you to aim, provides balance, absorbs recoil, and is useful should you need to wrestle with or otherwise strike with the shotgun directly. By contrast, I'd be hard-pressed to think of a disadvantage to a solid wood or plastic stock.

Folding stocks, on the other hand, are awkward, unreliable, often make recoil unmanageable, and when the stress is high and you're moving fast, you aren't going to be messing with it anyway. It may look "cool" to some, but it tells the rest of us that the person holding it really doesn't know what he's doing. Posers have those on their guns. Professionals don't.

So leave that part of the gun alone and invest the money that you would have wasted on a folding stock on more ammo or other accessories like a Tac Star sidesaddle shell holder(a must, IMHO) or a good Surefire fore-end light. Again, there's no call for a rail when Surefire makes the best light on the market and it's part of the fore-end. Look up the Surefire 618 FA, or the 618 LF if you want an LED, and go with that. Yeah, it's pricey, but what's your life worth? If you want a defensive tool that will really come through when you need it, there's no substitute for this one.

Also, avoid stupid stuff that you see posers with in the magazines and on websites. This includes lasers, bayonets, heat shields, breechers on the muzzle and other crap intended to make the shotgun look "bad-ass". And leave the slings off of it, too. You're not carrying it on a 20 mile march and it'll just get caught on stuff when you're rushing.

In sum, Minimalism is the way to go, and a light and extra shells are all you really want. Keep the stock, add a Surefire front end, mount a sidesaddle extra shell carrier for $25.00 or so, and add a magazine tube extension such as made by Remington themselves or Choate Machine Tool. The extra shot or two that they give you are worth the money. If you still want four more rounds, put a speed-feed stock on it. These handy stocks look like factory stocks but have two spring-loaded shell tubes--one on each side--and each holds two more rounds. Using those on-gun holders, you can have up to sixteen rounds on the gun, giving you all that you'll need to end a fight without scrambling for extra shells in the dark.

Do these things and you'll have a fighting shotgun on par with most anything in use today by the average professional law enforcement agency that uses such tools.

And then get out and PRACTICE with it until your load, unload and malfunction drills are second-nature and you can hit your target dead center from 10 and 25 yards with shot and 25, 50 and 100 yards with 1oz slugs. (hint: reduced recoil are the way to go. You're not trying to drop a trophy buck at 150 yards...reduced recoil shells have all the power you need without the jarring recoil that slows follow-up shots and takes all the fun out of practice.)My own 870, waiting on it's Speedfeed stock to arrive.

Night shooting and reflections on preparedness

Be nice to me. I gave blood today.

Every six weeks or so, I try to donate, especially as the Red Cross is running low at present. So because I gave blood, I didn't run tonight.

Instead, I waited until full dark and got in some pistol practice.

I try to get out every couple of months for some firearm/flashlight practice (because it IS dark half the time.) and tonight just happened to be a good night.

This time out, I actually wasn't alone. For the first time since I've been doing this, there was someone else there--a husband and wife duo. Of course they didn't want to practice night shooting...they just happened to dawdle and got to the range a bit after dusk. They were just setting up when I arrived. They had a target up and he was going to hold the flashlight on the target while she stood next to him with the gun and shot at it.

So since I wanted it darker anyway, I sat down to wait on Ma and Pa Kettle, figuring I'd watch them until they finished, and then I'd shoot. If nothing else, they were starting to amuse me.

As luck would have it, her pistol had night sights. When she first asked him how she was supposed to see the target (after bitching at him for getting them there so late), he told her that he would just "charge up" her sights. He then took his flashlight and shone it on the pistol for a few seconds and said "There. They're all bright now."

Dude, they're Tritium. Say it with me. "Trit-i-um". They glow all by themselves because they're an unstable radioactive element. They don't have to be exposed to light first like those glow-in-the-dark stickers and toys that we used to get in our cereal boxes. That's -1 for insufficient understanding of your essential equipment.

Anyway, they shot for a bit, standing about ten feet away from a full-size silhouette target, and she put most of the rounds on or at least close to it. She fired about thirty rounds or so, then he shot a few while she held the light. Then she yelled "Ha! You didn't do any better than me!"

Ah, women... Gotta love that supportive nature.

So when they came back to the bench, they asked me how I planned to shoot. I told them that I was here to work on flashlight techniques, and I briefly demonstrated how I did it. I told them that if she was going to practice, she really should be holding the light along with the gun, as her husband probably wouldn't be there to hold it if she ever needed to shoot in the dark for real. She dismissed that idea, telling me that she didn't want to learn to shoot in the dark; she just had to qualify for work tomorrow and wanted a bit of practice first.

OK, now I was curious. I asked her where she worked. She told me that she was an armed security guard at a local government facility that I won't name. She said that they make her qualify once a year and she doesn't shoot otherwise.
"But you carry that gun on the job all day," I pointed out.

"Yep."

I turned to her husband and I asked him if he'd bet ten dollars on a football game where he knew that the players on one team only handled the ball once a year. He laughed, and I could tell that he got my point. I then told her that she might want to get in a bit more time practicing since she carried that gun as part of her job. She replied that she'd like to, but they won't give her any ammunition to practice with.

Sigh...

I told her that no one gives me any free ammunition to practice with either. I just like to go home at the end of the workday so I invest in a few boxes for my own practice. She just shrugged it off and said that it wasn't worth the trouble.

Man, I really hope that no one that I care about is ever inside her worksite if and when things break bad. She's not mentally prepared to do anything other then add her own name to the casualty list.

Well they stuck around to watch me shoot, and I did my best to put on a show. I also shot at head and torso targets, putting three up at once. I practiced drawing from the holster, bringing the light and the pistol up, and firing two aimed shots into the center five-ring, then re-holstering. I did this while moving between the targets, engaging each one in turn from a different distance and position (standing, crouching, kneeling) and I switched hands every once in a while. I also practiced a few failure-to-stop drills, where I hit the target twice in the chest and once in the head. I did this from 5-10 yards back, firing each group from the holster at a different target and a different range and position, always with the flashlight in one hand because it was full dark.

Out of the hundred shots I fired from the two pistols I used (H&K P7M13 and Springfield Armory 1911A1), it appeared that 87 of them went into the 5 ring or the head, twelve were just outside of the five ring but still incapacitating hits, and one shot out of the hundred was just off of the body next to the neck. (One of the head shots that I'd fired with my non-dominant hand apparently went slightly astray, blowing an otherwise pretty good session. DAMMIT!)

The Kettles were impressed. Pa told Ma: "Now that's what you need to be able to do."
But she was not convinced. "I don't think I'll ever need to shoot anyone," she replied.

Yeah, she's armed and Condition White. Just what we need protecting the public. Nice lady, but as good as dead if she ever has to use that pistol. And I'm sure that she's far from the only one like that out there carrying a gun just to take home a few extras dollars an hour more than those blue-smocked greeters at Wal-Mart.

If you carry a handgun, either for a job or just for protection, please do me, yourself, and everyone else around you a favor: At least take it seriously enough that you don't become part of the problem in a crisis. Practice, practice, and practice some more, and stay alert to the very real possibility that one day you may actually need to use that thing.

Be ready. Be able. And if you don't think that you can, Wal-Mart can always use a few more greeters.

To train, in the rain...

Well I'm finally dry. Again.
It's been one of those days.

The plan called for a bit of running and some shooting, but the weather decided not to cooperate. When I got to Shepherdstown, where I'd decided to run on the C&O Canal towpath, a light rain had just begun.

OK, fine. Be that way. I came out to run, so I'm going to run. Besides, how wet could I get in an hour?

Answer: Pretty damned wet. I stretched the run and went five miles, just because when I got to four where I'd planned to quit, I still had some left. So I turned around and ran back out another half-mile then came back again for a total of five miles. Meanwhile, the rain had increased while I was running, but I didn't care, because I was feeling good. End result: I was totally soaked.

Fortunately I had dry clothes in my vehicle, so I changed and went into town for a well-earned pizza lunch.

Hey, where I come from, if you run five miles, you can have a pizza.

So once dry and fed, I headed back towards home. But as I was passing the range, I noticed that the rain had slowed to a light drizzle once again. So since I needed to test some new 5.56mm loads, I turned in and set up. And the rain increased once again.

But as I've said before, bad things happen in the rain too. So I'll train in the rain if it happens to be raining on my range days. And I did. I shot my AR-15, then transitioned to my Glock, which I'd brought out just because I haven't shot a Glock in a while and I want to keep my proficiency up.

And of course by the time I was finished firing, I was once again soaked to the skin.

Of course since I was already wet, I spent another ten minutes policing the rifle and pistol ranges for brass. Frankly I never thought I'd see the day when I'd scrounge for spent .223 and 9mm brass, but that day's here now. (And if the Democrats get their way, it's only going to get worse.) On the upside, I just finished a reloading run of about 2,000 rounds of 5.56mm cartridges and it was ALL range pick-up brass that I'd acquired over past years from other people who shot and left it. With the price of ammunition skyrocketing, I'm now grateful to the people who don't police up their brass. Keep it coming, folks. The less that I have to spend on ammunition, the more pig's ears and tennis balls I can buy for Lagniappe.

But now I'm home and dry. The weapons are dry, and...oh damn. I just remembered that I put Lagniappe outside about 45 minutes ago and forgot about him. Guess I'm not the only one getting soaked today.

The bane of my shooting existence

I swear, half the reason that I keep this gun around is because it keeps me humble.



See those little rachety teeth about half an inch above the circular barrel opening? Well those are notches on the .30 barrel of the Browning Model 1919A4 machine gun that is driving me slowing but inexorably insane. And to get down to it, those notches are a major part of the pending insanity.

You see, in order for this wonderfully simple yet incredibly complex gun to fire, the barrel has to be just the right distance away from the bolt face, that distance being set by the operator, who turns that barrel one notch at a time until the setting is juuust right. Get it just a little bit wrong, and the gun goes "click" instead of "Rat-tat-tat..". Get it wrong enough and the gun goes "KA-BOOM!" and pieces-parts go flying every which way as the top cover blows open or even clean off the gun.
If you'll notice, there are no tick-marks or other labels to indicate when the barrel is lined up right. No, that would be too easy and no doubt deprive the ghost of John Moses Browning of more than a few chuckles as frustrated gunners have cursed and fiddled with that setting ever since the first World War. Instead, the setting is determined by pulling the bolt back about 3/4 of an inch, turning the barrel until you reach a setting where it will not completely close under spring pressure when the bolt is released, then going back one notch to the point where it just closes. Then you back it off two more notches for a .30 setting, or 4-5 notches for a .308 setting, and hopefully you're in business. Done right, you get a satisfying roar as the gun fires at a rate of 550 rounds per minute, give or take. Done wrong, and you look like a horses' ass as the gun does...well, nothing. (Or it goes "BLAMMO!" You'd rather it do nothing...trust me there.)

I've just spent the last half and hour re-setting the headspace on this one.Why half an hour? Because despite the fairly thorough cleaning that I gave it at Aaron's place last week, when I slid the barrel and other internals out of the gun, (and to get the barrel out, everything else has to come out, too) I kept finding more bits and pieces that weren't quite clean/lubricated enough, so I had to keep side-tracking to tend to that stuff before sliding the whole mess back together again. I guess this is what happens when you try to clean a gun, drink beer, and watch Burn Notice, all without getting any dirt or cleaning solution at all on Aaron's wife's basement carpeting.

Anyway, the reason for my annoyance with this setting is that, while out with the gun and Aaron last week, a bullet lodged in the barrel forced me to strip this gun down in the field, and while reassembling the smoking-hot components, I screwed up the headspace and could not get the gun to fire again no matter what I did. Granted the parts were all very hot and difficult to work on, and Aaron's constant yelling about how the Germans were coming while he videotaped my cursing and fumbling certainly didn't help, but it still shouldn't have happened. While I was fairly comfortable working on this gun on my gun room workbench, I failed miserably at trying to repair it under field conditions...on the ground, in the sand, with the parts all hot enough to fry eggs on and covered with hot oil.

So there was a lesson learned here, and it's one that all shooters should take something from no matter how complex or simple your gun is: Know your equipment, and know it intimately enough that you can fix it when it goes down, not on a toolbench or kitchen table later, but right then and there under operating conditions. The same holds true whether you're trying to lay down suppressing fire with a GPMG, shooting an M-1/M14 in a rifle match, or firing a CAR-15, a shotgun or your favorite pistol in a true self-defense situation. Hopefully it'll never quit on you, and if it does, with any luck it'll only be during a practice session, but Murphy's a bastard and you should be able to diagnose and fix simple problems when and where they happen, because if you really need that gun, the need doesn't go away just because the gun stops working. Can you clear a jam in your carry gun instantly and by feel if need be? if it's more serious than a stove-pipe or double-feed, can you withdraw and quickly tear it down to remove a broken case or replace a broken firing pin right where you are? Do you know what tools you need, and which substitutes will work in a pinch? And do you carry or at least keep handy the small spare parts that you're most likely to need?

If the answer to any of these questions is "no" or "I'm not sure..." then you might want to buy a manual and the requisite parts and tools and make such drills part of your practice sessions. Your life, or that of someone else, may depend on it someday.

In real life, it probably will never come to such a scenario, but is that a gamble that you're willing to take? A shot missed due to a malfunction or a breakage is just as bad as one missed due to poor marksmanship. We all practice marksmanship. But when's the last time that you've practiced realistic stoppage and repair drills?

Another fun range day

Well I'm just back from the range after an exhausting, painful afternoon teaching myself new techniques for shooting with only one foot. I also had to reacquaint myself with my old friend, the Glock 23, which I've largely not shot since being issued my duty pistol several years ago.

The Glock 23 is Glock's compact .40 caliber pistol. It holds 14 rounds and weighs less than 2lbs loaded. I bought mine as a law school graduation present to myself back when I lived in New Orleans. It was a factory-refurbished police trade-in formerly carried by an officer in Walden, New York according to Glock. I've owned it for several years but since my department refused to allow us officers to carry anything off-duty except for our issue pistol. I haven't done much with the Glock. Of course when I got hurt on the job, they took my duty pistol away and they're holding it until I'm deemed fit to return again. Thanks alot for that, white shirts!

So now I'm carrying the Glock again. It's a nifty little gun that may lack in the asthetics department (that means that it's not pretty for any Democrats that might be reading this) but it always goes "Bang!" when I depress the trigger and it puts the bullets where I want them if I do my part.

So what's so hard about shooting with one foot you ask? If you have to ask, you obviously haven't tried to draw and steady a pistol while standing on one leg. Give it a try and you'll find out as I did that it's just not easy to do or practical to even attempt. So what to do?

Well I was on crutches today so first I tried to use one crutch as a monopod by putting it out in front of me and bracing my wrists with it as I shot two-handed. It seemed like a good idea, but it didn't work much better than just trying to balance on one foot.

So since I needed to be steady, I defaulted back to Rifle 101 and tried the kneeling position. I placed my left knee on the ground (It's my left foot that's missing) and kept my right foot flat. That worked well as I was stable so I extended my arms into the basic Chapman hold and shot. Perfect. Three rounds smack into the center of a six-inch circle at 15 meters. Next I set out to develop a tactical method for getting into this position quickly.

Starting out standing and supported by both crutches with my pistol holstered beneath a long untucked shirt with I wore as cover garment, I faced the target. Using my dominant hand, I reached back behind the crutch on that side and swept it away. That hand then reversed direction and knifed inside the cover garment to grasp the pistol. As I drew the pistol from the holster, I thrust the other crutch away and dropped to my left knee as I brought the pistol out into firing position. Lining up the sights, I tapped three shots onto the target as quickly as possible.

This technique showed a lot of promise so I practiced it over and over again. I went through a hundred rounds, three shots at a time, and put almost every one of them inside the six-inch circle. Of course this meant slamming my knee onto the concrete or into the gravel over thirty times and then picking up my crutches and using them to pull myself back to the upright position each time as well. It may not sound like much but by the time the ammo was gone, I'd worked up a nice sweat, my knee was bruised and cut up, and I was starting to feel it in my arm muscles. I also ran these drills with my magazines loaded to different degrees, drilling myself on the tactical reload every time the pistol went dry during one of the three-round sets. Not only did I regain much of my ability to load the Glock by feel, but I found out that one of my older magazines no longer locks the slide back when it goes empty. So now that one's relegated to training status. I only went through a hundred rounds and need more practice before I've really got this down cold, but at least I've got a technique and a plan and I'm confident that if faced with a threat, I can address it in a practiced, tactical manner. And even though it's a bit slower than a two-foot standing technique, it has the added advantage of making ME a smaller target and putting me below the eye level and instinctive line of fire of an aggressor.

Yay Glock, and yay me. Better, stronger and faster.




And speaking of new guns...

Aaron over at The Shekel got himself one of those newfangled little Kahr Arms PM9 pistols. He's in love with it and both he and all of the gun reviews out there on the internet make a good case for buying one. Small is good and a small, controllable 9mm is great. My only concern is the magazine capacity because when I was involved in an actual shooting a couple years back, I was suprised to find out how many rounds I'd put off under the stress of the moment. As such, I'm leaning towards the almost-as-small Glock 26. It's just a little bigger but holds 12 rounds in the magazine + 1 in the chamber as opposed to the Kahr's 6+1. And I can get a Glock 27 in .40 which is the same size as the 26 but built for the .40 round. It holds one round less: 11+1. Still, I'm not convinced. Decisions, decisions. I'll just have to see Aaron's new toy and try it out before I decide. He sure likes his and that's a pretty good reference. (Hell, I'll probably wind up with one of each before it's over. You can never have too many guns.)

But check out Aaron's review of the Kahr: here